TEE PROBLEM OF A SCIENCE OF ETHICS IN TEE PHILOSOPHIES

OF JOHN DEvŒÏ AND

Dissertation Presented in Partial Fulfillment of tlie Requirements for tire Degree Doctor of PtLilosophy in tlie Graduate Sclaool of Tiie Ohio State University

By

John L* McKenney, B.A.,

The Ohio State University

1952

Approved by:

Adviser Th.e beginning of ptillosophy is this : tbe being sensible of the disagreement of men witb each other; an enquiry into the cause of their disagreement; and a disapprobation and distrust of what merely seems; a careful examination into what merely seems, whether it seems rightly; and the discovery of some rule which shall serve like a balance, for the determination of weights; like a square for distinguishing straight and crooked. Epictetus, Discourses 11:11

SS0SS6 Preface

To Professor Albert E. Avey % owe a great debt of gratitude for bis patient, critical, and scholarly guid­ ance not only during the writing of this present work, but throughout the past four years of graduate study. During those years I never once failed to receive from him a sympathetic hearing for my views or problems, ac- *Companied by guidance and clarification wherever such was possible. By holding up an of scholarship guided by the true philosophic spirit. Dr. Avey is responsible for v/hatever merit this present study may possess.

I also wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to all the other members of the Department of Philosophy and particularly to those who have served on my graduate com­ mittee, Professors D. Luther Evans, Albert R. Chandler, William H. Reither, and Virgil G. Hinshaw, Jr. It was in seminars conducted by Professor H. G. Hullfish that my understanding of ’s philosophy developed, and I am grateful to Dr. Hullfish for this fact. Profes­ sor Hinshaw’8 interest in encour­ aged me in my study of Bertrand Russell. Whatever faults there may be in extending the methods of analysis to ethics, however, cannot be attributed to him. ^t was

Professor Robert S, Hartman’s work in axiology that served as an example for me of the fruitful results to be obtained ii by analytic metbocL in ethics. My wife aided me greatly in the compilation of the bibliography and in the countless editorial details

that were involved in the preparation of the final draft of this study. If it had not been for T^niversity Scholarships granted to me by the Graduate School during 1948-1951, I would not be completing my graduate work: at this time. My three years as a University Scholar provided the opportunity for full time, uninteiypted study which was * ^ so necessary a part of my graduate program. I am truly grateful to Dean N. Paul Hudson and the Graduate School

for this assistance.

August 15, 1952 John L. McKenney

ill Table of Contents

Page

Preface1 ...... 11

Key to Abbreviations in Footnotes...... vi

Part I - Tbe Setting of tiie Problem ...... 1

Chapter 1 - Introduction: the Nature of the Problem ..... 1 Chapter 2 - Dewey’s Position Regarding a Science of Ethics...... 9

Chapter 3 - Russell’s Position Regarding a Science of Ethics...... 54 Part II - The Disagreement between Dewey and Russell over the Possibility of a Science of Ethics...... 75 Chapter 4 - The Problem Viewed in the L l ^ t of the Wide Areas of Agreement between Dewey and Russell ...... 75 Chapter 5 - Russell’s Criticism of Dewey’s as the Source of Their Disagreement concerning a Science of Ethics...... 107

Part III - The Possibilities of Reconciling Their Disagreement...... 146

Chapter 6 - The Irreconcilable Nature of Their Eplstemological Differences..... 146

Chapter 7 - The "Dnacceptabllity of Russell’s Ethical Position to Dewey...... 166 Chapter 8 - An Attempt to Find within Russell’s Position a Basis for an Enç)lrlcal Science of Ethics...... 174

iv Table of Contents (Continued)

Page

Part IT - Conclusions*• 236

Cliapter 9 - A Review of the Prohlem and Con­ clusions of This Study*••««••«••«••••••••« 236

Bibliography* ..... 258

Autohiography...... 265 Sey to Abbreviations in Footnotes

A&I...... Auth.orlt7 and the Indlvidnal (Russell)

EScN Rxpegjence and ^ature (Dewey)

G&B* .... "Good and Bad" (Russell) HWP...... -^13tory of Western Piiilosopliy (Russell)

HS...... Human Knov/ledge (Russell) IMP...... «Introduction to Mathematical Plallosophy (Russell)

IMT. « Inquiry into Meaning and . (Russell) IMff ..... Intelligence In the Modern World (Dewey) E&K...... Zhowlng and the Known (Dewey and Bentley)

M&L»...... ««Mysticism and Logic (Russell) OEZEW« « « « .Our of the External World (Rus— sell)

PBR« «««««««««PMllosophy of Bertrand Russell PJD*...... Philosophy of John Dewey

PofM« ..«.«.««««Problems of ^ n (Dewey) R&S...... Religion and Science (Russell)

"Reply," PER.« «"Reply to Criticisms," In PBR (Russell)

"Reply," PJB«««"Experience, Knowledge and Value: A Rejolndei', " In PJD (Dewey)

Vi Key to Abbreviations In Footnotes (C ont.)

RIP...... Reconstruction in Hiilosopliy (Dewey) SO ...... Scientific Outlook (Russell) TofV...... Theory of Valuation (Dewey)

Kote; Citations to Dewey’s and Russell’s work, both, those using complete titles and those using this key, are given simply by title or abbreviation. The context identifies the author, if a lesser known work by Dewey or Russell is cited. References to other authors are given by surname and title. All sources are identified in full in the Bibliography when a complete reference is not given in the text.

vii 1 THE PROBLEM OP A SCIENCE OF ETHICS IN THE PHILOSOPHIES

OF JOHN DEVŒI AND BERTRAND RUSSELL

Part I

Ttie Setting of the Problem

Chapter 1. Introduction: The Nature of the Problem

If one were asked to name two philosophers who most nearly embodied the spirit and temper of our contemporary scientific age, John Dewey and Bertrand Russell would come readily to mind* There have been and are other men who in different ways have caught the spirit of the times, hut few have had such a wide audience of interested fol­ lowers as these two men. In part this wide hearing given to Dewey’s and Russell’s views is the simple result of the great number of years they had to devote to philos­ ophic pursuits. But the more important reason for the wide popularity of their writings has heen that their interests in science, democracy, education, and social reform have coincided with the developments of these fields in the 20th century. Whether this has been true because Dewey and Russell helped direct these tendencies, or whether they merely followed an already developing trend is not the issue at present.

The problem to be discussed, however, takes its point of departure from the role Dewey and Russell have 2 played, in th.e fields mentioned. If John Dewey and

Bertrand Russell are models of the contec^orary scientif­ ic philosopher, why do they disagree so radically over the possibility of a science of ethics? Dewey's position not only allows, but actually requires the methods of science to be extended to the sphere of values. Russell's stand to the contrary seems to prohibit science from treating the problems of ethics. To say that the two philosophers have different con­ ceptions of the nature of ethics does not answer the question asked, but rather restates the problem. From the standpoint of their general philosophical orientation, one would think they would agree on the relation of science to values. As a matter of fact they do not agree, and their views actually oppose one another. We are in­ terested here in discovering specifically and in terms of each man's philosophical orientation the cause of their disagreement over the possibility of a science of ethics, as well as examining the chances of resolving this disagreement.

Other people have written separately on each man's ethical and scientific philosophy. It is a matter of common knowledge that their views are at variance on the issue of a science of ethics. However, no one seems to have asked exactly why do they disagree and whether their positions on the question at issue might be reconciled. 5 In answering th.e q-aestion of wh.y tliey disagree,

each man*3 stand on the science of ethics will have to he investigated in terms of his own philosophical com­ mitments. Russell*s rejection of a science of valuation

is particularly puzzling in view of the fact that he does not locate values outside the spatio-temporal world

in some ontically objective realm. Dewey says that for the recognition of a science of valuation, "All that is needed is acceptance of the view that moral subject matter is also spatially and temporally qualified. Considering the controverted present state of morals and its loss of popular esteem, the sacrifice demanded should not seem threatening to those who are not moved by vested institu­ tional interest. Now either Dewey is wrong about the necessary and sufficient conditions for admitting a science of ethics, or Russell*s position should acknowledge the viewpoint which renders "the methods and conclusions of natural science serviceable for moral theory and practice.

Certainly Russell does hold values to be spatially and temporally qualified. And he is just as definitely not "moved by vested institutional interest." Yet he does not accept Dewey's view on the possibility of making the methods and conclusions of natural science serviceable for moral theory and practice. Whatever reason he does have

p. IS. % b l d . 4 for rejecting that possibility mast be located within his philosophy. Once the reason that Russell rejects a science of ethics has been examined in connection with Dewey' s reasons for the possibility of such a science, we will be in a position to see if there is any common point of reference for their respective stands. If there is some such frame of reference, it might serve as an avenue to reconciling their views. If there is not any such common ground or even if there is and it proves inadequate to the task of reconciliation, we will have to examine the possibility that either one position or the other might allow a different conclusion from that actually drawn by Dewey or Russell.

This study fills a need in the problem area of the science of ethics in two ways. In the first place,when two such leading scientific philosophers are so widely at odds with each other * s respective views on the possibility of a science of ethics, one can not demand a hearing on the issue by philosophers outside the scientific tradi­ tion of empirical naturalism. To the charge that scientif­ ic naturalism has not been given a chance to prove its case about the relation of science to ethics, the opposing philosophical positions would reply that even within the scientific philosophers ^ ranks there is wide disagreement and dissension on the issue. It is not reasonable to 5

expect philosophers of opposing schools to accept con­ clusions from another position which are not even agreed

upon within its own ranks* Thus the nature of Dewey *s and Russell*s disagreement is of importance in the whole field of controversy over the nature of ethics* Agree­ ment between them might not carry much weight in the effort to gain a wider philosophic hearing for a science of ethics* However, disagreement between them provides grounds for serious objections from those who oppose a science of ethics. And even if their disagreement may not be resolved, an investigation of its nature may reveal

that it is not as damning to the possibility of a science of ethics as appears at first sight* The second way in which this study fulfills a need

within the field of the philosophical treatment of the science of ethics is in the general suggestions for axiological analysis which can be drawn from it* These suggestions will have to be left implicit and cannot be argued within the scope of this essay* However, if the to application of philosophical analysis^the present pro­ blem is judged to have been fruitful, the extension of this type of analysis in axiology may seem more promising* It is not claimed that philosophical analysis can yield

definite answers to all the problems of axiology* Yet

the clarifies tory usefulness of the method within this present work suggests the need for wider extension of this philosophical tool* 6 Alain Locke has called value theory the twentieth century substitute for .^ And just as meta­ physics has been plagued with the weaknesses Bacon char­ acterized in his "idols,” so value theory has been ty­

rannized by the idols of the cave, theater, market place, and tribe. Personal idiosyncrasies lead us astray in

our value theorizing. Undue respect for the great names in ethics is a common cause of faulty axiological anal­ ysis. The ever present tyrgnny of words has taken its toll in value theory with the result of much confusion. And of course the common weaknesses of human nature,

particularly our demand for more order and harmony than is usually present in the world, have been a block to "twentieth century metaphysics," or value theory. However, logical or philosophical analysis offers a means of avoiding these common difficulties of value theory. Logical :;analysis as a tool of axiology does not depend on natural language, nor is it subject to the personal differences of the investigator. The idols of theater and tribe also do not affect its results.

Logical analysis deals with the form of our assertions, and from such analysis much light can be gained about traditional philosophical problems. So if analysis shows itself useful in dealing with the problem of this

^ Ala in L. Locke, in a book note. The Kev Reporter. Spring 1950, p. 5. ^- 7 present study, the likelihood of its use hecoming more widespread in value theory will he increased. C . a. Ayres has said, "Nothing is dearer to the twentieth century mind than the insolubility of the value problem. It does seem at times that contemporary philosophy actually thrives upon "the insolubility of the value problem. " Yet when the seriousness of the separation of the so-called normative and descriptive disciplines is fully present in one’s consciousness, it is hard to find much if any satisfaction in "the insolubil­ ity of the value problemi* Since no modern philosopher of any standing advocates the subordination of science to moral and religious institutions, the treatment of ethical and scientific problems within the same frame of reference seems to be of pressing urgency. In so far as this study fulfills the two needs previously discussed, it will, it is hoped, contribute to the solution of the normative-descriptive dualism which is causing so much difficulty in the modem world. If the disagreement between Dewey and Russell is not removed to the satisfaction of all readers, at least the attempt should be an interesting excursion in the exposition and examination of their views. The failure to find agreement would not, of course, detract from the value of the methodological procedure of analysis if such

^Ayres, "Instrumental Economics,” p. 18. 8 analysis accrirately revealed what the relationship of their views was*

Nor is it claimed, if this endeavor to reconcile Dewey and Russell on the possibility of a science of ethics is successful, that all problems concerning a science of ethics will be solved* It is hoped and ex­ pected, however, that this study will contribute to the solution of larger problems* Except as an interesting philosophical task in the analysis of Dewey * s and

Russell’s positions, this inquiry can only claim the reader’s attention upon the that in the context of the field of ethics, this study advances the problem of a science of ethics one step nearer to resolution* Chapter 2.

Dewey*3 Position Regarding A Science of Ethics

In considering John Dewey' s position on the possibility of a science of ethics it is well first to have in mind his view of the nature of science in general. The word ’science* in our day has become a slogan or catchword of contending factions, rather than a term descriptive of one particular aspect of man’s life. One is either for the extension of the methods and attitude of science into all aspects of personal and societal living, or one is a defender of human values against the

encroachment of science into areas in which it has no business. Besides the difficulties in discussion of the nature and role of science arising from this partisan spirit, there is the added factor of the usage of ’science* in its narrow, more etymologically proper, sense as meaning ’knowledge,’ or any body of systematic knowledge. Thus recently an expert testifying in a gambling case

said poker was not gambling, but that it was a scientific game. The history of philosophical ethics contains many instances of men who thought they had developed the principles of a science of morality,^ when what they actually did was to build up on orderly deductive system of from certain basic premises derived from

^Cf.l . Spinoza and Locke. 10 the cTirrent religion or social morality. The phrase *a

science of ethics,* then, is by no means self-explanatory. The axis aroiind which centers consideration of the possibility of a science of ethics is the nature of science in general. As John Dewey has said about nature,^ so he would also be likely to say about science. No one has a monopoly upon the word * science, * and the type of scientific philosophy one has and especially the view one has on a science of ethics depends upon the meaning attached to science. Thus for an adequate understanding and analysis of the question of this essay, Dewey * s con­ ception of the nature of science comes up for consideration. The type of scientific thought that prevails in a particular period is by and large determined by the pre­ vailing cultural pattern which forms the matrix for in­ quiry. Man, by his very nature as an organism within an environment, is continually interacting with his sur­ roundings. These surroundings fix for him the range of his actions, and man*s life is a continual process of interaction with his environment. This interaction is one of the fundamental characteristics of life. An in­ animate thing may lie passively in the midst of a system of energy. It is subject to shifts and changes in its

^”No one philosophic theory has a monopoly on the meaning to be given Nature, and it is the meaning given Nature that is decisive as to the kind of Naturalism that is put forward." "Reply," PJD. p. 580. 11 suiTOundlngs and. takes on Its character from the natnrs of these changes. However, inanimate things do not react to their environment, except in a figurative manner when they cooperate, so to speak, with certain physical laws which are operative. An example of this would be when a stone, put into motion by some external force, "lends” its weight to the situation and combines with the principle of inertia and gravity to moye in a given direc­ tion until stopped by a greater force, Man, unlike a stone, is not merely a pawn of forces, but is an originator of motion. Thus any account of man’s activity must include the human factor of reaction.

In consideraing scientific inquiry as a distinctively human activity, the necessary starting point must be a recognition of this. It is not the case that all human reactions to environment are of the nature of scientific inquiry, Man may react aesthetically to his environment.

Or he nmy seek adjustment to the changing situation through the patterns of religious experience. However, in earlier times the approach to adjustment nearest that of science was through philosophy. Until comparatively recent times the philosopher’s world view did double duty as metaphysics and physics. Natural philosophy was another way of speaking of what would now be called natural science, Newton wrote on Philosophiab Nautralia Principia Mathematica, Even now it is not always easy 1 2

to tell at tlie beginning of an inquiry wh.etb.er it is philosophic or scientific in nature* Dewey says that a given investigation is ”*scientific’ if and when its field of application is so specific, so limited, that passage into it is comparatively direct.It is designa­ ted as ‘philosophic* when its area is so broad and in­ clusive that direct formulation of the form and content of specific problems is not possible. Here the emphasis is upon scientific inquiry as an instrument in resolving specific concrete problems. Thus science is a way of providing a channel through which man can react appropriately to those aspects of his environ­ ment which force themselves into his stream of experience and cause him to adjust to them. Science is then a thoroughly human concern, an affair which is intimately connected with the patterns of daily life as an inter­ action with the various aspects of human environment.

Science is not to be considered an ideal system of know­ ledge having some sort of subsistence above and beyond the human plane which is in fact sullied by contact with daily life.^

Yet science is to be distinguished from the manner of dealing with problems. The question is one of the "kind of concern or care that maiîfcs off

p. 15. Ch. 10. 13 scientific activity from those forms of human behavior

that fall within the scope of common sense* First it

is to be noted that science is a work carried on by a

special group of people who have made it their vocation. They have prepared themselves for this vocation by specialized training which fits them for the tasks they confront. "Moreover, the work is done in a special kind of workshop, specifically known as laboratories and ob­

servatories, fitted out with a particular kind of apparatus O for the carrying on of a special kind of occupation. "

This conception of science helps to clear away the mistaken notion that science is something done by the mind, rather than a mode of activity involving the action of the whole person. As a matter of fact, Dewey feels,

"science as practiced today began only when the work done (i.e. life activities) by sense and movement was refined and extended by adoption of material devices and s technological operations." This enç>hasises the aspect of control as crucial to scientific inquiry. Dewey' s view has been caricatured as holding science to be practicalistic meddling or at best a gadget belabored type of cook-book chemistry. This extreme characteri­ zation was inspired by the emphasis Dewey put upon the

279; see also. Logic, pp. 66& 71. g£bld. — Èi— > ^ 3%bid.. p. 280. 14 instnamentalities of inqtiiry. Tills was a needed emphasis at a time when men were too prone to think of science as entirely a thing of the mind, of concepts, principles, laws, etc. which were more appropriately thou^t than ezp)erlenced.

Actually Dewey does not subordinate scientific knowing to acting or doing. He sees the two as forming a necessary and essential partnership within scientific Inquiry. To recur once more to the contrast of the common sense and scientific ways of knowledge. It Is to be noted that both doing and knowing have Important parts to play In each. It would not be correct to attempt to character­ ise either as having an exclusive Interest In doings or In knowings. Rather, as Dewey says, "In the concerns of common sense knowing Is as necessary^ as Important, as In those of science." However, In the former case knowing "is for the sake of agenda, the what and the how of which have to be studied and to be learned^ - In short, known

In order that the necessary affairs of everyday life be carried on. In science the situation Is the reverse one In which doings and makings are carried on for the sake of advancing knowing. In both cases the active and the cognitive elements are the same In kind, but the alms of these elements are different, thus rnaVirig the differ-

^K&K, p. 281. 15

ence between common sense and science. "Tbe fact ^Ts_ÿ^

that what science is of is about what common sense

subjectmatter is of. Of course all scientific inquiry has its practical aspect, that is an aspect which is a mode of practice or action. This means that "the working scientist is a practitioner above all else, and is constantly engaged in making practial judgments : decisions as to what to do and what means to employ in doing it. However, Dewey* s

science is not all activity. The process of inquiry is very dependent upon the formation of .judgments adequate to the problems at hand. Yet scientific judgments are practical and are just as much an indispensable instru­ mentality of scientific inquiry as are those physical tools associated with the laboratory- This is expressed by Dewey in the following manner: **Scientific treatment of any subject means command of an apparatus which may be used to control the formation of judgments in all matters appertaining to that subject."® Unless in a given situ­ ation the adjustment sought by man is mediated by the process of judgment foimation, the activity can scarcely;" be distinguished from the mere practical meddling of

^KSeK. p. 281 gliogic « p. 161. Spofk. p. 229. , 16 connnon sense. A scientific inquiry attempts to resolve not only the one specific problem, but also to lay a foundation for the resolution of any future problems of similar type. As Dewey characterizes scientific pro­ cedure: The determination of validity by reference to the possibility of making other judgments upon which the one in question depends, and the determination of meaning by reference to the necessity of making other statements to which the one in question entitles us are the two marks of scientific procedure.1

Thus the goal of scientific judgments is the resolu­ tion of Immediate problematic situations and the direction of future action. As Dewey put it, "all scientific judgments, physical as well as ethical, are ultimately concerned with getting experience stated in objective (that is, general) terms for the sake of direction of future experience. In this manner the old dichotomy between practical and theorectical knowledge is broken down. True, common sense knowing is better character­ ized as "practical," and scientific knowing as "theoreti­ cal. " But the former does not carry a limited utilitarian connotation, and the latter "is far away from the theorla of pure contemplation of the Aristotelian tradition, and from any sense of the word that excludes elaborate and extensive doings and makings."® Dewey says that scient&^c

^PofM. p. 212. ^Ibid.. p. 244. ®g&K. p. 282. 17 knowing is a practical form of hnman activity concerned with, advancing knowledge "apart from concern with other practical affairs." As was pointed out earlier, it is clear that scientif­ ic problems do not come ready made, nor do they spring from a vacuum. The path of scientific inquiry is de­ termined by hxunan reactions of interest and concern which vitally affect the selection of scientific problems. It is an over-simplification to assume that the only concern which men have in regard to their environment is one of conquering or mastering it. "The position...that science is a matter of concern for the conduct of inquiry as inquiry sharply counters such statements as that * science is the means of obtaining practical mastery over nature 1 through understanding it,*" especially when this is put in direct contrast to the view that science * s concern is merely to know.

This conception of the practical nature of science does not exclude the element of aesthetic and moral appreciation from the scope of the scientist and his work.

The traditional trinity of the Good, the True and the Beautiful has its place in Dewey * s conception of the nature of science. They have their exclusive meaning in their function as indicating "that certain subject-

^g&K. pp. 283-4. 18

matters are outstanding consummatory completions of cer­ tain types of previously indeterminate situations by means of tbe execution of appropriate operations*”^ While science has usually been thought to be concerned with the True exclusively, "science has its phases of appreciation as truly as have the fine arts* They arise whenever inquiry has reached a close that fulfils the activities and conditions which led up to it. Without these phases, sometimes intense, no inquirer would ha^e the experiential sign that his inquiry has reached its close. This refusal of Dewey's to isolate the role of science from the arts and morals indicates his disposi­ tion to believe in the possibility of a science of ethics and to see no a priori barrier to the realization of such. In fact he is convinced that science is basically depen­ dent from its very Inception upon a moral interest, "the sincere aim to judge truly. Remove such an interest, " he says, "and the scientific system becomes a purely aesthetic object, which may awaken emotional response..., but which has no logical import.

Further, reason that it is scarcely possible to isolate science from moral concerns is the great impact

^Logic. p. 177. fibid. . p. 176. ^PofM. p. 227. 19 that science has made upon every aspect of human life and culture. "To relate in detail the ways in which science has affected the area of common sense in respect to the relationships of person to person, group to group, people to people, v/ould be to relate the story of social change in the last few centuries,Dewey says. Great as has been the impact of science upon man * a physical environment, the influence of science in the social- economic sphere has been equally great. Science has in an exceptional degree "modified the conditions under which human beings live and act in connection with one another,whether in peaceful, harmonious relationships, or in conflict and struggle.

While it is generally admitted that science has had this great impact upon man's life, it is more often held that in all this science is indifferent to the ends or values involved in the process. Dewey, on the other hand, views science as having vastly extended the possible range of ends and as having so increased the means available for attaining ends as to deny this supposed isolation of science from values. "Instead of science eliminating ends and inquiries controlled by teleological considerations, it has, on the contrary, enormously fredd and expanded 2 activity and thought in telic matters."

^Logic« p. 75. ^Ibid.. p. 76. p. 78. 20

The problem now is to direct the path of development of science back toward the common concerns of daily life

and to exhibit the efficacy of science in dealing with moral matters. Dewey says that science takes its point of departure from common sense affairs, but the difficult return trip to the realm of common sense is blocked by sundry antagonistic social conditions»^ Yet there is ample that the return is and has been in process for better or for worse. "The problem» then, concerns

the possibility of giving direction to this return-wave so as to minimize evil consequences and to intensify and extend good consequences, and, if it is possible, to find

out how such return is to be accomplished. The pursuit of this possibility has determined the

direction of the greatest part of Dewey’s philosophical writings. He says of his own life’s work that the setting of his chief problems has been to investigate "the extent to which vital cultural problems.. .now centre about the reworking of traditions (institutions, customs, beliefs of all sorts), to bring them into harmony with the po- tentialities of present science and technology."

The key concept in this work has been right along

"the supremacy of method," i.e. scientific method or the

^Loglc. p. 77. eK8cK. p. 285. ^■’’RSply," PJD. p. 523. 21

inetîiod of inquiry. Yiliile tlie concepts 'fact’ and ’know­ ledge’ loom large in Bertrand Russell’s view of the nature of science, ’method of inquiry’ and ’warranted

assertihility’ are key concepts in understanding Dewey’s view. As far back as 1903 he took his stand for the supremacy of method. At that time he said, "We need to throw the emphasis in using the term ’scientific’ first upon methods, and then upon results through reference to methods. For so long science worked from the stand­ point of concentrating upon subject-matter and upon the results obtained from such. Thus, to take the most ex­ treme illustration, alchemists concentrated upon a pro­ blem like turning base metals into gold. They focused their attention upon the particular material they worked with and only glanced away long enough to look into the future when they would have their coveted result- gold. Admitting that this is a hand-picked case, it serves to illustrate the point that as long as science did not con­

centrate its energies around the core of some common method, its energies were dissipated in uncoordinated inouiries. A generally accepted notion of scientific method gives separate disciplines an axis around which to organize their particular investigations.

Dewey’s conception of the general scientific method

^"Logical Conditions of a Scientific Treatment of Morality,” reprinted from the 1903 Decennial Publica­ tions of the University of Chicago, in PofM, p. 211. 22 does not differ so radically from Russell*s, as we shall

see. Scientific method consists of roughly four stages of inquiry. First the observation of the facts of the case in order to determine the nature of the problem. Then the formation of an hypothesis to account for all the facts of the case, to indicate a path which offers solution to the problem, and to aid in selecting new data bearing on the problem. Third, the data are or­ ganized by deductive reasoning and are brought to focus on the problem so that fourth and lastly, an integrated

situation can be instituted in place of the problematic one*^

Inquiry in general is defined in terms of "the con­

trolled or directed transformation of an indeterminate situation into one that is so determinate in its con­

stituent distinctions and relations as to convert the original situation into a unified whole. A "situation"

for Dewey does not indicate an isolated single object

or event. Rather it means the state of objects and events 3 when they form a contextual whole. A whole is realized by the "immediately pervasive quality" of events-at- oneness-with-each-other. A situation is a state of ex­

perience, wherein objects and events take on various

^These stages are essentially the same as the process of reflective thought. See How We Think, pp. 107 ff. and cf. pp. 171-178 and 195-202. See also ^uest for Cer­ tainty (Allen & Unwin, 1930), p. 226. ^Logic7 pp. 104-105; see also p. 117. ^ I b i m . p. 66. 23 arrangements. "One cannot decline to have a situation for that is equivalent to having no experience, not even one of disagreement."^ In Knowing and the Khomi "situation" is defined as "either.. .the environment of an object (interactionally), or...the full situation in­ cluding whatever object may be selectively specified within it (transactionally)...."^ The latter usage is preferred, as it stresses the function of the organism in the environment as necessary to the attainment of a situation. The indeterminate situation, while not completely disorganized, is characterized as "disturbed, troubled, ambiguous, confused, full of conflicting tendencies, obscure, etc."® The situation has these traits, and we are doubtful in the presence of such due to its inherent indeterminacy. The resolution of the indeterminate situation into a determinate one creates a unified whole, 4 which marks the successful close of inquiry. The unifica* tion "is always a unification of the subject-matter which constitutes an individual problematic situation. It is not unification at large..../ït is/^ resolution of specific problematic situations.

^Logic. p. 69. ^K&K. p. 69. .Logie. p. 105. ^Ibld.. p. 131. °T5ld., p. 531. 24 Vïliile th.e doubtful situation was seen to be tbe result of the indeterminate situation when viewed from

the aspect of the state of the inquirer, much confusion could be avoided if these were not regarded as existenti- ally or ontologically two, but as differing merely in the point of emphasis m each.^ For there is a con­

tinuous transaction from the first through the second to the problematic situation. "The indeterminate situa­

tion becomes problematic in the vei^ process of being 2 subjected to inquiry." And inquiry begins in doubt, as we have seen, thus forming a continuum, as doubt ? arises from the indeterminate situation. It is only in the institution of the problem and in the resolution of the problematic situation that the concept of *fact* enters as an important concern of inquiry. The problem represents the partial transformation through inquiry 4 of the problematic situation into a determinate one. When the problem is grasped or understood, it acts to regulate the "selection and the weighing of observed facts and their conceptual ordering. Here then the

status of *fact* in Dewey's system is seen to be that of

^This will be illustrated later, pp. 137-8* fLogic, p. 107. ySee g&K. pp. 314-5. ^Logic. p. 108. B l ElTl p. 71. 25 the ordered material of the problematic situation.

Inquiry begi.xs in doubt arising from the indeter­ minate situation, and it terminates in the resolution of the doubt of that particular situation. In this case the outcome of inquiry warrants assertion of some kind about some situation, but this outcome may in turn be incorporated into another inquiry, and the process may go on in an apparently unending continuum. Thus Dewey avoids the word ’knowledge* as being too laden with the of finality and considers the proper interpretation as that of the product of "competent inquiry, " or as identical with "warranted assertion. For Dewey there are no conditions external to the situation or inquirer which allow a final pronouncement of "truth" or "know­ ledge ." This is due largely to his attempt to avoid the ontological realm of discourse and restrict himself pure- 2 ly to the logical or to the realm of knowings and knowns. Dewey’s shining of the traditional metaphysical mode of knowing in favor of the supremacy of scientific method is evident in his statement that "the method we term ’scientific* forms for the modern man. ..the sole depend- «K able means for disclosing the realities of . " As was seen in the above account of the process of in­ quiry, knowledge as the intuition of the fixed order of

*Logic. pp. 8-9; 143. 2See the very revealing "Appendix" to K&K. ^Living Philosophies. p. 24. 26 the world is not the end of applied scientific method.

What scientific method does do is to enable man to ad­ just intelligently to the particular exigencies of the problems that face him. *The method of intelligence*

is but another name for the method of inquiry, for in­ quiry is the directed and controlled resolution of pro­ blematic situations into determinate situations. Dewey says, "My assertion of the supremacy of method is identical with my assertion that * intelligent action is the sole ultimate recourse of mankind in every field whatever.*"^ ’Intelligence* much better than *knowledge* characterizes his conception of science, for it stresses the active aspect of method and inquiry, while ’know­

ledge * seems to stand for something very rigid and 2 fixed. Rather than fixed conclusions and bounderies for science, Dewey’s conviction of the supremacy of method allows that science is not held back by the sub­ ject matter it considered in a previous era. In so far as scientific method is formal and devoid of specific content, it can adjust to the particular requirements of the day.

The importance of experimental, scientific method in the physical disciplines has been the first item to receive attention in recent years. However, since -

^"Reply,” PJD. p. 583. ^Ibid., pp. 520-1, 27 metliod >ias precedence over subject matter the dominance

of physical Inquiry will not overshadow the rising in­ terests and work in problems of extending scientific method to moral matters. Dewey explains apologetically that if he has seemed to stress unduly physical knowledge gained through inquiry, this is not because it has any exclusive claim.^ Rather it is Chat because of the maturity of physical knowledge, it exemplifies best the characteristics of scientific method as it is applied experimentally and empirically. This is true because moral and social subjects are still inadequately treated by science. The same method would apply in this latter realm, but the needed experimental application has not been made to date. Dewey * s faith that the method of inquiry rill find 2 application in the moral and social spheres is sometimes regarded as showing #n "unscientific" worship of an idea to the point of departure from the accepted criteria of science. In replying to Prof. Geiger in the Library of Living Philosophers volume, Dewey tries to make it quite clear that "A thing may be ultimate in the sense of coming last in a given temporal series, so that it is ultimate for that series. I n this sense the method of

^"Reply,” PJD. p. 527. 2See total context of above quotation from Living Philosophies. p. 24. ^"Reply,” PJD, p. 594. 28 inquiry is an ultimate value for Dewey, **It is the last, the final or closing- thing we come upon in inquiry into inquiry. But the place it occupies in the temporal mani­ festation of inquiry is what makes it such a ^ultimate/^ value, not some. • .^ûitrinsic property^. "

As a matter of fact all values for Dewey derive their "valuity""^ from their role in the process of inquiry, and it is for this reason that he does not find any particular difficulty in treating moral suhject matter scientifically. This does not mean that Dewey has been able to give any scientific analyses of concrete moral problems or that he has demonstrated what is scientific­ ally the best resolution of a moral perplexity. He would be the first to admit the programmatic nature of the science of ethics in its present form. He has said that "the coz^lexity of the conditions upon which objects of human and liberal value depend is a great obstacle, and it would be too optimistic to say that we have as yet enough knowledge of the scientific type to enable us to regulate our judgments of value very extensively.

^Dewey says, "If language had provided us with a special abstract noun (such as goodness in connection with good), say valuity or valueness, a good deal of ambignous dis­ cussion resulting in incoherent conclusions might have been avoided." ("Eie Field of ’Value,*" pp. 66-7). P* 791, from The Quest for Certainty. 29 What is needed at the present stage of development of scientific ethics are more specific inquiries into particular situations, as well as more application of what scientific information relative to valuations is now on hand. Since the science of ethics is mainly programmatic, the chief energies of Dewey have been channeled into the area of ethical philosophy known as value theory. As Yervant Krikorian points out, "Dewey^ s analysis of ethical value is not as incisive as his notion of value in general....He sees the distinction between value and ethical value as a matter of degree- of the importance of alternative actions to human, social relations- rather than a matter of difference in kind. One migjht parrot Krikorian and say that Dewey's analysis of value in general has not been as incisive as his notion of valuation. Having begun his ethical writings at a time in the history of philosophy when value was generally conceived as fixed prior to inquiry in the ontological structure of the universe, Dewey felt it especially binding upon himself to be crystal clear that he was not interested in investigating such entities, if there were any. Rather his attention was fixed upon the generative and regulative conditions of value, that is, upon the process of valuation. As

^Erikorian, "The Ethics of Naturalism," p. 34. so far as values in themselves Cif this phras/^ing has

meaning) one cannot make any fruitful statements. They just occur as aspects of immediate experience, and that is the end of the matter. ^ vVhat is important are the conditions under which values arise in experience, or to he more exact the conditions which cause value to 2 occur.

Dewey holds that there is no such thing (physical or mental substance, event, situation, person, group, cause, or movement) as value which is not the value of some particular thing, event, or situation. This "indicates that * value * is an ad.j ectival word, naming that which is a trait, property, qualification of some thing.... When 'value* is made to designate any special grouping of things, it is properly interpreted as an abstract noun. Thus value is not held to be an ultimate independently existing aspect of the world. Instead it is the resultant product of a process of

valuation or judgment. The material toSECod which critical

valuational judgments are directed is the common enjoy­ ments, likings, etc. of everyday life. Dewey says.

Now I do a good deal more than hold that qualitative 'enjoyment,' 'satisfaction,' is a constituent of the experienced material which the valuation judgment is about or 'is concem-

^E&N. pp. 398; 403. ^Ibid. . p. 396. ^Dewey, "The Field of 'Value,*“ p. 66. ^Ibid. 31 lag.* I hold that it is the entire material that judgment is about How Dewey knows that such is the case is not the question

here. Dewey, having rejected ontic status for values, apparently finds this position self-evident to anyone who will trouble to think about it.

However, it is an essential part of Dewey’s view that the raw material, so to speak, of valuations is

not itself a value. On the one hand Dewey insists that if value is found in the consequent of some activity, there must also be value present in the means to that 2 result, yet he does not allow that there must be value in the raw material of the situation prior to the applica­

tion of the instrumental means necessary to bring about consummatory value. To continue the above quotation

from Problems of Men;

But it is an essential part of my view of valuation judgments that the satis­ faction, liking, enjoyment, they are about is not ij;Self a value save in a figurative way,, as when a san is a candidate. He isn’t a candidate per se. but only in a certain contextual situation.^ And so an enjoyment is called a value with reference

IPofM, p. 255. p. 397. 52 to being potentially tJae laaterial for an evaluative judgment, Tbe thought of there being ethical ends or values without these being ends for someone or conscious enjoyments by someone is self-contradictory in its 2 conception for Dewey. And it is only in reflective activity that ends are framed and enjoyments achieved through conscious effort. Dewey by his emphasis on value as the result of valuation does not deny the actuality of events of liking, prizing, holding dear. etc. out­ side the context of inquiry or valuation. ”Kor is their primary importance for human life in any way depreciated; the events are what make life worth having.”® Nor is he saying that men do not constantly harmlessly enjoy such passing affective experiences, without any intermediary judging. As a matter of fact such experiences are judged "only when conditions arise that cause doubt to arise as

^PofM, p. 254; see also "Reply," PJD, p. 583, where he says: "That is to say, precisely because I hold that experimental method as union of theory and practice, of and operations directed by them, has supremacy over an antecedent situation, I also hold that one and the same method is to be used in determination of physical judgment and the value-judgments of morals. In consequence I hold that enjoyments, objects of desires as they arise, are not values, but are pro­ blematic material for construction - for creation if you will - of values." gRIP, p. 143. [, p. 269. S3 to their value (not their occurrence)....”^

However, the value of such eatperiences lies not in their intrinsic qualities as found in isolation. Rather their value lies in their ability to contribute to the furtherance of growth or to the continuation of the very 2 process of inquiry or reflective intelligence which is the means for discovering more ends within the continuum of experience. An essential distinction must be made between a value as it is enjoyed in immediate experience, and the conditions which constitute that experience a value. Dewey has said, "Properties and relations that entitle an object to be found good in belief are ex­ traneous to the qualities that are its immediate good; they /the former/^ are causal, and hence found only by search into the ^tecedent and the eventual.

Thus valuation takes precedence over value, in Dewey's ethical philosophy. While value is consummated in an immediate experience of enjoyment, the resulting enjoyment is only figuratively called a value. The meaning of "to value" as equivalent to appraising, weigh­ ing, estimating, or evaluating better interprets Dewey's jPofM. p. 269. '‘Growth itself is the only moral 'end,'" says Dewey in Reconstruction In Philosophy, p. 141. "...since reflection is the instrumentality of securing freer and more enduring goods, reflection is a unique intrinsic good. Its instrumental efficacy determines it to be a candidate for a distinctive posi­ tion as an immediate good, since beyond other goods it has power of replenishment and fructification. B&Jf.p.406. p. 405. 34 position.^ True the status of the concept of ’value*

is not consistently clear in Dewey’s writings. At an early stage it appeared that values possibly had some status apart from valuation, but that all one could legitimately be interested in was valuation. Then he seemed to be admitting immediate felt experiences as values, prior to inquiry, and still later he subordinates 2 value to the result of inquiry. Yet consistently he has called attention to the importance of valuation or reflective intelligence in the ascertaining of value in any given situation.

As if to emphasize the important role played by reflective intelligence in determining value and the valuable, Dewey claims that there is a common logical pattern found in scientific knowledge and in moral know­ ledge* However, he says, "instead of first accepting the traditional theoi*y of knowing according to which it is an accomodation of the self and its beliefs to condi­ tions already fixed, I have held that scientific knowing involves deliberate modification, through working ideas, of what previously existed...." Just as inquiry in general begins in an existing state of doubt, so valuation

^Logic« p. 178. ^Ân interesting discussion of the:.: shifts in emphasis in Dewey’s ethical writings is Marvin Fox’s, "On the Diversity of Methods in Dewey’s Ethical Theory, " Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, vol. 12, -no. 1, Sept. 1951, pp. 123-129. "Reply," PJD. pp. 578-9. 35 commences when desires arise in the organism under

conditions of unrest or instability*^ When there occurs something in the situation which causes an imbalance between organism and environment (or within organism in environment), then the organism begins to seek re­ lease from the resultant tension. This is what is gener­ ally described as the organism finding itself in an in­ determinate situation which produces a state of doubt and forces the formulation of the problem, the resolution of which would remove the doubt and create a determinate situation. Thus from a state of unrest and imbalance, one looks for that which will relieve the block in the on-going process of experience. In the theory of valua­

tion this is comparable to the formulation of ends-in- O view. Snds in relation to moral judgment are not properly thought of as pre-existing ends-in-themselves, for on this interpretation there is no real scope for moral judgment. There may be confusion on a person’s part as to how to attain the pre-determined end, but there could be no true judging of an open, unsettled situation in order to determine the end suited to the case. Just as hypotheses are framed in the context of the problematic situation, so "moral judgment is con­ cerned with an objective unsettled situation and...

TofV, p. 33. '^TofV. p. 15; Logic. pp. 167-8. 36 ends-In-view are framed in and by judgment as metbods

of resolving operations....”^

The end-in-view is then used as a guide for direction

of future action, just as the hypothesis is used "to in­ stigate and direct operations of experimental observa-

tion." In both cases the observable consequences in

action in their systematic relation to one another deter­ mine the worth of the end-in-view or of the hypothesis*

In the former case it is said that valuation has occurr- ed. When the end-in-view has been tested in its ability

to direct activity, then it can take its place as a means necessary in obtaining consequences of warranted

valuation through the proper use of means to a desirable

end.^ This is cpmparable to the manner in which an

hypothesis, once tested as to its ability to resolve a

problematic situation, "takes its place as a means neces­ sary to obtain consequences of warranted assertibility. r5

Thus judgments of value are seen to be merely judg­ ments predicting certain consequences for certain events

They are directive of future activity and do not merely 6 report present fact. While the presence of a ^ facto desire may be the occasion for the formation of a value

^Logie. p. 168. ^ b i d .. p. 11. ^ofV. pp. 29,38,46. ^*bid., pp. 31-2. ^Logic. p. 11. 6IMW. pp.784-5, from The Quest for Certainty. 37

judgment, the judgment has a jure character in so

far as it specifies conditions to he met with in

future experience if the enjoyment of a satisfied de­ sire is to he obtained.^

Judgments of value viewed as predictive and re­

gulative in nature are seen to he no different from other judgments. All judgments of practice are evalua- 2 _ tions, and "evaluations as judgments of practice are not a particular kind of judgment in the sense that they can he put over against other kinds.... True, judgments of value differ from others in the same sense that judgments of apples differ from those of oranges.

"The genuinely important difference resides in the fact of the much greater Importance with respect to the conduct of llfe-hehavior possessed hy the special

suhject-matter of so called value-judgments. If the parallel analysis of the theory of inquiry and the theory of valuation holds so far as the nature of judgments heing instrumental in resolving particular unsettled situations, it also holds in the discussion of the settled, determinate situation or the value which follows inquiry and valuation. What started the process of inquiry (or of valuation) as an unsettled.

^ M W . pp. 785-6. *T^ogle. p. 174. Slhld.. p. 179. ^fofg. pp. 258-9< 38

tension frangixt sitnation, is resolved into a unified whole (or instituted as valuable) at the close of in­

quiry. Just as the isolated apprehension of an object in experience is not knowledge of it, but only the stimulus for the inquiry that will, yield knowledge,^

so the isolated object or fulfillment of desire is not value, but only the stimulus for valuation. When inquiry

reaches "a close which fulfils the activities and condi­

tions which led up to it,”^ then the inquirer experiences the situation as a unified whole, and the isolated apprehension or desire takes its proper perspective as constitutive of knowledge or value.

There are several corollaries of the theory of in­ quiry and the theory of valuation which parallel one another. Just as standards, tests of validity, and meanings are not prior to inquiry but are generated out of and cannot be separated from the process of inquiry,so likewise norms, moral rules, and values are intricately bound up with valuation. Also intelligence or reason

takes its place in inquiry into knowledge and into value in the ends-means continuum as an instrument for A setting up appropriate means for desired ends. And

finally, just as Dewey has said that logic must be

^Logic. p. 143; IMBT. p. 788, from The Quest for Certain­ ty; felP. p. 85. ^^iOgic. p. 176. ®See, e.g., TofV. p. 26. ^Ibid.. p. 21. 39

"relative to consequences rather than to antecedents, a logic of prediction of probabilities ratber than one of deduction of certainties,”^ so the same conclusion holds for ethics in so far as the above analysis is correct.

Ethics is viewed as relative to consequences rather than antecedents, and its task is one of predicting the out­ come of probable paths of action, rather than deducing certainties from a store of predetermined ends. A common objection raised to a science of ethics is that science deals only with knowledge of facts, and values are non-factual, hence incapable of scientific treatment. However, *fact’ like *value* takes its mean­ ing from the context of inquiry, and while this aspect of his position causes some difficulty for the external critic, it eliminates the fact-value dichotomy as a block to the science of ethics. The parallelism between the theories of valuation and inquiry carries over in that the key concepts of value, on the one hand, and fact and knowledge, on the other, both find their meaning only within inquiry- not in any sense antecedently to inquiry. Superficially viewed this provides a common meeting ground for facts and values, which is one of the most pressing demands for a science of ethics. Dewey dissociates himself from the often expressed view that facts are objects, or data, or a "givenness”

^Philosophy and Civilization, pp. 138-9. 4 0 having status outside the context of inquiry, such that inquiry must conform to them, if it is to yield true conclusions. ”An object...is a set of qualities treated as potentialities for specified existential consequences.”^

To make it clear that objects are not separate ontological entities, existing apart from inquiry, one may regard them as "the ob.j ectives of inquiry. " "For things exist as objects for us only as they have been previously 2 determined as outcomes of inquiries. " There can be no doubt that Dewey means this to be understood literally, for the same thought is expressed quite clearly in Know- ing and the Known in at least three different places. It might be objected that this view is of the nature of an epistemological , whether Dewey denies such 4 or not. And when he states that what is beyond the knowing and the known "is not worth bothering about in any inquiry undertaken into knowings and knowns, he is either uttering a tautology (allowing that there may be something beyond), or he is dogmatically begging the whole epistemological question, or he is simply saying that he is not interested in such problems.

Little need be said about data and givens as facts

p : ...... 3K&K, pp. 70, 120, and 165. ^TïïTd.. p. 76 #8. Slbïd.. p. 74. 41 in the realistic sense, for they are treated in the same manner as objects, "That which is *given* in the strict

sense of the word *given,* is the total field or situa­ tion. And data "are not isolated, complete or self- sufficient. To be a datum is to have special function in control of the subject-matter of inquiry. In oanderstanding the status of *fact* according to Dewey, once more the focus of attention is the problema­ tic situation. In the problematic situation all of the observed conditions constitute the "facts of the case";

"they constitute the terms of the problem, because they are conditions that must be reckoned with or taken ac- count of in any relevant solution that is proposed."

A possible solution to the problem is suggested by the facts of the case, and the fitness of the solution is decided in terms of its ability to resolve the problema­ tic situation. "In logical fact, perceptual and con­ ceptual materials are instituted in functional correlativ- ity with each other, in such a manner that the former locates and describes the problem while the latter represents a possibly method of solution. Both of these are located within the resolution of the problematic situation and are only relevant to the possible solution koRic. p. 124. ,Ibld. % i d .. p. 109. 4T5Id.. p. 111. 42 of tiie problem. Tbey stand for functional divisions in tbe labor of inquiry. Yi/bile observed facts may be ex­ istential, and ideational subject-matter non-existential,

tbey are capable of working together in resolving an ex­ istential situation because "both observed facts and entertained ideas are operational. By this latter expression is meant that facts are not "self-sufficient and complete in themselves." They are observed events selected and ordered in terms of the problem situation, and they have their factual or evi­ dential capacity only in the problematic situation. It is a little confusing when Dewey talks about "trial facts" as those "observed by sound sense organs and techniques" but still not facts of the case unless they can be so instituted as to have an evidential function. Likewise when he speaks of "observed facts" as existentially pre­ sent. Possibly one may dismiss the difficulties arising from terminology and concentrate on the important point that where there are no organisms with problems, there are no facts. Facts are not presented from outside, but are represented in the very process of inquiry. "*(T)he facts of the case*, or what is significant in respect to the present problem" seem to be the manner in which Dewey prefers to treat *fact.* Pacts are provisional and

^Logic. p. 112. 2lbid.. p. 114. 43 operational^and. Important only in th.eir evidential capa­ city for solving tb.e problem. To speak of an nnknovm fact for Dewey is equivalent to a contradiction. "Anything named *fact * is such both with respect to the knowing operation and with re­ spect to what is known. And the activity of knowing and the known are both required, "and are required in such a way that each is taken along with the other, and in no sense as separable." Fact, however, is not limited to what any one man knows or even to what any one group knows, or to any one age. *Pact’ has the same range of reference as "cosmos, universe, or nature," but it must be remembered that these are situations as previously defined, and they are not separate ontological entities. Just as for Dewey the dichotomy of facts and values melts away, so his position rejects the conception of truth and knowledge as being extra-mundane and entirely independent of the conditions of the common life ex­ periences which give rise to value. Knowledge or warrant­ ed assertibility is not something removed and independent, but an integral part of the very on-going process of life.®

Knowledge must not be thought of as something prior to and independent of knowing, for knowing in some manner is

p. 54. ^ H d . , p. 54. j^lbid., p. 62. RIP, p. 83; Quest for Certainty, pp. 44-48. 44 piorposeful and able to control the quality of experienced objects. Knowledge is not isolated from overt action, for it is in itself ”a mode of practical action and is

the way of interaction by which other natural interactions become subject to direction.In the opening pages of 2 the Logic knowledge is said to be and only to be "the approprate close of inquiry," and any interpretation that would put any meaning on * knowledge* apart from inquiry leads to confusion and involvement in preconceived meta­ physical and epistemological notions. Apart from "the product of competent inquiries" *knowledge * loses all meaning and becomes so loose and vague as to allow for any interpretation. On the other hand *warranted asserti­ bility’ is free from the ambiguity of the older terms ’belief* and *kn,owledge, * and this new term is signifi­ cant in that it calls attention to the process of in­ quiry within which it arises. It also points up the posi­ tion that the conclusions of inquiry are alive, poten­ tialities for future actions, and are not fixed and static affairs. Thus the process of inquiry which yields warranted assertibility is an on-going concern which is continually being revised and reshaped.

This is the type of knowledge which involves media­ tion. "Mediation, in this context, means that an in-

^Quest for Certainty, p. 107* liogic. pp. 7-9* 45 1 ferential function is involved, in all "warranted assertion*"

But vdi8,.t of immediate knowledge, not a priori, but as

direct experience? "This kind of direct * knowledge, ' "

Dewey says, "I shall call apprehension; It is seizing or grasping^ intellectually, v/ithout questioning. But it is

a product, mediated through certain organic mechanisms

of retention and habit, and it presupposes prior experi- 2 ences and mediated conclusions dravm from them." ITow possibly without confusion the word ‘truth* may be spoken of, keeping in mind all the time the position as s"bated to the present. As stated in Reconstruction in 3 Philosophy, according to Dewey* s position "the nature of

truth given by the eacperimental and f"unctional type of

logic...is completely a corollary from the nature of thinking and ideas," That "vdiich is an accurate guide to future activity is true, and the capacity for such guid­ ance is exactly vdiat Dewey means by ‘true. * In what may be rather an unfortunate assertion (unfort"unate in that it might lead to confusion and unfair criticism) Dewey states: "The hypothesis that works is the true one: and truth is an abstract noun applied to "the collection

of cases, actual, foreseen and desired, that receive 4 confirmation in their works and consequences." The possible confusion is in respect to saying that an iLogic. p. 139; 2lbid,, p. 143j italics on "but" supplied, ^ a g e 1 2 8 . I, p. 129. 46 hypo thesis may he true, and in regard to the words * de­ sired* and * works. * This would readily be cleared up by remembering that what starts out as an hypothesis ^ it works, loses its hypothetical nature and becomes war- rantedly assertible- The concepts of desire and satis­ faction are admittedly in part personal, but what starts out as personal desire is related to the problematic situ­ ation, which is a public affair. Further the type of satisfaction that is demanded is that related to the needs and conditions of the problem, and this includes public and objective conditions. Further, to stem possible ob­ jections, workability need not be conceived of in crude terms of profit motivation. "As matter of fact, truth as utility means service in making just that contribution to reorganization in experience that the ide^r theory claims to be able to make. Thus the true means the verified and nothing else, and an awareness of such would go a long way in clearing up the confusion caused by many 2 of our political, social, religious, and moral dogmas.

It might only remain to call attention to the famous footnote in the Logic, page 345n., where Dewey cites two definitions of Peirce as being "The best definition of truth from the logical standpoint which is known to me.... "

^ Ç P , p. 129. ^This view can be obtained also from Philosophy and Civilization, pp. 1-36, especially see 5, 9, 23 and 24. 47

Ttiese make the truth that opinion which all qualified investigators are inclined tovrard after the problem has been investigated to the fullest reach of its possibilities, or after all the evidence is in. This definition it will be seen readily, is merely a theoretical one, for in fact all the evidence is never in on a problem, and the death of the last investigator on earth will not truly leave the problem any nearer "absolute truth." Such a concep­ tion of truth may be helpful, nevertheless, as an ideal limit toward which all investigation tends. Now the difficulty in grasping Dewey * s analysis of the contrast of value prior to inquiry and as a result of inquiry may be compared to the question of 'fact, * 'truth, ' and 'knowledge ' in his general theory of inquiry. If it has been clear that there is a parallel between theory of inquiry and theory of valuation, between the general and the specific, and further if it is understood how Dewey treats factuality and knowledge in general, then ÜB problem of knowledge of values assumes its proper per­ spective in his position*^ Since Dewey subordinates ethics, in the traditional sense, to general theory of value, and in turn makes theory of value dependent upon his theory

^In Problems of Men Dewey says that his theory of value- judgments is but a special case of his general theory of knowledge, (page 258). See also "The Field of 'Value,'" p. 76. 48

of valuation, the connection between his theory of.valu­ ation and theory of inquiry throws quite a bit of light upon Dewey^s stand on the science of ethics. For science is conceived by Dewey in terms of method and particularly the method of inquiry. Dewey speaks of "the method of

effecting change by means of experimental inquiry and test; the scientific method," as if it is only one method. Thus our interpretation connecting valuation, the method of inquiry, and science, and stressing the supremacy of the one method of inquiry in science is maintained in spite of contrary suggestions. Prof. Vivas has said that he finds in a 1949 article of Dewey * s some indication that the centrality of the method of inquiry in all science had given way to the position that different scientific disci­ plines require different methods, with the conclusion that the science of ethics requires methods which do not merely imitate those of established sciences, but which are es- 2 pecially designed to meet the task at hand* Mr. Vivas is referring to the following passage, where Dewey says :

The word *methods * is italicized as a pre­ caution against a possible mi sunderstending which would be contrary to what is intend­ ed. What is needed is not the carrying over of procedures that have approved them- jPofM. p. 157. Vivas- % e Moral Life and the hiuhical Life, p. 357, ch. 8, #4. The article he quotes in support of his view is "Philosophy's PuturS in our Scientific Age*" 49

selves in physical science, hut new methods as adapted to human issues and problems, as methods already in scientific use have shown themselves to be in physical subject matter.-

To say that this may be a reversal of Dewey's view on the centrality of the method of inquiry in science, seems

to be overlooking the synonymous usage of "methods” and "procedures" in the above statement. The meaning of this quotation can be understood better if the words "procedures" or "techniques" were substituted for "methods." At any event, what Dewey means is not a contradiction of his doc­

trine of the supremacy of the method of inquiry, but rather a reminder that inquiry in general finds its outlets in the various particular techniques of different disciplines. Prof. Vivas indicates,that this interpretation of the quo­

tation is capable of being defended, but there still remains a note in his comments that suggests he feels the Commentary article signifies a change for Dewey. However, from the present point of view the above statement of Dewey’s is another expression of the same attitude found when in the Logic he wrote in critici-sm of the tendency to try to re­ duce all science to quantitative terms : "Insistence upon numerical measurement, when it is not inherently required by the consequence to be effected, is a mark of respect for the 2 ritual of scientific practice at the expense of its substance." philosophy’s Future...," p. 393, footnote. ^Logic, p. 205. 50

Dewey bas right along maintained the centrality of In­ quiry and the need for particular techniques in particu­ lar disciplines to Implement Inquiry. On the very last page of the Logic the connection between scientific methods, meaning specific techniques and procedures, and the theory of Inquiry Is made evident by Dewey’s state­ ments that:'

Since scientific methods simply exhibit free Intelligence operating In the best manner available at a given time, the cultural waste, confusion and distortion that results from the failure to use these methods. In all fields In connection with all problems. Is Incalculable* These considerations reinforce the clàim^of logical theory, as the theory of Inquiry, to assume and to hold a position of primary buTna-n Importance.

Here the fact that particular scientific methods exhibit the method of Inquiry, which Is the method of "free In­ telligence operating In the best manner available at a given time, Is emphasized by the concluding sentence which asserts a claim of primary Importance for scientific methods In their common name, the method or theory of Inquiry.

Now If the same process of Inquiry determines the objects -and forms of scientific knowledge and the nature of value, that is. If facts, truth, knowledge and value

^The equivalence In meaning of scientific method, method of Inquiry, and method of free intelligence or creative Intelligence runs throu^ Dewey’s writings. Of. I.M.W.. pp. 273, 357, and 679 f. for citations from Itesays In Experimental Logic. ’'Authority, and Social Change, ** and Experience and Education. 51 all refer to inquiry, tb.en tiiere is clear reason wliy Dewey * s position entails the possibility of a science of ethics. In fact not merely the possibility, but even

the necessity of a science of values follows from his position. Thi;a is a theoretical as well as a practi:;al necessity. The theoretical necessity follows from the above analysis showing the intimate connection between valuation as inquiry and science as inquiry. This type of necessity does not carry the science of ethics very far toward its realization in actuality. Dewey admits that the 'conclusions stated do not constitute a complete theory of valuation. They merely state conditions to be satisfied if and when a complete theory is worked out.

In the mearQtime we must wait upon the carrying out of the requisite empirical investigations which will give the data that are so sorely needed. The theory of valuation "is itself an intellectual or methodological means and as such can be developed and perfected only in and by use. Since that use does not now exist in any adequate way, the theoretical consideration advanced and conclusions reached outline a program to be undertaken, rather than a complete theory. Actually Dewey has given us a theory of how "en^lrically grounded propositions about desires and interests as sources of valuations are

^TbfV, p. 53. ^ b i d . . p. 54. 52 possible»”^ Tills does not and cannot solve all the problems connected with, formulating empirically warrant­ ed valuation-propositions, i.e. propositions that are not a mere report of an accomplished valuing. However, such is a not Jied T'T-eparati'"- for the accomplishment of an adequate science of vaa.uation.

The backwardness of our application of the method of science and of intelligence to human affairs must be admitted. We are in a pre-scientific era in the field of O human relationships. The science of valuation or ethics 3 is today non-existent. This is not admitting that it is incapable of actualization, but it is frankly admitting the present state of affairs. And in all humility Dewey admits that philosophy and philosophers are not going to do the actual work of producing a modern approach to moral inquiry. "That work can be done only by the resolute, patient, co-operative activities of men:: and women of good will, drawn from every useful calling, over an in­ definitely long period. Just as philosophers performed a needed pre-requisite for the actualization of com­ petent physical inquiry, so now philosophers are challeng­ ed to do similar work for moral inquiry. iTofV. p. 57. gliogic. p. 77. ’^RIP, p. 21. 4STF. p. 25; see also p. 393 (for similar e:^ressioEÎ)dn"Philos- ophy*3 Future..."'. 53 The philosopher mast provide the theoretical fo-unda- tion for a science of ethics, while the practicing scientist's task is to provide the needed positive re­ search and data for implementing the philosophic fonnda- tion into a vf or king science of valuation. The philosopher's intense interest in the problem of a science of ethics emphasises the practical necessity of bridging the gap

between human cognitive and valuative behaviour. liVhile some men seem to fear the encroachment upon man's life of scientific technique and knowledge without the balancing effects of wisdom, and thus to turn away intellectually snd emotionally from a science of ethics, Dewey sees the saiü-e ;split ss a call to renewed efforts to establish ethics upon a firm foundation in scientific knowledge. This he expresses by saying: "When the consciousness of science is fully impregnated with the consciousness of human value, the greatest dualism which now weighs humanity down, the split between the material, the mechani­ cal, the scientific and the moral and ideal will be destroy­

ed.

^RIP. p. 139. 54 Chapter 3* RussellPosition Regarding a Science of Ethics

Bertrand Russell orientates his thoughts on the nature of science around the concept of knowledge, in the same sjanner as Dewey does. However, not just any systematic body of knowledge can qualify as science. '■Science, as its name implies, is primarily knowleda-e.; by convention it is knowledge of a certain kind, th> kind namely, which seeks general laws connecting a number of particular facts. The ultimate ideal of science is to build up a

hierarchy of propositions which are connected with one another in a logical manner and which are ultimately 2 based on a certstin number of particular facts. The basic facts for any science will be certain events which, however independent of the observer they may be, are

capable of being noticed in perceptive experience and reported in basic propositions. Besides a number of

basic propositions it is necessary to have a group of

"other premises assertii^ matters of fact, in addition

to pure preceptive propositions. /Russell gives^ the name ’factual premiss* to any uninferred which asserts something having a date and which /Ts

p. viii. 2lbid.. p. 58. 55 "believed^ after critical scrutiny,”^ However, th.is alone is not enough, to "build up the necessary body of knowledge required for an empirical science. "We require,” ac­ cording to Russell, "in addition, the premises necessary for deduction, and those other premises, whatever they

may be, that are necessary for the non-demonstrative in­ ferences upon which science depends.These latter, in

their familiar form, are causality and the principle of

induction.

Even though the theoretical foundations of empirical knowledge may give the layman a feeling of bewilderment at the complicated basis of scientific knowledge, and even though the working scientist does not talk the language of common speech, fundamentally scientific investigation is very simple in its outlines. "It consists in observ­ ing such facts as will enable the observer to discover g general laws governing facts of the kind in question."

The steps in üiis procedure are the familiar observation of significant facts, framing of a hypothesis to cover the facts, deducing the consequences of the hypothesis, and seeking to verify the consequences. If the facts bear out the hypothesis, then it can be accepted as a theory and be made the basis for further investigation.

&IMT. p. 190. Ibid. « p. 190. 380. p. 13. 56 Altiiough. th.e scientist starts from particular facts, his ideal goal is always to formulate a law of wider and wider scope to account for certain facts in general.^

The concept of "fact," in contradistinction to Dewey, looms large in Russell * s views on the nature of science, as is obvious from the above account. He means by a fact an event or occurence which simply is what it is, possibly quite apart from anyone*s awareness of the 2 occurrence. Most facts are independent of human con­ sciousness, although the data of consciousness are them­ selves facts in so far as they are events occurring at a certain place and a certain time. When a factual event occurs in the proximity of an organism capable of recording the occurrence in an experience, then there is the possibility of knowledge. Knowledge is the awareness that a given proposition is true, that what the proposi­ tion asserts corresponds to the facts.

Though the attainment of knowledge is paramount in Russell's conception of science, he acknowledges that from its earliest development science has had two functions : "first, to enable us to know things and, second, to enable 3 us to dn things." This turns our attention away from the nature of science in its strict sense and focuses attention

^SO, p. 57; n. 9. p. 143; IM T . p. 357. '^Impact of Science on Society, p. 21. 57 on the effects of science in western civilization. In its knowledge aspect the effects of science are limited to a relatively few persons who have attained the degree of intelligence necessary to understand the utterances

of the men of science.^ But in the area of action re­ sulting from scientific know-how there is scarcely a person living in the civilized world who has not felt the effects of science.

Russell has said that modem life is built on science in the sense that "we all depend upon scientific inventions and discoveries for our daily bread and for our comforts o and amusements. Further the scientific frame of mind has penetrated into even the common experiences of our everyday lives. We consult the weather forecast before planning a picnic. We examine the labels on our food products before buying, to insure the maximum vitamin and mineral content. We vaccinate and innoculate against dis­ ease, and we put fluorine in our drinking water to prevent tooth decay. "Both for good and evil almost everything that distinguishes our age from its predecessors is due to science."® Science has put within man’s power and reach the elimination of disease, poverty, and ignorance. It is no longer necessary for vast numbers of the world’s

^kow Will Science Change Morals?," p. 521. ^Sceptical Essays, p. 36. 5Â&Ï. p. 55.--- ^ 58 population to be sacrificed to ignorance and tbe forces of nature. True there are severe limits on the extent and efficacy of scientific knowledge. But within the possibilities of improvement in human life which science has given us there is much that can be done at the present stage. It is folly, Russell has said, to reject the present benefits of science because of obstacles in the way of the application of scientific technique in human life.^

However, the distinction between science as know­ ledge and science as power has given rise to doubts in Russell*s mind about these very benefits which he has^ extolled. There is no doubt in his mind that science considered as knowledge is of extreme value for mankind. If we should ever lose our faith in the value of know­

ledge and the. discovery of truth mankind would be taking a serious step backward. "To lose faith in knowledge is

to lose faith in the best of man's capacities."^ It may not always be that when the truth is discovered by

science it will be considered edifying in a given society,'’ but the pursuit of truth must be disinterested. The faith is that it is better to know the truth, even though the immediate consequences seem bad, than to persist in

» P» 86* # P«. 133« . p. 78. 59 error in a fool’s paradise*

Thns it would be an error to say that there is no connection whatsoever between science and values for Russell. The case is, however, that while scientific knowledge is valued by Russell, he does not see any manner in which questions of value are subject to scientific investigation, except as regards means-ends relationships. As he puts it:

Science, in so far as it consists of knowledge, must be regarded as having value, but in so far as it-^onsists of technique the question whether it is to be praised or blamed depends upon the us% that is made of the technique. In itself it is neutral,neither good nor bad, and any ultimate views that we may have about what gives value to this or that must come from some other source than science.

Whether he means technique or knowledge by the last use of ’science,* is a matter open to interpretation.

If it is known that knowledge has value, then it would seem that science in its legitimate function of deter­ mining means to ends could investigate the value claims of various things as to whether or not they furthered knowledge. True, scientific technique is neutral, just like a baseball bat which can be used as a lethal weapon or to play ball with. However,’ Russell Is far from making technique the whole of science. On the other hand the ejnphasis which he puts upon the ultimacy of those value dispositions which are not open to scientific investigation

^A&I. p* 55. 60

leads one to expect that they in some manner are fixed,

absolute affairs which are outside the scope of human control. Yet Russell passed from his Platonic view

of values as far back as 1915 when George Santayana’s piercing criticism caused him to reconsider his posi­

tion. He refers to this in the "Preface” of Mysticism

and Logic. (1929) where he says:

I no longer regard good and evil as objective entities wholly independent of human desires.. ..It was Santayana who first led me to dis­ believe in the of good and evil by his criticism of my then views in his *Y/inds of Doctrine,but I have been gradually driven to a position beyond that which he holds, since for him but not for me, the realm of essence is eternal and independent of existence.^ Then the inability of science to treat ultimate

values is not due to values having an ontic status which puts them "beyond the scope of spatio-ter^oral investigation. The case is actually the very opposite. Values for Russell, as hinted at in the above passage,

are so bound up with human desires and passions that they are beyond the range of rational persuas-

^Russell refers to Chapter 4, Part IV, "Hypostatic Ethics." In part, Santayana sa3rs; "For the human system vôiickey is truly more intoxicating than coffee, and the contrary opinion would be in error; but -vdiat a strange way of vindicating this real, though relative distinction, to insist that vhiskey... is pervaded, as it were, by an inherent intoxication, and stands dead drunk in its bottle I Yet just in this way Mr. Rg^[el]^ja-sA ür# Moore conceive things to be dead good and dëËar bad." (Page 146) . %SbL. p. V. 61 ion^ and lience incapable of being treated scientifically* In what traditionally has been regarded as philosophy there have been many questions which, were properly a matter of scientific investigation* Russell would regard such, questions as the nature of the human mind, the nature of the matter, the problems of infinity, space, time, and the origin of life as properly fally within the range of scientific investigation.

There remains, however, a vast field, tradi­ tionally included in philosophy, where scientific methods are inadequate. This field includes ultimate questions of value; science alone, for example, cannot prove that it is bad to enjoy the infliction of cruelty. Whatever can be known, can be

^"Why Fanaticism Brings Defeat,” p. 452, col. 2. Just above the sentence placing values outside the range of rational argument, Russell says: ”The rational man is prepared to give reasons for his beliefs and these reasons, except as regards values, are ultimately deri^d from observation of facts.” This seems to allow^we can give reasons for our ethical beliefs, except they are not empirically grounded! In his reply in The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell (p. 719) in the same paragraph he denies it is possible ”to produce conclusive in­ tellectual arguments” in ethics, as well as denying that ”a theoretical argument is possible” at all in ethics. There are really, then, three things here, and which Russell means is by no means clear. Does he mean arguments in ethics are not empirically grounded; rational arguments are not conclusive; or, rational arguments are not possible? In If I Could Preach Just Once, p. 224, he names as a fallacy "the belief that virtuous behavior is something in favor of which no rational argument can be given. ” This would indicate rational argument is possible, but not conclusive or empirical. Yet Russell is certainly ambiguous on this point. 62 known by means of science; but things which are legitimately matters of feeling lie outside its province.^

Ethics then is not concerned with establishing true propositions in regard to an objective factual value- order. Questions of value are "legitimately matters of feeling" and lie outside the province of a discipline which is concerned with ascertaining the facts involved and recording these facts in true propositions. In a very neat metaphor Russell expresses his view on the nature of ethics in this manners "I should say that an ethic is, as it were, a lightning conductor for human passions, to enable them within a deterministic world to work in a way that produces a minimum of disaster.” The function of ethics is primarily emotive and persuasive.

One can express his ethical passions and can try by what­ ever means of persuasion are in his power to win others over to a like conviction. But unlike scientific con­ troversies one does not appeal to facts in ethics. One tries to change men's feelings.® "Every attempt to persuade people that something is good (or bad) in itself, and not merely in its effects, depends upon the art of rousing feelings, not upon an appeal to evidence.

There is no evidence which can be appealed to in attempt-

1 rgWP, p. 834. 2 Spinoza's Ethics." p. 107. Power. pp. 257, 259-260. ^R&S.p. 247. 63 ing to settle a question of th.e ultiinate goodness or bad­ ness of anything. Each party to an ethical dispute can merely appeal to emotions and use every art of persuasion in his power, but when these avenues fail, disagreement over ultimate values is inevitable.^

This point of view on the part of Russell results from his theory of value, which he apparently things necessarily entails the rejection of ethics as other than persuasive and emotive. The supposed necessity of this conclusion will be investigated later. For the moment we shall merely state his position as he presented it in an essay entitled "Good and Bad," which appeared in Polemic in 1946. Russell has seldom discussed the abstract concept of value in the manner common to American value theorists. His value theory has usually been pre­ sented piecemeal as a part of a general discussion of values in a specific social, political, religious, or scientific problem area. So in the essay referred to the key concept which is discussed is *Gooc^* rather than

•Value. • *Good* can be interpreted as meaning positive value without doing any violence to Russell’s ethical

^B&S. p. 241. %.B. Perry, D. W. Prall, DeWltt Parker, Gardner Williams, John Dewey, Ray Leplay et alia. Hence he doesn’t see that he is asserting objective grounds for argument over the nature of value and ’value,’ while claiming such entails complete at the level of particulars. 64 position. However, the absence of a general theory of value in Russell*s writings leaves the inter-relationship of the three traditional values, the Good, the True, and the Beautiful, and the inter-relation of their respective disciplines, ethics, logic, and aesthetics, wholly un-

dertennined. This is a serious handicap in the endeavor to discuss Russell*s ethics and value theory, so we must resort to interpreting 'good* as meaning positive value. The justification of this interpretation is found in 1 Religion and Science? "Questions as to 'values * - that is to say, as to what is good or bad on its own account, in­

dependently of its effect - ...."

Vïhether 'good* and 'bad* are words vdiich can be given

a precise verbal definition or not is an open question with Russell. In any event he is sure that they first come to

be understood ostensively. He does not deny that people have experiences to which they would point as being good or bad. Just what is involved in such cases, where it is not obviously a case of instrumental value, is the question

one must ^sk. Russell says, "A thing is 'good,' as X wish to use the term, if it is valued for its own sake, and not only for its effects." It is not possible to value things as means unless the end to which the means lead has intrinsic value.

p* 242. p# 2. 65 Russell holds that a certain condition or a certain situation has an intrinsic quality which inclines one to either choose it or avoid it. “It is this intrinsic quality," he says, "that X call when we incline to choose it and 'had* when we incline to reject it.

On the face of this it would seem that goodness is a property or quality of an object, just as shape or size is. However, this quality is not a quality of the object in isolation. It is more like a .secondary quality, in that the presence of a human observer is necessary for the actualization of it. This is seen when Russell says that "In an inanimate world there would be nothing either _o good or bad. Or in another comment where he observes that if we were indifferent to what happens to us the dualisms of good and bad, rigjht and wrong would not exist.

It is not anything objective in thing or event, then, to which the words 'good* and 'bad* are given. These terms refer to a certain type of reaction to an object which a person either has or does not have. Russell ex­ presses his definition of positive value or 'good* in terms of satisfaction of desire.

I suggest that an occurrence is 'good* when it satisfies desire, or, more precisely, that we may define 'good* as 'satisfaction of desire*. One occurrence is 'better* than another if it satisfies more desires or s^ore intense desire.3

p. 2. iJb i d .. p. 5. ^Ibid.; cf. “Reply,“ PER, p. 740. 66 In defense of this definition of *good* Russell says that he is not claiming that this is the only possible meaning of the word, but "only that its consequences will be found more consonant with the ethical feelings of the majority of mankind than those of other theoreti­ cally defensible definitions.

On this interpretation of value when one states that so and so is good he may merely be saying that he desires it or that he finds himself inclined to seek to satisfy his desire for it. He may be mistaken as to what will actually satisfy his desire, or he may not "really" desire it, that is if he knew in advance what would be involved in satisfying his desire he might not desire it. From this point of view the only possibility of an ethical statement being in error is when one does not know his own mind, so to speak. However, this interpretation of ethical utterances does not quite measure up to Russell*s rigorous analysis.

For he holds that while an ethical statement may express

desire, it does not assert that one has a certain desire.

A judgment of value is not an assertion, but is merely an exclamation or expression of certain feelings or emotions one has. According to Russell, "Language serves three

^G&B. p. 5; this has implications for eliciting a body of axioms in value theory from Russell’s writings. Cf. Mill’s famous proof of ultilitarianism. Utilitarian­ ism. end of Ch. 1 and Ch. 4. 67 purposes: (1) to Indicate facts, (2) to express the state of the speaker, (3) to alter the state of the hearer. In some instances the difference between (1) and (2) does not readily present itsâf. To use Russell*s own example, if someone says "I am hotJ” the fact in­ dicated is a state of the speaker and it is the very 2 state that the speaker expresses. However, as Russell goes on, "Suppose I say *you are hot,* and suppose I believe what I say. In that case, I am * expressing* my state and * indicating * yours." To take a further state­ ment, "*I believe you are hot,* expresses a different state from that expressed by 'you are hot*; the fact that it indicates is the fact expressed by 'you are hot.*"

Now suppose the statement "Stalin is good" is made by someone. This is comparable to "You are hot, " and it would be supposed that the speaker is expressing his own state and indicating Stalin's. Now if this statement is properly interpreted as being in the indicative, it

”*expresses* a state of the speaker, and 'indicates* a fact or fails to do so. The problem of truth or falsehood

^IMT. p. 256. 2îbîd.. p. 258. gibi'd.. p. 259. Ibid. Cf. Dewey's statement, above p. 15, ''that what science is of is about what common sense subject-matter is of." This seems quite similar to Russell*8 analysis here and may be sigpifleant of wider agreement between the two positions. 68

has to do with ’indication.*”^ The obvious question then is what does the sentence indicate about Stalin’s state,

for unless it .indicates something, it is not capable of

being true or false. And if this is a model of all ethical sentences which do not assert a means-ends re­ lationship, then if it cannot be true or false, all ethical sentences of this type are barred from being treated scientifically.

In considering this, it must be kept strictly in

mind that the statement "I believe Stalin is good” is comparable to ”I believe you are hot. ” And like this latter sentence the fact that it indicates is the fact

expressed by "Stalin is good." Thus only by an inferenti­ al process going from "Stalin is good" to "I believe Stalin is good"- is there any fact indicated. But the

fact indicated in the latter sentence is not intended to be indicated in "Stalin is good."

Russell’s contention is that "Stalin is good" does not indicate anything about Stalin and only by inference based upon knowledge concerning the speaker does it indicate O anything about the speaker. Thus he says, "An ethical

judgment, according to me, expresses a desire, but only

inferentially implies that I feel this desire, just as a

statement in the indicative expresses a belief, but

^■^MT, p. 269. “eply," PER, p. 721. 69 inferentially Implies that I hare this belief.This foil07/8 from the view that *good* means * satisfaction of desire,* so when one says "Stalin is good," he ex­ presses his satisfaction with Stalin. That there is no fact or aspect of Stalin which is his goodness is illustrat­ ed by the diversity of opinion on the statement in question,

Stalin is Stalin, and when someone says "Stalin is the top ranking politician in the USSR," this refers to some as­ pect of the man which is not subject to the personal de­ sires of the person making the statement. That person may find the fact of Stalin* s rule very undesirable. None the less the statement remains true in view of the ob­ jective fact that Stalin 3^ what he is asserted to be.

But the case of the ethical statement is entirely different. Russell would argue "when we assert that this or that has * value, * we are giving expression to our own emotions, not to a fact which would still be true if our personal feelings were different.That this statement is a tautology is evident when it is considered in close connection with the profferred definition of value pre­ viously mentioned. None the less it leaves ethical statements in a state of subjectivity vdiich seems to forever bar ethics from becoming a science. For since value terms have no ontlc or objective reference, Russell l"Reply," PER, p. 723. p. 242. 70

sees the emotive interpretation of them as the only alter­ native.

The snbjectivity of ethics for Russell is bound up with his view that ethical judgments if properly expressed would be caste in the optative mood, rather than the indica­ tive. For then it would be quite clear that they do not indicate any facts but merely express one’s desires.

However, subjectivity in this case does not mean a selfish egocentricity for Russell. He would hold that ethical

judgments expressed in the optative mood will be of the form "Would that all men desired so and so. " His view would allow ethicists to be just as idealistic in framing their code of values as they had an inclination to be. By considering ethical ideals "as something desired, not egocentric, and such that the person desiring it wishes that every one else also desired it, it would be possible to build up an impersonal appearing ethic. Its ultimate foundation would be personal desire, but the object of that desire need not be merely one’s own benefit. In this sense Russell rejects psychological hedonism or any other ethic which limits man’s actions to a purely selfish sphere.

"The good," or goodness in» the concrete, in contrast to abstract value, is not merely the satisfaction of desire, 2 for each person actually seeks his own satisfaction. The good is the Tnaxinmm of compossible satisfied desires, and

p. 116. p. 5. 71 those desires that are large and generous have a greater degree of compossibility than selfish desires*

None the less, the case is that ethical statements are properly made in the optative, which expresses the state of the speaker without indicating any matter of fact* If ethical judgments do not assert any factual

conditions, then ethics does not contain any statements capable of being true or false. Yet as was seen earlier the establishment of a body of knowledge, that is a body

of true propositions, upon the basis of observation of facts and the formulation of principles which account for these facts, is the very essence of science for Bertrand Russell. Thus ethics, if his interpretation is correct,

is forever prohibited from becoming scientific, at least so far as ethics is concerned with ultimate questions of value. Russell has allowed ri^t along that if the question of ultimate value is settled or even agreed upon, then the rest of the problems of ethics can be decided

scientifically*^ These problems would then consist of merely finding the best means to the accepted ends, which is a task entirely within science*s scope*

One must then distinguish between a science of ultimate values, a science of instrumental values, and a scientific morality which takes its values from science

^"Three Ways to the World," p* 20; "Styles in Ethics," pp* 15-16; R&S. p. 240* 72

as technique. The possibility of the seoond of these does not carry one very far in attempting to establish a science of ethics, as long as questions of ultimate value are held to be in the condition Russell puts them.

In the mean time there is actually a threatening danger of a scientific morality as in the third case mentione^.

This would be a morality which took its direction from science as technique, rather than from science as know­ ledge. As technique science can immeasurably lighten

man* s burden by providing the requisite means for attain­ ing food, shelter, protection, and luxuries. If men use scientific technique wisely, their lives will be much better. If men are foolish in their application of scientific power and technique, they can make their lives miserable., devoid of value, joy, happiness, and freedom. The evils of a completely technological soeiety

were pictured by Russell in The Scientific Outlook which inspired Huxley*s Brave Hew World.

Science in order to be practically successful must reject the dsendi^xcy to respect the world as an object of

contemplative value. "Thus it is only in so far as we

renounce the world as it lover that we can conquer it as

its technicians. But this division is fatal to what is best in man. It is in this sense that a scientific

society with its technological morality is fatal to the

p. 264. 7S pursuit of truth., love, art, and the personal delights

of living*^ For a scientific morality ultimately sets the pursuit of power ahove all other goals, so that in time scientific power is sought for its own sake, not in order to make man*s physical state more bearable. If a scientific morality is to predominate in a society without destroying those things which Russell values, then in his opinion "it is necessary that in­ creases in knowledge should be accompanied by increase in wisdom..^j^tiaat is/^ a right conception of the ends of life. This 3s something which science in itself does not provide.

Thus Russell sees all too much possibility of a Brave New World sort of scientific morality, and no possibility of a true empirical science of ethics, values, or valua­ tion. He is not entirely satisfied with the degree of subjective relativism which his position entails, leaving universal moral values resting tenuously upon the mere chance of someone or other having altruistic desires. He thinks it is possible to find something not quite as subjective, and he feels a need to find some means to judge between conflicting values which, is not merely an embodiment of individual tastes* But what this would be.

p. 266. '^Tb i d . , p. 3C. ^Prospects of Industrial Civilization, p. 141. 74 beyond the cultivation of altruistic, benevolent impulses, he does not know. Bertrand Russell, in his usual candid­ ness, has faced the predicament of his ethical position with these words : ”I can only say that, while my own opinions as to ethics do not satisfy me, other people*s satisfy me still less.

^"Reply." PER, p. 724. 75 Part I I • Th.e Disagreement between Dewey and Russell over tlae Possibility of a Science of Etlaica

Chapter 4. The ^rohlem Viewed in the Light of the Wide

Areas of Agreement between Dewey and Russell

Thus far we have been content to set forth the basis within John Dewey * s and Bertrand Russell *s separate positions for the rejection or acceptance of the possibil­ ity of a science of ethics. That Dewey and Russell do disagree on this question is obvious in that one takes the affirmative and the other the clear negative position. To the question of why they disagree one might reply- because they hold different positions. And this after all may be the end of the matter. Yet if one is willing to set aside for the moment the often misleading guidance of labels- "pragmatist,”

"instinimentalist," "positivist,” "realist,” and so on- he might be struck with the wide agreement between the view of Dewey and that of Russell.^ One can not li^tly dismiss these two men’s disagreement on the possibility

H. S. Thayer comments on the great similarity and wide areas of agreement in Russell’s and Dewey’s whole philosophical positions in "Two %ieories of Truth...." p. 516. See below, p. 157. 76 of a science of ethics simply on the ground that they hold different positions. Truly, no two men are identical in their views. But let us consider the case for general

agreement between Russell and Dewey in an attempt to substantiate the view that the source of their disagreement on the question at issue must be given a more particular answer than the hypothetical reply given above. To begin with it is well to notice that the rift between the two philosophers is not as unconditional as it is sometimes made out to be. If in discussing their dis­

agreements they have occasionally shown a shortness of temper, an exasperation over the obvious lack of com­ munication blocking their path, it must be remembered that Dewey aud Russell have been engaged in the exchange of 1 ideas with one another for slightly over 40 years. If in that period of time one hasn’t converted the other, it is small wonder that they show signs of irritation. Still for all the critical and sometimes even hostile words that have passed between these two, there is a sympathetic respect for one another which indicate* that

their differences are not so large as to blind each to the other’s fine characteristics. Dewey has on occasion spoken in extreme complimentary terms of Russell’s

^In 1909 Russell reviewed Dewey’s Studies in Logical Theory, followed ten years later by a review of the Essays in Experimental Logic. 77 abilities. Referring to Russell*s Religion and Science. Dewey says, ”tiis lucidity and felicity of expression are ever tbe despair of lesser writers, and in this volume he has almo^ surpassed himself. And Russell in prefatoiry remarks to his consideration of Dewey in

the History of Western Philosophy paid compliment to him as "a man of the highest character, liberal in out­

look, generous and kind in personal relations, indefatig- O able in work." Russell has been the object of Dewey’s generosity and kindness in a very direct and personal

way. The occasion was the anullment of Russell’s contract at the College of the City of New York and the attendant

unpleasantness and persecution. Just as in the case of g the Trotsky investigation, so at this time Dewey joined in the effort of several educators to make the facts known and to expose the bigotry of those who forced Russell out of CCNY.^

Bertrand Russell’s appreciation of Dewey is not necessarily limited to these personal traits which en­

deared the latter to all who knew him. In what is probably

a fair and suggestive appraisal of pragmatism Russell acknowledges Dewey’s accomplishments in so far as he was

^PofM. p. 171. ^HWP, p. 819. '^Not Guilty ; Report of the Commission of Inquiry into the charges made against Leon Trotsky in the Moscow Trials, . J. Dewey, Chrm. /"SjÈîRr't .7^ The Bertrand Russell Case, by J. Dewey, et alia. 78 the reigning monarch in the shifting line of succession

from Peirce through James* In a reserved manner Russell gives his evaluation, of pragmatism thus:

Although pragmatism may not contain ultimate philosophical truth, it has certain important merits. First, it realizes that the truth that we can attain to is merely human truth, fallible and changeable like everything human....Truth is a property of beliefs, and beliefs are psychical events. Moreover their relation to facts does not have the schematic which logic assumes; to have pointed this out is a second merit of pragmatism* ^ This is an unusually impartial opinion of pragmatism

to find coming from the pen of Bertrand Russell. The usual comment is more on the following pattern: "But contempt for philosophy, if developed to the point at which it becomes systematic is itself a philosophy; it is a philosophy which, in America, is called *instru- .*" Sharp and unfair barbs like this are what give the general reader the impression that Dewey and

Russell are miles apart, with absolutely no use for one

another as men or as philosophers. While in most men

such a statement would signify absolute, irreconcilable opposition and hatred for the position so characterized, the tone of this thrust at Dewey is so characteristic of

^Sceptical Essays* n* 63* ^^popular Essays* ^Philosophy and Politics,” p. I; since Russell is not always careful in distinguishing pragmatism, , and Dewey’s views, we will not engage in the problem of establishing the lines of division, where the distinctions have little importance* 79 Russell*s cutlug sarcasm as to be no offense in itself.

The late Harold Chapman Brown was convinced tbat John Dewey and Bertrand Russell were not so much in com­ pletely contradictory positions, as that tbeir interests were different, thus causing an emphasis on different aspects of those areas in which th3y disagree. He says,

"Dewey*s emphasis comes from an interest in knowing as a part of the life processes of human beings, and Mr.

Russell*s from a desire to abstract from such processes. Such differences in interest are not contradictions in theory.If this is an accurate appraisal of the stiua- tion, then the task of analysis in this essay is somewhat lightened. Ours is the relatively simple task of ex­ hibiting theoretical relationships between two systems of thought on the- question at hand. Of course there is the possibility that their

^Brown, "A Logician in the Field of Psychology,” PBR. p. 459; this might be documented, though Brown does not, by the following passage from Russell*s IMT, pp. 167-8, not made in direct reference to Dewey, but certainly on him: ’^Writers who are interested in knowledge as a social phenomenon are apt to concentrate upon social epistemological premises. For certain purposes this is legitimate, for others not....^©ae philosopher is interested in the prior questions of the existence of other people and of the correctness of present belief about the pastj^ For me now, only my momentary epist­ emological premises are really premises; the rest must in some sense be inferred.... 80

differences in interest may be so intense or crucial that they actually become differences in theory. This was sug­

gested in a similar context to the present one by Prof. H. 0. Hullfish in commenting on Brown's statement. Said Dr. Hullfish: "Dewey surely has a legitimate interest in

abstraction (else no ideas to test would emerge). But such abstraction occurs within a process and affects its charac­ ter. Brown may be right, but a 'difference in interest' in relation to abstraction may prove to be a difference in theory.Another example would be Russell's interest in science as knovfledge when considered along with Dewey's con­ cern with science as technique or instrumentality. Their differences in interest here might well exhibit themselves as difference in theory. Likewise, if Russell is in­ terested in analyzing the minute and dealing with things in their simplest, most basic terms, this will give his philosophizing a different theorectical bent from Dewey's which is concerned with more macroscopic events - men, socie­ ties, cultures, and so on. It could be said that the raw material for Dewey's inquiries is the finished product of Russell's, or more accurately, that both starting from the common sense level of experience, Dewey builds upon it and

Russell analytically digs down under it. In the terms of Prof. Virgil Hinshaw's "The Empirically Given and the

^Seminar in the philosophy of J o ^ Dewey, The Ohio State University, Fall Quarter 1949, 81 P33.il o s ophically Given, tiiis v/ould be characterized tims. Dewey talc es the empirically given data and bnilds his theory of inquiry thereon, Russell on the other hand requires the philosophically given, or the post-analytic given, for an adequate picture of the nature of knowledge and reality. Strangely enough both men are empiricists, and neither would take a nâive realist’s view of the nature of . Yet Dewey starts with and ends v/ith the empirically given, proceeding in the direction of ever more widely inclusive wholes. Russell may start with the empiri­ cally given, but insists upon the breaking down of that which is presented in experience into its smallest atomic parts. Hov/ever, with all the above considerations, be they differences in interest or theory, Bertrand Russell can still write of Jolan Dewey’s views, "With most of his opin-

_ • 2 ions X am in almost complete agreement." For a man who has been writing for 57 years himself to make auch a statement about another author who first published 70 years ago, is quite an interesting incident. Y/e must assume either that Russell knows little of Dewey’s work, or that Russell is a liar, or tliat he is indulging in diplomatic reconaissance preparatory to declaring war. Quantitatively speaking the first charge could have been made against any person, withl- the possible exception of Dewey himself. The second alter-

^Read before the VVest^^vision of the American Philoso- pphical Association lÆay 8, 1952. EWP, p. 819. 82 native is repulsive to our imagination, and wb.ile tbe third possibility seems more likely, it would be unwise to

overlook another option; namely, that this is a fair and accurate appraisal of Russell*s agreement with the general aspects of John Dewey*s philosophic doctrines and convictions.

Vvhat evidence have we that the areas of agreement be­

tween these men outnumber their differences, and that lôussell’s estimation of this agreement is accurate? vVe might look first to the area of education, which is cer­

tainly the field in which Dewey has had the greatest influence. Russell has also worked in the field of educa­ tion, both in theory and in practice. Between the years of 1927 and 1952 Russell and his wife, Dora Black Russell, ran an experimental "laboratory" school at Beacon Sill, near Petersfield, England. Their principles were those of the latest theories of progressive education and modern psychology. The children were given as much positive direction of activity as they seemed to be ready for and need, but the limitations and prohibitions were reduced to an absolute minimum. Evidence of the latter comes in the story of one of the many persons shocked at the school, who complained that the children were being taught nudism, because they were allowed to strip down to as minimum amount of clothes as their young, un-spoiled minds 83 tiiought the occasion demanded*^

Russell*s venture into experimental education was not entirely a success, "by the way the world measures success, hut it did provide him first hand experience which he could not otherwise have had, except in the rearing of his own children. This gave his writings on

the problems of education and related areas a sense of

practicality, tested in the fire of experience. Of course his writings in the educational field are not limited to the narrow topic of pedagogy. His interest and knowledge of social philosophy, psychology, politics,

and religion combined to make the object of his educational

writings the whole man, the whole personality, rather than some abstract rational being or ideal man. The

first essay which clearly was on education to come from his pen bore the title "Education As A Political Institu­

tion. " This was followed by numerous s.rticles and two books on education, the most important being Education and

the Good Life, or Education, Especially in Early Childhood.

the English title. ^

^TShile he does not tell this particular ancedote, H. W. Leggett gives the same factual picture as this# See Leggett, Bertrand Russell. P.M.. p. 31. ‘^Dewey wrote a very sympathetic review of this book in New Republic, vol. 46, Iflay 19, 1926, p. 410. Hnless his commentr. on the similarity of Russell *s and Locke * s educational theories is taken as a disguised criticism, the whole review was quite favorable. 84 Tiiis work ranges In scope fron a discussion of aims and ttieory, through, primary and university educa­ tion. Prof. Eduard Lindeman says that "Ruseell's treat­ ment of such problems as fear, punishment, truth-telling:^

et cetera, conforms in general to the precepts known in this country under the title of progressive education.

A reading of any of his educational works will con­

vince the reader that Lindeman’s appraisal of Russell * s

educational leanings is correct. Bertrand Russell in referring to Dewey * s efforts in the education field, re­ marks, "I, in my lesser way, have tried to have an in- O fluence on education very similar to his." In a much lesser way, it is safe to say Russell has had such in­ fluence. Since it was not intended to attempt an ex­ tensive comparison point for point, but merely to suggest the range of agreement between the two philosophers, we may pass on the the next point. As each point is re­ viewed it also would be well to bear in mind we are more interested in lack of major disagreement and presence

of general agreement, then in claiming identity between Dewey*3 and Russell's views*

This obvious limitation on our task is even more present when a comparison of social and political philoso­ phies is attenpted. At best we can but indicate areas of agreement. Even though Russell is a member of the

^Lindeman, "Russell's Concise Social Philosophy," _PBR. p. 571. HWP. p. 819. 85 nobility, th.e 3rd Earl Russel], and of' a istocratic stock, while Dewey was a Vermont farm boy who grew up in the post-Civil War days in the American Dream, there is not the divergence one m i ^ t expect in their social philosophies. It would be safe to say that both hold strongly to democracy as the best form of political life. Their writings point out different errors and evils of democracy, as well as different problems which a modern democracy must face. Yet this does not detract from the interest of their political philosophy in establishing democracy upon a firm foundation in the middle of the twentieth century. Russell does not feel that democracy, "as it exists in large modern States,..,/givesÿ^ adequate scope for political initia­ tive except to a tiny minority.This is essentially a problem of governmental machinery for controling mass movements and communication within democratic govern­ ments which are ever having to stretch farther afield to cover the rapidly expanding population and its ever in­ creasing problems. These problems are especially diffi­ cult to handle by mass methods without contradicting the very causa essend! of democracy. Thus centralization of control with its accompanying authoritarian tendencies is the evil which Russell most fears will be the end of democracy. He has been prophesying the encroaching evils

^A&I, p. 75. 86 of industrialization, centralization, and authoritarianism for many years now. In his latest hook devoted to the problem he repeats :

So long as democratic control is remote and rare, while public administration is centralized and authority is delegated from the centre to the circumference, this sense of individual impotence before the powers that be is diffi­ cult to avoid. And yet it must be avoided if democracy is to be a reality in feeling and not merely in governmental machinery.^

Russell blames the weakness of democracy in general and of our present civilization in particular, so far as it is democratically directed, upon the failure to main­ tain a spirit of individual worthwhileness and integrity along with democratic, mass forms of government.2 The

good society for Russell would embody the social values of health and happiness, scientific knowledge and educa­ tion, love® for o n e ’s fellow men and zest for life in general, and all this in the framework of democratic- socialism. Russell concludes his essay "Philosophy and

Politics," by saying that "in our day as in the time of Locke, empiricist Liberalism (which is not incompatible

ÏA&ü. p. 77. Ibid.. p. 59. ®Vi?hat I Believe, p. 20. Russell defines love as a combina­ tion of delight in presence of people and well-wishing for their fortunes. 87 with, democratic socialism) is the only philosophy that can he adopted hy a man who, on the one hand, demands some scientific evidence for his beliefs, and, on the other hand, desires human happiness more than the pre­ valence of this or that party or creed*

It does not require any extended argument to establish that Dewey is also ardently committed to democracy, but it is well to note that there are some matters regard­ ing democratic organization and values on which he would not be in complete accord with Russell. Yet on one im­ portant aspect, namely that democracy and open, free intellectual and scientific pursuits go hand in hand, there is quite an area of agreement between the two social philosophers. Science or scientific knowledge, human happiness, and l.ove fcre the guide posts in Russell*s social philosophy. In essentially the same spirit, if not words, Dewey states:

The foundation of democracy is faith in the capacities of human nature; faith in human intelligence and in the power of pooled and co-operative experience. It is not belief that these things are complete but that, if given a show, they will grow and be able to generate progressively the knowledge and g wisdom needed to guide collective action. Regarding Russell*s respect for and concern over the position of the individual in a democracy, Dewey has called democracy "aristocracy carried to its limit,"

'Unpopular Essays, p. 20. gPof M. p. 59. " 88 the "claim that every human being as an individual may be the best for some particular purpose and hence be most fitted to rule, to lead, in that specific respect.Also in the past Dewey's personal concern that through education and legislation every individual person be able to partici­

pate actively and to the fullest ^f h.us o ' pa d cies in the life of our democracy attests his essential agreement with

Hussell over the importance of the individual in a democracy. In the same context as the above quotation from "Democracy and Educational Administration" in Problems of Men, Dewey staues that "The keynote of democracy as a way of life may be expressed...as the necessity for the participation of every mature human being in formation of the values that regulate the living of men together: which is necessary from the standpoint of both the general social welfare and the full development of human beings as individuals." Dewey * s position does non stress quite the same diffi­ culty of democracy Russell*s does, namely that of providing within the framework of a modern democracy adequate range for individual growth and contribution to society. Yet he is well aware that the increased technological means of communication and transportation, which should be used to facilitate the p^^cess of individual participation in the whole, have all to»often been used in the exact opposite manner. Russell is no more alarmed than Dewey

^Character and Events, p. 489. 89 by the problem of mass means of communeiation swallowing up the little man and making his possible contribution to the democratic society impotent. "The very agencies /press, radio, books, etc_^ that a century and a half ago were looked upon those that were sure to advance the cause of democratic freedom, are those which now make it possible to create pseudo-public opinion and to undermine democracy from within. If this passage were not identified for the reader, he might well think it came from Bertrand Russell*s series in the New York Times Magazine dealing with mob psychology and propaganda agencies as the most powerful tool in controlling the 2 modern state. Vvhile Russell is inclined to t ake a somewhat exter­ nal view of democracy in terms of the type of political organization which generally characterizes it, Dewey * s democracy encompasses and embraces every aspect of societal life. Democracy as creative intelligence iu action per­ vades the cognitive, affective, emotive and evaluative phases of human existence in an integral and cooperative manner. There is still too much of the 19th century

British liberal in Russell for him to give himself so

^^Tk-eedom and Culture, p. 148. *^ew York Times Magazines, various essays during 1950, appearing M a ^ 19% June 11, Sept. 3, Oct. 29, and Dec. 31, and Jan. 21, 1951. The particular essay "The Science to Save Us from Science," Mar. 19, is the one referred to. 90 wholeheartedly to democracy, for there is the problem of democracy leveling all men, suppressing the individual’s freedoms in favor of the group, and breeding a type of

mediocrity in cultuial affairs. He states his views thus :

For my part I retain the tastes and prejudices of an old-fashioned liberal. I like democracy. JL like individual liberty, and I like culture. I do not like to see ignorant or despotic officials interfering needlessly with private lives; I do not like to see creative thought crushed by the tyranny of stupid majorities. I do not like persecution, whether by major­ ities or of minorities. I am suspicious of government and distrustful of politicians; but insofar as there must be government I prefer jt should be democratic.^ This is not a very enthusiastic endorsement of democracy,

to be sure, but when it is remembered that jTor :: .1; Bussell ;trhe''bnly' alternative would be a utopian anarchy, this is sQptually an endorsement of democratic govern­ ment.

Dewey does not have the fear of losing the individual

velues of British liberalism in the tangleS' of democracy, in fact he feels that the only manner in which one can

be certain of preserving these values*^through cooperative, collective political and social activity. In an essay

on "Liberty and Social Control," he says, "The only hope for liberalism is to surrender, in theory and practice, the doctrine that liberty is a full-fledged ready-made

^"Citizenship in a Great State," p. 185< 9 1

possession of individuals independent of social institu­ tions and arrangements, and to realize tb.at social con­

trol ..«is necessary in order to render secure tb.e liberties of th.e individual*”^ None tbe less, Dewey does share Russell*s concern lest the mechanism of government snuff out the free expression and contribution from the ordin­ ary run-of-the-masses individual. On this point Dewey

expressed himself by say^ing:

No government by experts in which the masses do not have the chance to inform the experts as to their needs can be anything but an oligarchy managed in the interests of the few. And the enlightenment must proceed in ways which force the administrative specialists to take account of the needs. The world has suffered more from leaders and authorities than from the masses*2

While Dewey' and Russell may differ on particular points as to how democracy can best function, they are » unqualifiedly agreed when it comes to opposing non- democratic forms of government, as fascism, imaglsm, and

Stalinism (communism)* They look at democracy as ' the means of preventing government from becoming tyrannical and oppressive, and they would both point to the violence and brutality which inevitably results from non-demo era tic forms of the State. Amidst the turmoil of war and inter­ national conflict they maintained a firm faith in demo­ cratic institutions and democratic values * During the dark days of 1937 Russell said, , ”I do not believe that

~PofM* p* 121* 2The Public and Its Problems, p* 208* 92 ‘political democracy is on th.e wane. * Tiiere is nothing new about the present anti-democratic movements....”^

The democratic world had weathered kings and emperors and usurpers of the peoples* power before, and within the decade following Russell*s writing the above, three more dictators fell from power. There will always be others to challenge democracy, but as Dewey wrote in

1940, the spirit of democracy is too strong to be blotted out by force of arms and the shedding of blood.

If the growth of the free mind to fullness of stature and social recognition was to have been prevented, it should have been strangled at birth. It is now too late. Hostile influences may and will deflect and retard its progress. Individuals will be annoyed and suffer harm. But the spirit of thoughfcand inquiry will never be beaten by weapons of flesh and blood.2

In noticing" another area of social philosophy where John Dewey and Bertrand Russell find a measure of common ground let the reader recall that Russell*s stand for

ênç)iricist liberalism was stated as being entirely con­ sistent with democratic socialism. He italicized the modifying adjective *democratic* for reasons obvious to us in view of his defense of democracy and opposition to totalitarianism. Yet he still adheres to an economic philosophy of socialism with its necessary controls. He

"The Future of Democracy," p. 381. education Today, p. 197. 93 does not fear the control of onr physical resources as

long as this does not mean a limitation upon men*s minds and spirits. Since for him the physical resources are actually less important and only valuable as they con­ tribute to the human goods of love, happiness, and knowledge. On this point Russell and Dewey are in very close agreement, although Russell is more cautious of controls than Dewey, for reasons previously explained.

Yet v/hen it comes to their rejection of the contemporary examples of the socialist society, with the exception of

England (which is literally a very recent development), they are at one accord. Totalitarianism is too great a price to pay for the socialist society. If the English people can make their socialist experi<^ment work without undue restriction of individual liberties, this will be a favorable historical example for the advocates of socialism. However, in the past socialization has been accompanied by dictatorship, to which both men are cate­ gorically opposed. Russell observes about himself and Dewey that they have both devoted a great share of their time and energies to social and political questions. Further they both underwent a similar experience of dis­ illusionment with the Soviet experiment, after the first blush of enthusiasm. "Dike myself," Russell says, "he was much influenced by visits to Russia and China,

1 How To Be Free and Happy, p. 41. 94 negatively in the first case, positively in the second* That which revolted hoth men with Russia was the talk of a classless democratic society amid privation, torture, and the cruelest suppression of the people, China- that

is of course pre-revolutionary China- impressed them with its serenity and placidity amid the chaos and con­ fusion of the Western technological revolution* Today

China would but bear out the previous disillusionment with the communist dream, Russell comments on their re­ jection of communism in all its varieties, "I heard

/Dewey/^ say onee that, having emancipated himself with some difficulty fromi the traditional orthodox theology, he was not going to shackle himself with another. ^n all this his point of view is almost identical with my 2 own*" The practical rejection of Communism accompanies, and was probably partly precipitated by their rejection of its philosophic underpinnings. From the very abstract

Hegelian Absolute through the concrete doctrine of economic determinism, Dewey and Russell concur in their rejj^tion*^

It is not necessary to document in detail so obvious a point as that both reject communism as placing first Z 4 emphasis upon revolution, rather than peaceful evolution^

-HWP. p* 820* |Tbrd. p* 821 on the former. Freedom vs* Organization, pp. 190-1, A&I,p* 43, and The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy* .p* 72, Character and Events* p, 155, on the latter* PofM. pp* 78-9; RusselPs. In Praise of Idleness* pp*128-9* 95 Both reject the thought that the democratic classless society can he brought about by other than peaceful political, educational, and democratic means. Dewey says;

To profess democracy as an ultimate ideal and the suppression of democracy as a means to the ideal may be possible in a country that has never known even rudimentary demo­ cracy, but when professed in a country that has anything of a genuine democratic spirit in its traditions, it signifies desire for possession and retention of power by a class, whether that class be called Fascist or Proletarian.

This has been far from a complete summary of each 2 man's social philosophy. It has, however, indicated the wide areas of general agreement between John Dewey and Bertrand Russell on points of social and political philosophy. The differences have been minimized, ad­ mittedly, for they are not such as would account for the principal disagreement we are interested in, namely^ why these two philosophers are opposed to one another over the possibility of a science of ethics. Each point of general agreement between them narrows the range wherein may lie the key to their disagreement over a science of ethics, the key is certainly not their

^Dewey, Liberalism and Social Action, p. 86; of* Russell, In Praise of Idleness, p. 127. 2An investigation of Russell's social philosophy in a more thorou^ manner may be found in The Ascendancy of the Ethical in Bertrand Russell's Social Philosophy, M.A. thesis. The Ohio State University, 1949, by the present writer. 96 social philosophies. Dewey expresses th.e essential "blend

and harmony of their views, although not speaking speci­ fically of such, when he states;

The democratic method of social change is slow; it labors under many and serious handicaps irposed by the undemocratic character of what passes for democracy. But it is the method of liberalism, with its belief that liberty is the means as well as the goal and that only through the development of individuals in their voluntary cooperation with one another can the development of in^viduality be made secure and enduring*^ In Russell *s social philosophy we noticed the emphasis upon empiricist liberalism, on the one hand, and providing for free range of the human mind in the pursuit of scienti­ fic knowledge, on the other. This is another point of general agreement between Dewey and Russell, specifically the engihasis upon in theory of knowledge and

science in the attainment of both knowledge and control in our everyday world. If we limit the range of this agree­ ment to one of common respect and interest in science, as

well as common dependence upon experience as the only re­ liable means of knowledge of the world about us, the similarity between the two men*s views is striking. If one or the other took his stand with rational intuitionism as the way of knowledge and put his faith in religious

tradition rather than science, it would be no wonder that they could not see eye to eye on the problem of an

^PofM. p. 133. 97 empirical science of valuation* Yet,w]aile there are points of difference within their respective empirical theories of knowledge, no such obvious divergence as

intuitionism versus empiricism is present in their views. Both Dewey and Russell claim to be in the stream

of empiricism as the proper basis for a theory of know­ ledge, Russell admits tlmt there are serious limitations

on enroiricism, particularly that absolute empiricism is untenable due to the necessity for some non-empirical rules of Inference or principles of connection between empirically observed events.^ He says, "it must be ad­ mitted / t h a ^ empiricism as a theory of knowledge has proved inadequate, though less so than any previous theory 2 of knowledge." Indeed, he goes on to explain, those in­ adequacies which have come up in empiricism were discover­ ed by strictly following out one of its very own concepts,

one which has chiefly inspired empiricist philosophers.

That is the doctrine that "all human knowledge is un­ certain, inexact, and partial."

Russell*s position may be called that of logical analysis of of logical empiricism. It places a great deal of importance upon the forms in which our knowledge is expressed, but it takes its stand with Locke, Berkeley, and Hume that all knowledge of the W 02Ü is derived from

1 _IMP. p. 207, H WP. p. 674. p. 507. 98 sensation and impression. Russell says of his position: "Its meth.ods.. .resemble tiiose of science. I have no doubt

that, in so far as philosophical knowledge is possible, it is by such methods that it must be sought; I have also no doubt that, by these methods, many ancient pro­

blems are conQjletely soluble. Russell^s disagreements with Dewey over theory of knowledge are not those of an empiricist against a non­ empiricist. Rather it is that Russell feels that Dewey leans too far toward the untenable position of absolute 2 empiricism, while not giving adequate attention to the non-empirical factors in knowledge. Dewey holds that knowledge of nature emanates from immediate experience. Hef: claims the only alternative to this position is

"that in addition to experience as a source and test of beliefs, we possess some miraculous power of intuitive insight...,”® which, of course, he is not willing to

grant to mankind. In discussing the relation of perception to empir­

ical knowledge in Dewey’s position, Russell affirms several points of agreement.

p. 834. Dewey • s New Logic. ” PJD, p. 140. Substance is given to Russell’s belief that Dewey is an absolute empiricist by Dewey’s characterization of his own view as heing a thoroughgoing empiricism, in "Reply," PJD. p. 573. ®"Reply," PJD. p. 543. 99 When it is said / p e w e ^ that sens e-data have no ohjactive existential reference, what is meant, no doubt, is that sensation is not a relational occurrence in which a subj ect cog­ nizes something. To this I should entirely assent. Again we are told that there are tür'ee common errors to be avoided: (1) that the common-sense world is perceptual; (2) that perception is a mode of cognition; (3) that what is perceived is cognitive in status. Here, again. I ag:ree,^

It is not claimed that these are sufficiently important agreements to constitute anything like a complete merger of the two men*s views, but they are symptomatic of a general agreement on empiricism as a theory of knowledge. In view of the extensive examination previously given, of each man*s respective conception of science, it is only necessary to note here their mutual respect for and adherence to science as a guide in philosophy. 2 We noticed that Russell claims the methods of his posi­ tion are those of science. He has put himself strongly on the side of science by such statements as: ”I cannot admit any method of arriving at truth except that of science,,..** A similar, and equally well-known state­ ment from the same work is : "Whatever knowledge is at­ tainable, must be attained by scientific methods; and what science cannot discover, mankind cannot know. **^

^"Dewey*8 Hew L o g i c P J D , p. 140; italics not in original; note particular implications of the first point of agree- gment for an empirical science of ethics. _Above. p. 98. %&8. p. 197. ^ b i d .. p. 255. 100

TOaile Dewey stands firmly for th.e extension of scientific techniques and methods into as many and diverse regions of man* s life as it is possible,^ h.e is decidely against m & ing a new Absolute or Deity out of science. This comes out in a comment actually made within the context of political philosophy, when he says: "Literary persons have been chiefly the ones in this country who have fallen for Marxist theory, since they are the ones who, having the least amount of scienti­ fic attitude, swallow most readily the notion that 'science* is a new kind of infallibility. T h i s false notion of science as the new Absolute to which man must give his 100^ allegiance is found mainly in the un-scientific minds which do not distinguish between science as technique and the scientific attitude or temper. Those who see science only as technique, as a shiny gadget to increase the rate of achieving the things they want, embrace science with the same blind passion that characterizes fundamental­ ist ic religion*s anti-scientific tendency. This is basically

^*reedom and Culture, p. 96; italics not in original. ^ ~ Says he in Logic, p. 535, "Since scientific methods simply exhibit free intelligence operating in the best manner available at a given time, the cultural waste, confusion, and distortion that result from the failure to use these methods, in all fields in connection with all problems, is incalculable." ^Dewey expressed agreement with this necessary dis­ tinction which Russell made in Religion and Science. chapter 1, and Scientific Outlook, introduction. S^ee PofM. p. 172. ; 101 against the scientific attitude and. is entirely alien to the manner in which Dewey and Russell regard science. Being philosophers more connected with the speculative

side of science than the practical, they more nearly personify scientific attitude in their writings, than the worship of technique.

Neither Dewey nor Russell had much experience as practicing scientists. Ernest Nagel says of Dewey that "he writes about science like a philosopher, whose under­ standing of it, however informed, is derived from second­ hand sources.That this is essentially correct Dewey

would not have disputed, though he might not have admitted it to be a very severe limitation on his work in . Russell classifies himself clearly as one who has not had much laboratory experience as a scientist and

one whose interests in science have run by-and-large at a very theoretical and abstract level. Says he of his life's

calling in philosophy and mathematics rather than a career

as- scientist, "it turned out that, while not without apti­

tude for pure mathematics, I was con^letely destitife of. the concrete kinds of skill which are necessary in science. Moreover, within mathematics it was the most abstract parts which I understood best: I had no difficulty with ellip­ tic functions, but could never succeed in mastering op­ tics. Science was therefore closed to me as a

agel, "Pure Science and Gross Experience," p. 22. 102 career*”^ Yet both. Dewey and Russell have been convinced de­ fenders of the important role which science has to play in our modern world. Dewey lists as his number one and number two problems throughout his long philosophic life the following; (l) "the relation that exists between the beliefs about the nature of things due to natural

science to beliefs about values" and (2) the problem of the relation of physical science to the things of 2 ordinary experience." It would be no stretching of the case to say that the second problem has also been one of Russell’s major concerns. With a little stretch­ ing, and with no prejudice as to what that relationship must be, we could say that Dewey’s first concern has likewise been a pressing problem with Russell. The centrality of science in these problems is evident, and science has provided a focal point in both men’s positions.

Selected Papers of Bertrand Russell, pp. ix-x. In this respect Russell reminds us somewhat of Socrates when he said of himself, "When I was young,.. .1 had a prodigious desire to know that department of philosophy which is called the investigation of nature; /^fter repeated trials in suc^^ at last I concluded myself to be utterly and absolutely incapable of these inquiries. ... "(Phaedo 96 C). Thus all Socrates was suited for and able to do was ^philosophizing. Reply,™ PJD. p* 523; Dewey quotes these phrases from his own Quest for Certainty, pp. 256 and 252, respectively. 103 Particularly ha# this been evident in their respective philosophies of religion. Dewey * s philosophy of religion seems to have much in common with Russell*s. Both assert the religious value of the free spirit and the free in­

tellect as opposed to authoritarianism, suppression, and tradition. The two men also agree in holding non-super- nat'n?al concepts of religion.^ In expressing his general

agreement with Russell*s Religion and Science, Dewey feels bound to state his definite disagreement with the author on the issue of science and ethics. However, he says, "My divergencies do not concern the conclusion^^__/^reached as far as they bear upon the traditional conceptions of religion. Thus, though it seems hardly necessary to say so, Russell*g and Dewey * s differences over the science of ethics do not* stem from religious disagreements. A difference in their respective human psychologies would readily account for the difference of view we are interested in. Bat there is no major disagreement that would seem to esgplain the case. Both consider the human mind to be a product of man*s biological make-up. The mind and personality are products of the environmental forces which act upon the individual. If the action of

The reference here is to present-day Russell, not to 1912, when his belief in anything "super-natural? was, to say the least, a matter of debate. Today he says, "I have no * ideas of deity or the supernatural.*" g("8in," p. 12). PofM. p. 176. 104 the en'vix'onraent is controlled in the proper manner, the result is s, well "balanced, well integrated personality,

capable of making his contribution to society through a healthy, normal life. The key to such psychological development is the process of growth, which is central in both Dewey and Russell. Russell devotes a whole chapter to the principle of growth in his book V'vhy Men Fight. The opportunity for or stunting of growth may in itself determine whether men live harmoniously and peacefully, or in a state of conflict and war. Justus Buchler comments upon the importance of the principle of growth in Russell's ethics in this manner:

The impulses and desires of men, "in so far as they are of real importance in their lives, " are connected and unified by "a central principle of growth and instinc­ tive urgency leading them in a certain direction, as trees seek the light." The fundamental moral need of ^&an is that this movement be allowed to develop. Whatever impediments or misfortunes confront him, he remains a free and potentially full man so long as there,is no "interference with natural growth." The emphasis upon "natural growth" is certainly much stronger in Russell than in Dewey's position where the process of growth needs more cultivation and care. Yet this care should not assume the form of setting any fixed bounds or goals for growth, beyond that which is necessary to assure further growth.2 However,these differences

1 Buchler, "Russell and the Principles of Ethics," PBR.p.527; pBuchler quotes from Russell’s "Why Men Fight, ch. 1. RIP, pp. 146-7. 105 in psych-ological views are not such, as to cause the sharp split on the issue of an empirical science of valuation, as if one believed, in an independently ex­ isting psyche which did not derive its causa es send! as

well as causa cognoscendl from bodily activity. And since in our previous analysis of Dewey and Russell in chapters 2 and 3 it was seen that both locate the origin of value in human desire, interest, appeti- tion, and so forth, with accompanying similar qualifica­ tions, the answer to the query vdiich started out this long excursion of comparison does not lie simply in the fact that they have different basic concepts of the nature of value.Dewey and Russell have similar conceptions of the nature of desire, so when we say they both have desire- satisfaction theories of value, this is not merely a verbal agreement. For Dewey desire "is the forward urge of living creatures. When the push and drive of life meets no obstacle there is nothing which we call desire.... /^esire/^ is activity surging forward to break through what dams it up.Russell distinguishes explicit desire, which is always of some particular object, from "the primitive condition out of which explicit desire is evolved. " Says he, "We have a state of affairs which may be said to 2 involve discomfort," and this state causes explicit de­ sire. Actually desire is the result of drives and impulses, iHuman Nature and Conduct, p. 249. SRhilosophy. p. 222. 106 and tiiese are quite aimless until learning sets in.• ^nly experience, memory and association - so I should

say - confer objects upon de ire, which are initially blind tendencies to certain kinds of activity. Now,

from Russell* s assertion that the absence of human beings with desires would mean the absence of value and that ’value* means * satisfaction of desire,* we can derive no conflict over the basic existential nature of value with Dewey’s "There is no value except where there is satisfaction, but there have to be certain conditions fulfilled to transform a satisfaction into a value,” and ”I hold that enjoyments, objects of desires as they arise, are not values, but are problematic material for con- 2 struction - for creation if you will - of values.”

Yet when it-comes to problems of applying fundamen­ tal value categories in actual, empirical stiuations,

the two philosophers develop widely divergent views on

the possibility of a science of ethics. Obviously then there must be some factors of disagreement not found in the aspects of their philosophies as previously consider­ ed, which inject themselves between the desire theory of value and the ethical nositions of each.

ig p. 7^0, from The Quest for Certainty and "Reply,” PJD, p. 583. 107 Chapter 5. Russell*3 Criticism of DeweyEplatemology as the Source of Their Disagreement Concern­

ing a Science of Ethics.

It is often quite difficult to tell whether Russell is criticising Dewey, or pragmatism-instrumentalism, or James, or the American capitalistic, practical—minded

society. There is a persistent tendency to identify these positions, different though they certainly are. Dewey had occasion in his "Reply" in the Library of Living Philosopher's volume to recall his view of Russell's ten­ dency to lump pragmatism and American industrialism under the same heading Dewey says:

When, in 1922, Russeljÿ' said that he found the *^ove of truth obscured in America by commercialism of which pragmatism is the philosophical expression,” I remarked that the statement seemed to me to be "of that order of interpretation which would say that Lnglish neo-realism is a reflection of the snobbish aristocracy of the English and the tendency of French thought to dualism an ex­ pression of an alleged Gallic disposition to keep a mistress in addition to a wife." And I still believe that Mr. Russell's confirmed habit of connecting pragmatic theory of know­ ing with obnoxious aspects of American industrial­ ism, instead of with the experimental method of attaining knowledge, is much as if I were to link his philosophy to the interests of English landed aristocracy instead of with dominant interest in mathematics.^

^"Reply," PJD. pp.527-528; Dewey quotes from his Characters and Events, p. 543. 108 Nevertheless Russell's line of criticism of Dewey persist«iwh.en in 1929 he characterized pragmatism as muddling up the practical and the theoretical, incor­ porating in each too much of the other. Pragmatism muddles up the practical and philosophical in a way I don't like; I am an admirer of certain passions, but I don't admire a philosophy made up, like pragmatism, of un­ duly practical theory and unduly theoretical practice. They say you can know whether a belief will be useful in its effects, that its effects will be good; and then they make a combination of the theoretical and the practi­ cal, by saying that in that case the belief is 'true'... .You can't arrive at whether the effects of a belief are useful or not as easily as at ^ the scientific truth or falsehood of the belief. This serves as an indication that Dewey's position is not always treated by Russell merely on its own merits, but usually must, defend itself against all the implica- 2 tions Russell seems to see in it. % e t h e r these im­ plications are justified or not, they are often the sub­ stance of Russell's criticism and must be considered for whatever light they throw upon the source of disagreement between the two men's ethical positions.

For one thing, Russell considers Dewey's philosophy to be unduly practicalistic, as expressed in the above opinion. He is referring to the stand of pragmatism that the consequences of a belief are the test of its truth. g "Three Ways to the World," pp. 17-18. Thus in discussing Dewey on one occasion Russell characteristically said, "All this is'not what Dr. Dewey means; but if it is.not to follow from what he says,...#" (Dewey's New Logic. " PJD. p. 148). 109 On tills point Dewey says he is afraid all he has written to the effect that "praginatism affirms that action is involved in Imowledge. not that knowledge is subordinated to action or *practice,* has gone for naught.He says

he cannot feel his strictures about the need for experi­ mental method have been taken seriously. "The outcome of the operations that are guided by a hypothesis is the only context in which consequences in my theory have any­ thing to do Y'ith truth. None the less, due to the re­ jection of an objective criterion of external facts by which to judge truth, pragmatism, according to Russell,

holds that "opinions are merely weapons in the struggle for existence, and those which help ajcaBn to survive are to be called *trueINot only is this tendency of prag­ matism rejected because it is faulty, but it leads to a power philosophy ?hich is repugnant to Russell's philoso­ phic ideal. The fault of this view is its fundamentally irrational disregard for the order of objective fact.

There are facts which determine whether or not beliefs are true, and the denial of such can only be explained as a desire "to assert something for which there is no evi­ dence, or to deny something for which there is very good 4 evidence."

^"Reply," PJD, p. 528. gibid. .Sceptical Essays, p. 48. % i d .. p. 49. 110

This is the expression of a power philosophy, a philosophy which says that ability to change the facts

is more important than ability to know the facts. Russell, in making this criticism of Dewey and pragmatism, likes to refer to Marx*s Eleven Theses on Feuerbach, where Itarx says ;

The chief defe^ct of all previous mater­ ialism- including that of Feuerbach- is that the object (Gegenstand), the reality, sensi­ bility, is only apprehended under the form of the object (Objekt) or of contemplation (Ans- chauung), but not as human sensible activity or practice, not subjectively. Hence it came about that the active side was developed by idealism in opposition to materialism.... The question whether objective truth be­ longs to human thinking is not a question of theory, but a practical question. The truth, i.e. the reality and power, of t h o u ^ t must be demonstrated in practice. The contest as to the reality or nonreality of a thought which is isolated from practice, is a purely scholastic question..;. Philosophers have only interpreted the world in various v/ays, but the real task is to alter it.l

Russell comments following these passages: "The philoso­ phy advocated in the earlier part of these theses is that which has since become familiar to the philosophical world through the writings of Dr. Dewey, under the name of pragmatism or instrumentalism." Russell is kind enough not to attempt to brand Dewey as an active revolutionary, and as seen in considering the two philosophers* social views, they are equally opposed to the revolutionary

Quoted in Freedom vs. Organization. 1814-1914. pp. 191-2. Ill effects of Marx’s v/ritings. Yet lie is convinced that Dewey’s position amounts to essentially tiie same power philosophy as that advocated by Marx in the above passage.

Russell is charitable enough to admit that Dewey has not knowingly formulated a power philosophy, but it is Russell’s insistence that once there is given up any

claim to objective facts, independent of the conditions

of investigation and outside the reach of man’s tampering, the only basis for settling a dispute is passion and power. Thus he says in another writing, "Pragmatism, in some of its forms, is a power-philosophy. For prag­ matism, a belief is ’true’ if its consequences are pleas­ ant. Now human beings can make the consequences of a belief pleasant or unpleasant." This view accordingly places a practically unlimited omnipotence in the hands of those who have the power to make consequences pleah’sant or unpleasant for the citizenry. Russell doesnot say that the pragmatists admit these results of their view. He only claims "that they are the consequences, and that the pragmatist’s attack on the common view of truth is an outcome of love of power, though perhaps more of power over inanimate nature than of power over other human beings.

However, for Russell, power over inanimate nature is best attained by determining the factual status of the natural

^Power. p. 268. 2lbld. 112 environment and adjusting the condition of man accord­ ingly, or by interposing other factual conditions to counter-balance those of the environment. In no case is what men desire as satisfactory consequences relevant to the truth of the outcome of an investigation.

The tendency of Dewey * s position, as seen by -Russell,

to rob inquiry of a terminus ad quern is most severely criticised when ethical inquiry is specifically considered. Russell sees Dewey*s theory of valuation as being so concerned with the "on-going process," "the continuum of ends-means,” that Dewey never arrives at the attain­ ment of valuable ends. The chief emphasis in Dewey is on the conditions, antecedents, and means of achieving value. In order that the ends-means continuum will not be broken, every end-value .must be considered as a means for the realization of further value. Though not mentioning Dewey’s position by name, Russell says of this general tendency, "There is a danger.. .lest means should be mis­ taken for ends, with the result that ends are forgotten.

If reverence or respect for ends is forgotten, then the same thing happens as when relevance to facts is dis­ regarded in scientific inquiry. Those men who have the power will in^ose their own desires over the desires and interests of others, because means take precedence over ends. And if one who does not have the power of means object%^s, his obvious impotence, rules him out of court.

^A&I, p. 78. 113 This is usToalQLy expressed by the condemnation of a prof- ferred value in the phrase "it isn't practical." If a proposed value has no immediate means in its power to actualize itself, this counts against it from the beginning whenever means dominate over ends.

Says Russell, "Morality is so m%ch concerned with means that it seems almost immoral to consider anything

solely in relation to its intrinsic worth. But obviously nothing has any value as a means unless that to which it is a means has value on its own account. It follows that intrinsic value is logicalTly prior to value as means. Yet intrinsic value signifies the stopping point of the continuum of valuational inquiry, and since the process must be on-going, there can be no stopping points and no intrinsic values. This may be an unfair appraisal of Dewey's position, but Russell has ample basis for seeing Dewey in these terms. While Russell may never have cited the following to support his criticism, he might well have. Dewey says, "If it is better to travel than to arrive, it

is because traveling is a constant arriving, while ar­ rival that precludes further traveling is most easily attained by going to sleep or dying.

When Russell speaks of over preoccupation with means he contrasts such with ultimate ends in a satirical criti­

cism of what the emphasis upon means results in.

p. 2. ^ u m a n Nature and Conduct, p. 282. 114 If you are a purchaser of tractors, you are almost equally removed from ultimate ends. /^^s equally removed as the manufacturer^^ The tractors are to be used to produce food to enable men to work in producing food to enable men to work...and soon in an endless chain, in which the intrusion of any consider­ ation of what is good on its own account would be felu by every sound economist or adminis­ trator to be a frivolous irrelevance.1

Russell sees this tendency, if it goes to an extreme, as depriving life of its joys such that it becomes "drab and dreary; in the end the need for excitement finds a worse outlet than it would otherwise have done, in war or cruelty or intrigue or some other destructive activity.Or in a more expanded form the thought is expressed: If human life is not to become dusty and uninteresting, it is important to realize that there are things that have a value which is quite independent of utility. What is useful is useful because it is a means to something else, and the something else, if it is not in turn merely a means, must be valued for its own sake, for otherwise the usefulness is illusory.® In defense of his opposition to ultimate values Dewey explains his objection to them on the basis that they are usually taken out of all temporal context. Such makes ultimate values absolute ends-in-themselves, rather than ends-in-relationship. This tendency is at the root of those ethical positions which deny realization of value to those who are not possessed of special powers of intuition,

p. 4. gIbid.. p. 3. p. 113. 115

insight, or reason- Further the holding up of ultimate values as absolute ends-in-themselves cuts off value

from the continuum of experience which is the source of all value. This denies the continuity of value with man^s common experience- Such sharp demarcation is the justification for class distinctions of priest and laity and of aristocrat and commoner. All this is in direct opposition to Dewey * s total philosophy- He is quite ready to admit that "a thing may be ultimate in the sense of

coming last in a given temporal series, so that ir is ultimate for that series- There are things that come last in reflective valuations and, as terminal, they are ul­

timate- However, this type of ultimate value clearly has a temporal coefficient such that there is no danger of it tyrannizing men, rather than directing them in their value inquiries-

In all fairness, Dewey cannot, of course, be blamed for all the "consequences" Russell sees in his theory, even if it were granted that they do follow as charged-

Not all the criticisms referred to above were directed specifically at Dewey and pragmatism, but in as much as Russell does tend to identify them with modem capitalistic

industrialism, the denunciation of the latter reflects his attitude regarding the former- As a justification in part of Russell’s criticism, we .might si^t A- C- Garnett,

^"Reply," PJD. p. 594. 116

a person certainly friendly and fairly disposed toward Dewey. Prof. Garnett says that Dewey and his followers generally agree "that what is intrinsically valuable in life is activity that is positive in form and quality- enjoyable, free, creative activity, integrated and har­ monious within the self, integrated with and contributing to similar activity in the lives of those whom it touches. "

This aspect of value is not neglected nor disregarded by Dewey. He holds it in as high esteem as any liberal philosopher. "But," continues Prof. Garnett, "it is taken

for granted by the Instrumentalists and not given due place in their theory."^

However, it is not sufficient in Russell’s opinion to let such be taken for granted. He does not find the proper emphasis' in Dewey’s theorie^f inquiry and valuation

upon facts and values antecedent to inquiry, and he finds the terms of inquiry substituted for ’facts, ’ ’truth, ’ and 'knowledge. ’ So it is that when Russell said, as previously mentioned, "with most of^Dewey’s/^ opinions I am in almost

coagjlete agreement....." he felt forced to add, "I should wish to agree completely, but to my regret I am compelled to dissent from his most distinctive doctrine, namely

the substitution of ’Inquiry’ for ’ truth’ as the fundamen- O tal concept of logic and theory of knowledge." Garnett, ^Criticism," p. 316. p. 819. 117 Here lies tlae root of their disagreement. Since Russell’s charges against Dewey which were just considered center around the question of fact and value as ’prior to’ ver­ sus ’as a result of’ inquiry, it is in this disagreement that we are interested. Russell himself appears to he of the opinion that his differences with Dewey over logic and epistemology arise from different ultimate values held hy each. As such, then upon his own theory their quarrel is irreconcilable since differences over ultimate values cannot be decided. Says he, "Ultimately, the controversy between those who base logic upon ’truth’ and those who base it upon ’inquiry’ arises from a difference of values, and cannot be argued without, at some point, begging the question.

The point of view of this present treatment is actu­ ally a reversal of this, namely, it is held that their differences over logic and theory of knowledge explain the 2 differences on the question of values, and not vice versa. If he meant to be conciliatory in the closing remarks of his essay on "Dewey’s New Logic. " it is quite understandable that he would be willing to leave the acceptability of a given theory of knowledge up uo what happened to be one ’ s

^"Dewey’s New Logic. " PJD. p. 156. 2An explicit analysis of this contention will be given when following the presentation of Russell’s criticism of Dewey’s theory of inquiry the nature of• the con­ nection will be more apparent. ' See pp. I39ff, 118 bias.^ On the other hand, this cannot be Russell’s sincere conviction, for if it is, then he is in agreement vrith (his caricature of) Dewey’s view, ' which he so definitely rejects. To put it simply, if Russell’s statement is a

correct report of his position, then it is an incorrect report, hence it is an incorrect report. In any event, it is an unphilospphic appros.ch to the issue, or possibly

the minimal philosophic approach, if complete subjectivism and scepticism is a legitimate philosophic frame of refer­ ence.

Certainly there are some differences of values, in

the concrete, between Russell and Dewey, In the sense that they are two different personalities, and one’s per­ sonality is a bundle of values, they are bound to have different valueâ. Thus one man’s personality suits him best for abstract work in logic and the foundations of mathematics, while the other man’s personality can make greater contributions to education and the social sciences.

However, these differences were not found in our preceding analysis to be so great as to affect their philosophic consideration of so objective, formal a question as whether

a science of ethics is possible. Russell has soundly de­ nounced the philosophers who allow their disinterested

search for truth to be biased by personal desires, for

^"Dewey’s New Logic, " PJD, p. 156. gibld.. p. 150f. jP ) —p • ) . —p 119 ”tiie true piiiiosoplaer is prepared to examine all precon­ ceptions*"^ In admitting that the influence of bias

beyond the limits of rational investigation might be the only explanation of their differences, they •would be abdicating their title of "philosopher" and surrendering all claim to a hearing of the issue on its philosophic merits. If they chose to make such abdication and to speak out as 1 inpassioned private men-in-the-street, they would have a perfect right to do so. However, such an

act would cast such a cloud of doubt upon all their philo­ sophic work, that in so far as they are "lovers of wisdom," they could not bear to see the children of their philoso­ phic lives made orphans, prey to the forces which would gladly devo-ur them. The issue of why they disagree over the possibility of a science of ethics must then be argued out on philosophic grounds, for philosophy, not ethical bias and passion, is their guide of life.

Russell*s view of the nat-ure of taruth and knowledge can best be contrasted with Dewey's as one which emphasizes 2 antecedent causes of beliefs rather than consequent effects* Hence, he holds to the correspondence theory of truth "ac­

cording to which the truth of basic propositions depends upon their relation to some occurrence, and the truth of

other propositions depends upon their syntactical relations

p. 855* ^ÏMT. p. 410 and HIVP, p* 826. 120 ..1 to basic propositions*” Or to take a passage from a non-technical writing of 1929, Russell states: My definition of truth, is that a belief is true when it corresponds to a fact* But how do I get to this corres­ pondence with fact?..*^^-quite often one doesn^t, but in some cases it can be done/^ ...we get at our own feelings and sensations, which seem to be verifications of our pre- Vj-ous belief s. ... there is an% enormous sun ers true- ture that goes beyond that.

It is important to notice that it is, strictly speaking, beliefs that are true or false for Russell. "When you assert a sentence, you express a ’belief,* which may be

equally v/ell expressed in a different language. The ’belief,’ whatever it may be, is what is ’true’ or ’false* or ’more or less true.’ Thus we are driven to an investi- gation of ’belief*’" Beliefs are generally expressed in propositions, so we say that truth is a quality of pro­ positions. And propositions are psychological events* Wot all propositions have to be expressed in sentences, and since the usual manner of manipulating propositions in scientific or other investigation, is by means of sen­ tences, it would thus follow that the concepts of ’veri­ fiability’ and ’ knowledge ’ are narrower than that of ’truth* ’

Russell says, "I suggest that ’true* is a wider concept than ’verifiable,* and, in fact, cannot be defined in

1 IMT, p* 362* S?Three Ways to the World," p* 18* gSP, p* 821. xhis and the following summary noints are given in IMT. p* 237* 121 terms of verif iatility®

Ttius the simple en^iricist theory of knowledge which identifies knowledge, truth and, verification is untenable to Russell. Here is the crux of the split between Dewey’s and Russell * s theoriesc of knowledge. Russell ^ s inquiry is an attempt to show those points at which empiricism

does not do justice to what is commonly accepted as know­ ledge, but may be incapable of verification, and in these cases to provide a justification with the least deviation

from empiricism. Russell says, "All those who make’veri­ fication* fundamental overlook the real problem, which is

the relation between words and non-verbal occurrences in judgments of perception. " From this it will appear that a great deal of the misunderstanding between Dewey and Russell comes from the fact that they have concentrated

their efforts in different problem areas. This seems to go along with H. C. Brown’s appraisal, previously mention­ ed.®

Russell has made a valiant attempt to treat the ’real

problem’ when finding empiricism forced to an examination

of "the relation between words and non-verbal occurrences. "

At this point, according to A. P. Ushenko, Russell broadens the concept of experience to include introspective experi­

ence and thus offers "a plausible empirical derivation to

H m , p. 284. Ibid.. p. 087. See above, p.79, 122 *op* and *not* as well as to the remaining elements of logical analysis, with, the possible exception of the existential prefix.

It is difficult to see how this is different from Dewey’s assertion in his "Reply" in the volume of the

Library of Living Philosophers, that the important point of his own discussion of apprehension is "the proper

logical interpretation of direct apprehension. That which by contrast is said to be not important with re­ spect to that problem is precisely the nature and action of the organic mechanisms to which Mr. Russell devotes his attention," (-in the critical essay Russell wrote for the Dewey volume). For Dewey, knowing, as opposed to direct motor pesponse to a stimulus, involves the thing apprehended as means of knowing something else, i.e. the apprehension is a mediating factor. The only explanation that seems to offer itself of how they could be so near and yet so far from one another is that for Dewey the process of direct apprehension is not thought of as a complex phenomenon which in itself is a doubtful situation, and hence worthy of inquiry.

Russell does regard a judgment of perception as requiring a ground in the logical-verbal structure, such that he

^Ushenko, "Russell’s Critique of Empiricism," PER, p. 396; Mr. Ushenko ’s article was of great help with this present gdiscussion. "Reply," PJD, p. 569. 123 would say in effect *I am receiving or experiencing

a feline patch of color* in situations where Dewey would simply say *I see a cat.* The point is that Russell feels that every assertion of the type ’I see a cat'

goes beyond what is actually given in any particular perception and involves the use of material outside of

that perception and possibly outside all perception, e.g. the so-called "laws of thought. " Dewey on the other hand would tend to group all the factors that go into assert­ ing *I see a cat* in the broader concepts of condition­ ing, interaction between organism and environment, and so forth. This is a highly inadequate and distinctively macroscopic analysis compared with Russell's delving beneath the level of common sense experience. Now if we turn to a consideration of "Dewey's New

Logic." in The Philosophy of John Dewey, we find Russell criticises the theory of inquiry most severely and sys­ tematically. Finding the concept of 'situation* so very central in Dewey's thought, Russell asks how large a situation is. If inquiry is conducted within the pro­ blematic situation, what is to keep the range of the inquirer's field from extending to the whole universe, so that the only satisfactory close of inquiry would be 124 an all encompassing Absolute system?^ Since Dewey in­ sists upon the temporal continuity of inquiry linking one problematic situation to another, Russell says he sees no way in which logically "a * situation* can embrace less than the whole universe; this is an inevitable con- O sequence of the insistence upon continuity." To expand upon Russell*s objection, if the resolution of a given problematic situation is itself the setting for an even larger problematic situation, such that each solution would be seen as material for another inquiry, then ultimately the universe is Dewey * s all embracing proble­ matic situation. This difficulty, we might add, if the appraisal of Dewey's position is fair, is even more pressing in the field of ethics. For here the conclu­ sion that so and so is valuable in terms of certain given conditions raises the question of whether it is valuable in a more extended situation. And if the result of valuational inquiry certifies its value in that situa­ tion, this is but the material for another inquiry as to its value in a still more extended situation. This seems

Dewey of course insists that the resolution of a pro­ blematic situation is always resolution of a particular, never of a universal or genehal situation. See Logic. p. 531. Dewey refers to this passage in his reply to Russell * s "Dewey * s Eew Logic « " and hints that since it comes within 4 pages of the end of the book, possibly Russell did not see it. ("Reply," PJD, p. 549.J "Dewey* s New Logic, " P JD , p. 139. 125 to follow if the nature of the desirable is not merely that which we dn desire, but that which under certain specifiable circumstances we will be able to continue to desire.^ The continuity of inquiry, linking situations, seems to imply that the "specifiable circumstances'’ would be ever wider and wider situations. This ultimately puts the Value-inquirer in a position of Judging the whole

universe to see if it would be the kind of a universe he would desire if he attained uhe present object of de­

sire.

This sort of interpretation is not entirely ruled out by Dewey’s reply to Russell’s criticism, although to "Z^ie familiar with Dewey’s philosophizing this talk of the universe as the ultimate problematic situation strikes an alien note on the mundane plane of Dewey’s writings. Dewey in replying to Russell tries to answer by stating

that "Situations are immediate in their direct occurrence, and mediating and mediated in the temporal continuum con- P stituting life-experience." Dewey denies that he fails

into Hegelianism or that his position necessarily leads to , as Russell charges. He says in reference to

Russell’s failure to grasp the nature of a situation.

^See the discussion of "The Satisfying and the Valuable," pp. 783ff, from Quest for Certainty, no. 260-281. '^^ply," PJD, p. 546. 126 ”Any one wiio refuses to go outside tlie universe of dis­ course-^ as Mr. Russell apparently does- has of course shut hi 158elf off from understanding what a * situation, * 2 as directly experienced suhject-matter, is." A situa­

tion is the contextual whole within which we experience objects or events. "In actual experience, there is never any...isolated singular object or event; an object or event is always a special part, phase, or aspect, of an environing experienced world- a situation. " Thus a situation is the experienced field, or universe of experi­ ence, which is the setting for particular objects. In terms more likely to be understood by Russell, a situation is an unanalysed, total experience. Negatively Dewey says this when he states, "One cannot decline to have a situa­ tion for that is- equivalent to having no experience, not even one of disagreement.

If Dewey had said that inquiry begins with a doubtful experience, Russell might have agreed, even if this agree­ ment would have been disrupted by Dewey * s stand that truth

This Russell denies, IMT. pp. 402-5. Dewey acknowledges Russell*s assertion that his "problem has been, through­ out, the relation between events and the propositions that they cause men to assert, " but Dewey's acknowledgment does not seem to leave the two men any closer to under­ standing. See PofM, p. 340ff. g "Reply,* BJD, p. 546. Logic, p. 67. ^Ibid.. p. 69. 127 is the resiilt of a successful inquiry and as such is en­ tirely confined to the realm of experience. For while Russell does not limit his inquiries to the realm of dis­ course alone, hut insists that one must investigate the relationship between propositions and the existential, factual conditions which make propositions true or false,

he finds Dewey's limitation of inquiry to situations,i.e. experiences, unduly restrictive. This tenet of Dewey's position does not do credit to those aspects of knowledge which cannot be derived from experience, such as the

principle of causality, nor does Dewey adequately answer the problem of how experiences have connection with the factual realm which ultimately gives warrantibi1ity or truth to assertions. The whole subordination of 'truth' to 'inquiry' finds little favor in Russell's eyes. He objects that Dewey's definition of inquiry as the process of transferring an indeterminate state into a determinate state of affairs is inadequate. The proviso of Dewey's that "inquiry is concerned with objective transformations of objective subject-matter" only adds fuel to the fire.^ Russell states that if this is inquiry, then the drill-sergeant engaged in drilling a bunch of raw recruits, and the brick layer making a wall from a pile of bricks are en- 2 gaging in inquiry.

^HWP, p, 823; quotation from Logic, p. 287. Ibid. 128 Furtiier Russell expressly criticises tlie thouglit

that "inquiry alters the obiect as well as the subject"

in its process.^ Russell thinks of inquiry as being guided by an antecedent reality or system of facts which

must not change during the process of inquiring into them. If the objects of inquiry, like a burning candle,

continually change, then the problem of determining what state they are in, i.e. what is factually the case, is hopeless. To this Dewey replies "scientific knowledge

has an effect upon things previously directly-experienced- but-not-known. " Dewey does not hold "that knowing modifies

the object of knowledge. That a planet as known is a very different thing from the speck of light that is found g in direct experiènce, I should suppose to be obvious."

The fact that there is a wide disagreement between the two men*8 positions as to what is 'direct exp>erience, * the

'object of knowledge, ' etc. would seem to lead to an im­ passe here. Particularly the aspect of Dewey's theory which locates facts within and as an integral part of the very process of inquiry goes counter to Russell's whole orientation. Facts are facts, and they may guide inquiry as a beacon guides an airliner, but the beacon is not part of the plane and crew. For Dewey the beacon is part of

^"Dewey's New Logic. PJD. p. 143. ^"Reply," PJD, p. 647. •^Ibid. 129 the total situation, such that it is meaningless to speak of it apart from pilot, plane, points of origin

and destination, and so forth. So it is that according to Dewey truth is a property the sole determinants of which are found within the process of inquiry, or are hound up with knowledge. Says Russell on the other hand» ”I find myself believing...that truth and knowledge are different, and that a proposition may be true . although no method exists of discovering that it is so.

4kThus if in Russell*s mind each proposition is either true 2 or false, quite apart from its context in any given in- qui3?y, he is understandably very dissatisfied with Dewey's 3 conception of propositions as instruments of inquiry, possessing no properties not derived from inquiry. Dewey

says, "the process of developing the meaning-contents

of ideas in their relations to one another...operating

with symbols constitutes propositions. Further, the "examination of the meaning as a meaning. .. consists in noting what the meaning in question implies in relation

to other meanings in the system of which it is a member, the formulated relation constituting a proposition. T h i s

seems to be saying that there is no such thing as an

^IMT. p|L 360-1. gra y, p. 62. Tl*OKic. n. 283f. ^TbidT; p. 111. Sibid.; italics not in original. 130 1 2 isolated, basic proposition or an atomic proposition which, is not part of a given system of propositions- or meaning relationships. Russell could, of course, not accept this view of the nature of propositions. By his rejection of Russell*s correspondence theory of truth and of the status of facts outside the context of inquiry, Dewey closed the door to Russell’s conception of proposi­ tions. For propositions from the Hatter’s point of view express facts, if they are embodied in significant sen­ tences and are not non-sense.

To put Russell’s position more clearly, sentences which are not non-sense have a significance. They purport to tell us something. Russell then may define ’proposition’ as "The class of, all sentences having the same significance 3 as a given sentence." And since significance is not a mere syntactical concept, but to the contrary, "a non- tautologous sentence is significant in virtue of some re­ lation that it has to certain states of the person using the sentence, i.e. believings, we have a factual aspect present which makes no mention of the necessity of a con­ text of inquiry. Then further, so -far we have said nothing about ’truth* and ’falsehood^ * It must be noted that there is a further factual aspect of propositions when one looks

p. 171. ^OEEW. p. 62. giMT. p. 209. 131 from th.e expressing of beliefs, wlilcli is sufficient to give significance to a sentence, to what beliefs indicate. Russell says, "it is part of tbe purpose of a sentence in tbe indicative to ^ indicate ' one or more facts wbicb, in general, are not states of tbe person pronouncing

the sentence," i.e. which are not the mere expressing of a belief as itself a fact. Thus the significance of a given sentence is the proposition it formulates. This 2 proposition is a psychological or physiological state, e.g. believing, which not only expresses the state of the believer, but may indicate a fact. When it does indicate

a fact, the proposition is true, and a sentence the signi­ ficance of which is a true proposition, is true. Now when Dewey states bluntly in his Logic that "propositions are products of provisional appraisals, evaluations, of existences and of conceptions as means of

institution of final judgment which is objective resolution g of a problematic situation," the subordination of proposi­

tions to inquiry is evident. Rather than define ’truth* and ’knowledge* in terms of a theory of propositions, Dewey defines the latter in terms of inquiry, his counter­ part to the former. Commenting that the prevailing theory of propositions is that of Russell’s, although he doesn’t

p. 210. , p . 23*7—8. ^ogic. p. 287. 132 identify it tiiis way, iie contrasts his own position as holding that "propositions are to he differentiated and identified on the ground of the function of their contents as means, procedural and material, further distinctions of forms of propositions being instituted on the ground of the special ways in which their respective charac­ teristic subject-matters function as means

lîot only does Russell take this as evidence that Dewey’s position is essentially alien to the true spirit and atti­ tude of science and philosophy, which venerate loiovvledge, truth and so forth as ends, but Russell finds it impossible to reconcile with his own position, as outlined. Dewey twists the sword in the wound, so to speak, when to make sure his view on,the nature of propositions is understood he states: But at this point it is pertinent to note that, since means as such are neither true nor false, truth-falsity is not a property of propositions. Means are either effective or Ineffective; pertinent or irrelevant; waste­ ful or economical, the criterion for the dif­ ference being found in the consequences with which they are connected as means. ^

It is statements similar to this that make Russell despair of Dewey’s position. In a plaintive note he says,

’'When what passes for knowledge is considered to be no more than a momentary halting-place in a process of inquiry, which has no goal outside itself, inquiry can no longer provide intellectual joys, but becomes merely a means to better dinners and more rapid locomotion.

^-QSic» p. 287. 2ibid. 133 Activity can supply only lialf of wisdom; tiie other half depends upon a receptive passivity.

Particularly was Russell bothered when he consulted the index of Dewey^s Logic for ’truth* and found only reference to a footnote, p. 345n., where Dewey quotes Peirce approvingly, and the "see reference" to *Asserti-

bility Warranted.* Of course the word * truth * is not what is important, and Dewey chooses to avoid its use due to the ambiguitis and implied absoluteness of the 2 term. Possibly the absence of the word is not too damn­ ing, for after all if Dewey * s warranted assertibility

gives an adequate account of all those instances where * truth * was previously used to describe a quality in our experience, ,there can be no objection of serious im­ port. Actually Dewey defends his analysis of * truth * in terms of *warranted assertibility* as an attempted 3 definition of knowledge. He did not mean to substitute the latter for the former, except a substitution of words which he will aid in clearing up some of the ambiguities attendant upon * tiruth. *

However, in addition to dissatisfac tion with Dewey * s treatment of *situation,* * truth, * ’proposition,* and ’knowledge,* Russell has several criticisms of the whole conception of inquiry which are still to be considered.

1 "Dewey’s Hew Logic.” PJD, p. 156. fLogic, p. 9. ^PofM. pp. 331-2. 134 Russell takes iiis starting point from the aspect of Dewey's theory that indicates the close of a successful inquiry as the removal of the doubt that began the pro­ cess of inquiry. Ee plays around with this thought and parodies it thus; "To say that one man is a better in­ quirer than another can only mean that he allays more doubts, even if he does so by a brass band and ingenious spot-lighting. All this is not what Dr. Dewey means; but if it is not to follow from what he says, inquiry Tfill have to have some goal other than the removal of doubt.This goal, for Russell, would be the success­ ful ascertainment of what is the objective factual order of the object or event under examination in inquiry. He feels that if inquiry is not controlled by reference to this objective, factual state of affairs, scientific truth is at the mercy of whatever faction has the most

power of persuasion. Eis failure to find any factual state of affairs to which value judgments obviously refer,

as scientific statements refer to the factual realm, was seen earlier to be his basis for ruling ethics out of

the realm of science.

There being no objective goal for the termination of inquiry except the removal of the "need for doubt"

which was the cause of the commencement of inquiry, Russell believes this leaves inquiry in a very tenuous subjective

^"Dewey*s New Logic. "PJD. p. 148. 135

state of affairs. For what is to determine that there is no longer "need for douht"? Russell would answer from his own point of view that there is need for doubt as long as there is some likelihood that there is a mistake in the inquiry*s results as to vrhat is the ob­ jective situation into which one is inquiring.^ He feels that on Dewey's position it might be correct to say that there is &till need for doubt as long ss the consequences of a particular inquiry do not give us the desired re­

sults, while we feel that another path of action might.

By his emphasis upon personally desired results in this connection. Russell seems to be entirely disregarding

everything that Dewey has said about the process of in­ quiry having an.operational element that is in great part dependent upon the structural pattern pursued in inquiry, quite independently of the personal desires of the in­ quirer.^ 1:;

In his humorous example of attempting to . get his car started when it won^t go Russell again parodies the 3 process of inquiry. He suggests that the problem is to g "Dewey's Hew Logic. " PJD. p. 148. Note the proviso in Dewey's statement of "the proper interpretation of 'pragmatic'" as "the function of conse­ quences as necessary tests of the validity of propositions, provided these consequences are operationally instituted and are such as to resolve the specific problem evoking the operations."(Logic. p. iv.) This proviso alone should be enou^ to refute any chargees that the personal desires of the inquirer are important in the determination of that -Which is the proper close of a process of inquiry. "Dewey's New Logic. PJD. pp. 148-9. 136 get the car scarted., and tliis institutes a series of actions-

tapping, pounding, shaking, kicking the car to make it go. Eventually the car starts. This is the successful close of inquiry, for the problematic situation has been resolved by the intermediation of activities adequate to the removal of the doubtful state che car owner was in. Russell says of inquiry- actually of his parody- "My behavior is just like that of an animal trying to get out of a cage, and may have just as little intellectual content.Of course this is not a fair appraisal of Dewey's theory of inquiry. For if the situation is such as an animal resorting to random activity to escape, it is not a case of inquiry. In inquiry there is the cognitive element of hypothesis and formulae

applied in activity to verify the hypothesis. Dewey does not give us adequate information as to exactly how the pro­

cess of hypothesis formation proceeds and how one selects such and such as an hypothesis and not so and so. But it cannot be denied that he insists upon cognitive activities as part of the operational institution of the consequences which resolve the problematic situation. 2 Commenting on Dewey’s proviso to the rule of conse­ quences as the tests of validity, Russell says that the first part of the proviso, "which insists that the conse­ quences must be ’operationally instituted, ’ is one of which

^"Dewey’s New Logic," PJD, p. 149. ^See above, p. 135, foot note. • 137 the meaning remains to me somewhat obscure. In working out his uncertainty about Dewey's meaning here, Russell persists in making the terms of the successful resolution

of a problematic situation revolve around the concept of personal doubt on the part of the inquirer. Dewey insists

that the attainment of warranted assertibility does not hinge upon the achievement of results which are personally pleasing to the inquirer, but rather has to do with the removal of objective conditions, in the indeterminate situation, which cause there to be doubt, and hence a 2 problematic situation for the inquirer. Dewey does not express himself too well on this point, giving rise to a

feeling on Russell*s part that "a doubtful situation could g exist without a'personal doubter." What Dewey actually means is that the indeterminate situation la indeterminate, objectively, and quite apart from anyone’s personal in­

terests, When one comes into an indeterminate situation,

doubt arises, and we now speak of the indeterminate situa­

tion as the ’doubtful* situation, which in turn gives rise

to the problematic situation and inquiry. Russell’s failure to understand the relationship between the indeterminate, doubtful, problematic and determinate situations in the process of inquiry makes him hinge the whole process upon

^IMT, p. 406. g’^p l y , ” PJD, p. 57i. IMT, p.407. 138

the removal of personal douht. Dewey is ambihuous in his formulation of the relation of the doubtful situation

to conditions objectively established apart from a personal doubter, and this leads to confusion on Russell*s part.

Dewey cleared up this blunder in an exchange with another writer in the Journal of Philosophy, but unfortunately there is no evidence that Russell had received anything like the following clarification from Dewey when he wrote this article. Reprinted in Problems of Men. Dewey says:

In dealing with the difficulty due to vagueness in my idea on indeterminateness, I wish to state that in one point...I was guilty of a loose use of language of a kind that readily leads to misunderstanding.... In a passage.. .^iogic, pp. 105-671 used the term * doubtful ' in connection with the pre- inquiry situation, and used it as if it were a synonym for the indeterminateness I attribute to what pre-inquiry situation. Doubting is, obviously, correlative with inquiring* 1

If such an explanation had been given to Russell*s question- 2 ing, possibly they could have talked on more equal terms.

PofM. pp. 326-7; the reference to the Logic is not given gby Dewey, but is probably the passage in question. 'Unfortunately in Dewey * s response to the Inquiry, pub­ lished before the article cited above, he does little to clarify the issue. In fact he repeats the confusion (PofM. p. 349) and depends upon Russell penetrating the meaning of his Logic in order to grasp the nature of the doubtful situation. Of. p. 350: "Doubt can, as I have said, be legitimately imputed to the organism only in a secondary or derived manner. " This seems to mean "derived from the doubtful situation, " rather than from the indeterminate situation* 139 For one of the chief, over-all objections Russell has to

Dewey * s position is what he feels to be its lack of any objective situation which is the focal point of inquiry. It is this central objection to Dewey’s theory of knowledge, as well as the general points of disagreement considered in the immediately preceding pages, that cause the two men to take opposite sides on the question of the possibility of a science of ethics. That this is the source of their difference might well have been suggested by the individual analyses of each man’s stand on the possibility of a science of ethics, given in chapters 2 and 3. From the lack of obvious basis for their contrary positions within wide areas of their philosophies, e.g. social-political philosophy, educational philosophy, philosophy of religion, etc.it appeared that the only obvious points of critical disagreement were over theory 2 of knowledge. It is this disagreement which lies at the root of their respective views on the possibility of a science of ethics.

If there are to be propositions about value which are capable of verification by scientific means, Russell’s theory of knowledge insists that these propositions refer g to some factual state of affairs. Science aims at know- gSee Ch. 4. See p. 116. ®The reader is referred back to the chapters mentioned in the preceding paragraph for the analysis of each man’s position, with the accompanying documentation to support the present summary presentation. 140

ledge through, the ascertainment of true propositions. The operations which verify propositions differ within a limited degree according to the particular science in question, but in general the scientist takes a given body of facts and seeks a general law or principle which will explain these facts, while at the same time doing justice to the previous body of scientific knowledge. His func­ tion is essentially to direct controlled observations and calculations in such a manner as to determine whether or not the factual state of affairs corresponds to the tenta­

tive principle, or hypothesis, which he has formulated in explanation of the facts under investigation. If his hypothesis covers the observed facts, i.e. corresponds to them, it is tentatively accepted and eventually received into the body of scientific knowledge, anirejected if it

proves inadequate. Scientific knowledge is no different from any know­

ledge, except in the degree of care taken in the determina­ tion of it. All knowledge is the ascertaining of proposi­ tions that report facts accurately. Now when Russell

observes the realm of values and considers the question

of knowledge in the field of ethics, he does not, as we have previously seen, find any factual referent for the value terms in ethical statements. Having rejected value realism, he finds that value terms can only be explained in terms of desires. However, they do not, strictly 141 speaking, assert we have such and such desires, hut

merely express these desires. In fact ethical state­ ments do not assert anything about the factual world,

and if there is no factual referent for value terms, then in light of the nature of scientific knowledge, we cannot have knowledge in the realm of ethics. This recapitulation is over-simplified, and the reader is referred back to the previous analysis once more. Yet

this sketch of Russell’s basis for rejecting the possi­ bility of a science of ethics serves to point out the

crucial question where his disagreement with Dewey’s theory of knowledge is relevant to their differences

over a science of ethics. For Dewey is not troubled by the apparent lack of a factual referent for value terms. This is due to his general stand on the question of factuality. The dualism of facts and values melts away in his position. Pacts like values for Dewey are elements within an inquiry situation and are not to be considered as conditions out­

side the process of inquiry to which the investigator must adjust his science, as a pilot must point his ship toward the beacon if he is to arrive in port. The scient­ ist begins his investigation with the problematic situa­ tion, and all ther* terms of his investigation are given in relation to the situation. , Pacts are facts-of-the-case

^”The Field of ’Value,’" p. 77. 142

and are, like propositions, instruments of and Im inquiry, not external conditions to which, inquiry is subject. The close of scientific inquiry is not knowledge, in Russell*s sense, for correspondence to the facts is not what Dewey says science aims at. Science * s goal is the resolution of the problem which began inquiry. In the process of seeking a resolution to the problem the scientist ranges all the tools of his investigation before him, so to speak, and institutes activity (part of which is cognitive to be sure) which will bring the diverse aspects of the problem into a unified whùle, a settled condition. 7«hen he has successfully resolved the problem, his work as scientist is done, and his conclusions have warranted assertibility to the degree that his operations of inquiry were conducted properly. At no point in his investigations has he said or attempted to say anything about conditions which lie outside the scope of his inquiry. He has not tried to ascertain whether or not given propositions 'Correspond" to the facts, since propositions are merely procedural means for the resolution of the problem at hand.

When this is seen as the setting for a science of eth­ ics, Russell*s objection that he does not find any factual reference for value terms in propositions does not con­ stitute for Dewey serious grounds against extending the range of science to value phenomena. The issue as to 145 whether or not science is engaged in ascertaining the

factual nature of an independent reality and expressing

the same in prepositional form would quite likely divide Russell and Dewey on the possibility of any given science, were it not that biology, chemistry, physics, and so on are going concerns. The possibility of these sciences is not in question, since their actuality is evident. However, it is interesting to note the degree of attention Russell has given to the problems of modern physics and in general to the whole question of the scope and limits of empirical science. This, in contrast with the little work Dewey has done in this area, is indicative of the nature of their respective views on the nature of scienti­ fic knowledge, pussell^s position is such that it con­ stantly forces him to consider the foundations of empiri­ cal science, particularly on the question of how it can legitimately be said to report the factual state of things. The remoteness from common sense of the world of physics has constantly been occasion for epistemological investi­ gation on Russell*s part-^ He is convinced of the essenti­ al soundness of physics, and for this reason he has given much time and energy to the justification of physical science. To the contrary, the nearness of the subject matter of ethics has been equally a disturbing element

1„ The record of this concern can be traced from Our Knowledge of the External World up to Human Knowledge. 144 when the Issue of knowledge in this area is under consid­ eration. Here, as in physics, the factual reference of the terms of the discipline are not evident to common sense inspection. Also, since the subjeèt matter of ethics is man*s own nature, the factual basis of value is obscured for Russell by the constant presence of first- person experience. Just as it is a problem of physics to connect present observations and assertions with events happening millions of miles away in space-time, so it is seen by Russell to be a serious limitation on ethics that all its propositions are intimately connected with passions and desires intricately bound up with the very assertion of the propositions.

Dewey himself provides a fitting summary to the pre­ sent discussion when he centers attention on the manner in which differences of theory of knowledge vitally effect agreement over the possibility of a science of ethics. While he does not specifically refer to Russell, the comment is made in the same general context as his reply to Russell and is certainly relevant. Says Dewey;

If the object of science is something which is related as a real thing to a thing of direct experience as merely apparent, and if it has to be made, by means of inferential processes, to replace the latter, it is clear that no such scientific replacing object exists in the case of things of desire, affection and direct enjoy­ ment. From this point of view a the possibility of scientifically vsL id objects of valuation as 145 a form of knowledge Is ruled out from tiie start. But if th.e scientiflq object is a generalized constant correlation of sets of changes^ there is no insuperable object set up by premises laid down in advance. Correlations between changes that form conditions of desires, etc., and changes that form their consequences when acted upon, have the same standing and function in this field that physical objects have in their field:^

This is an adequate characterization of Russell's and Dewey's contrasting views and lends support to the

contention of this present essay that the key to their disagreement over the science of ethics lies in their divergent theories of knowledge and accompanying con­

ceptions of the nature of science. It is one thing, however, to point out the basis of this disagreement, and quite another' question as to whether there is any hope of reconciling the difference.

^"Reply," PJD. p. 543. 146

Part III.

The Possibilities of Reconciling Their Disagreement

Chapter 6.

The Irreconcilable Natrure of Their EplstemolQg;lc-al Differences

If the analysis in the preceding chapter is valid, we 3nay well ask what hope of agreement over the possi­ bility of a science of ethics there is for Dewey and Russell.^ The alternatives seem to be that either they might resolve their differences regarding theory of knowledge, or one might, for reasons drawn from his own epistemological position, find agreement with the other's views on the science of ethics. There does not seem to be any hope that by direct assault upon the problem of ethical science they would reach unanimity, for the focal point of controversy is the theory of knowledge. All

^ John Dewey's death^ which occurred during the final writing of this study, has unfortunately marked the close of his controversy with Bertrand Russell. This essay was never presumptuously regarded as a candidate for the role of arbitrator between the two in the hope that either would be "converted” to a state of agree­ ment with the other, yet it is with a deep sense of personal regret that Prof. Dewey's death must be noted. The tense in which Dewey is spoien of must be regarded as the historical present, but all philosophers live in the present. 147 attempts to discuss directly ttie possibility of a science are of valuation bound to revert to differences over tlae A nature of knowledge and specifically of scientific know­ ledge .

Since in personal interchange^ of criticisms they have not settled the crucial differences in their theories

of knowledge, little can be done here except to give Dewey a final chance to clarify his position in lighi of Russell*s adverse appraisal previously considered. There might possibly result some light on the problem of reconciling their theories of knowledge which was not apparent pre­ viously in Russell’s criticism and Dewey’s spotty response.

No attenipt is made to repeat Russell’s criticism now, for

the emphasis is upon Dewey’s clarification of his theory of inquiry so that an accurate appraisal of the prospects of reconciling their views may be reached. However, in brief review of the issues that Dewey is trying to clarify for Russell, it may be said that the latter finds diffi­ culties in Dewey’s concepts of (1) ’truth, ’ ’warranted assertibility,’ and ’knowledge,’ (2) ’factuality,’ (3) per­ ception in relation to en^irical knowledge, (4) conse­ quences as the tests of (1), (5) ’proposition,’ (6) ’in-

To cite only recent exchange of criticism, there is the Library of Living Philosophers’ Dewey volume, with article by Russell and reply by Dewey, and chapter 23 of Russell’s Inquiry followed by part III, chapter 10, of Dewey’s Problems of Men. 148 qulry, * (7) * situation, * as tlie context of inquiry.^ On th.e issue of Dewey ' s substitution of * warranted. assertibility* for * truth* and *knowledge^ * it was pre- 2 viously noted tiiat Dewey only substitutes tbe words

'warranted assertibility* for the word * truth. * He actually meant to be giving a definition of * truth* and * knowledge * in their most honorific sense, in terms of

the process of inquiry necessary for the attainment of truth and knowledge. All along Dewey has been more in­ terested in the conditions necessary for arriving at knowledge, than in knowledge as a final, fixed affair which somehoT/ transcends the terms of the process by which it is attained.

Per this reason he has placed special engjhasis upon the role of hypothesis formation and theory contruetion as "the conditions under which we reach warranted asserti­ bility about particular matters of fact. **^ His interest in the former has not been, as Russell charges, predominant to the neglect of the investigation of factual conditions

^Dewey gives a ll^Ctc of what he considers "important differences" with Russell, namely "the nature of pro­ positions; operations; the respective force of ante­ cedents and consequences; tl&sts or 'verifiers * ; and experience...."(PofM, p. 331). This list is in essential agreement with the one stated in the text, which was gdrawn directly from Russell*s criticisms. -See p. 133 above. ^PofM. pp. 331-2. ^Ibid.. p. 333. 149 v/hich are the setting of inquiry. On the contrary, Dewey has placed special emphasis upon the role of hypotheses in knowledge "because he sees essential limitations in those viev.s which seem to believe naively

that facts are lying about ready made for the choosing and verifying of scientific- statements. Idec.s, hypo­ theses, and theories are viewed as necessary intermediaries

in the development of operations required to determine what in a given case is true.

If Russell finds undue attention being paid by Dewey to hypotheses to the neglect of facts, Dewey on the other hand is critical of Russell’s tendency to hold that facts

are given immediately in perception such that the verifi­ cation of a proposition is a simple matter of determing

the correspondence of facts and proposition. He finds Russell’s dependence upon the causal theory of perception a weak link in the latter’s position, which tends to

scepticism as long as the apparatus of perception is so

inadequately known. ^ Dewey speaks of "a fundamental

difficulty that Mr. Russell’s view of truth cannot get over or around,” namely that:

The event to be known is that which operates, on his view, as caus e of the proposition while it is also its verifier; although the proposi­ tion is the sole means of knowing the eventJ Such a view...seems to me to assume a mysterious

^Some interesting parallels might be drawn here with the Berkeley-Locke arguments, especially as Berkeley pictures such in his "Three Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous.^ 150 and unverifiable doctrine of pre-established harmony. How an event can be (!) what-is- to-be-known, and hence by description is nn- known, and (il) what is capable of being known only through the medium of a proposition, which, in turn (ill) in order to be a case of knowledge or be true, must correspond to the to-be-known, is to me the epistemological miracle. For the doctrine states that a proposition is true when it conforms to that which is not known save through itself.

This seems to Dewey to be a marvelous basis for scepticism

over man’s abilities to attain knowledge. True his own viev/ involves a sceptical element, or

more correccly speaking, it entails rhat man’s knowledge is always governed by a probability factor. However, frankly basing his position upon probability, Dewey can provide for such within his system so it does not become so vicious as the.scepticism resulting from undue depend­

ence upon the causal theory of perception. He thus can allow for

determination of degrees of probablility in rejecting all intrinsically dogmatic statements, where ’dogmatic’ applies to any statement as­ serted to possess inherent self-evident truth. That the only alternative to a scribing to some propositions self-sufficient, self-possessed, and self-evident truth is a theory which finds the test and mark of truth in consequences of some sort is, I hope, an acceptable view. At all events, it is a position to be kept in mind in assessing my views.2

Russell has said that Dewey emphasizes consequences

to the extent that he neglects the necessity of deter­ mining correspondence with the facts as a condition of pPofM, p. 343; see also pp. 335ff and 342-3. PofM. p. 335. 151 truth.. Actually De?/ey claims to hold a correspondence theory in the only acceptable sense of the v.”ord. The

correspondence Dewey seeks is not one between propositions framed outside the context; of the problem and compared to conditions equally external to the conditions of the

investigation. He takes correspondence "in the opera­ tional sense" within a given problematic context. In this

sense a key can be said to * correspond’ to the proper lock and two persons can be said to be in correspondence.when

one’s letter is answered by another. This is corres­ pondence within a given situation, not the mystery of "how something in experience /[can/^ be asserted to correspond

to something by definition outside experience." Dewey

is in agreement with Russell that propositions are de­

termined as ’true' or 'false’ in virtue of vheir relation to "relevant occurrences." The split between them comes on the issue of what are the relevant occurrences. Says

Dewey on the point "X hope it is unnecessary to repeat by this time that the relevant occurrences on my theory are those existential conseouences which, in virtue of opera­ tions existentially performed, satisfy (meet, fulfill) 3 condi-cions set by occurrences that constitute a problem." That these occurrences, or facts one might say, sve ex­ istential could hardly be overlooked in viev/ of the extreme pgpfM. p. 343. p b i d . . p. 344. ^Ibid.. o. 348. 152 emphasis placed upon the word in the previous quotation. Personal doubt over the existential condition iR a pro­ blematic situation may be the beginning of inquiry, but the mere removal of personal doubt will not bring about 1 a successful close to inquiry. Dewey's theory is no more subj ective on this point than Russell's; it is only that Dewey finds no simple isolated facts outside a context of inquiry which make propositions true or false. Thus Dewey does not ignore the "hard data" of immediate perception. He merely questions their ability 2 to function in an evidential capacity. Russell's denial of this view has been a source of disagreement between himself and Dewey from the time of their earliest ex­ change of criticisms. In a review of Our Knowledge of the

External IVorld Dqwey voices rhe same objection to Russell's conception of data as that found in his Problems of Men

^PofM, p.352. This comes out in a discussion with Prof. P.B. Rice on the question of verification of value propositions. Dewey admits "subjective data" and says of course this is what valuations are about or concern. As events, the subjective end the objective "are both of the same nature. They differ (and differ basically) with respect to the capacity of their respective causal conditions to serve as valid grounds- in their ability, that is, to stand up in the exercise of the verifying evidential function." (Problems of Men, p. 252) In another article addressed to Prof. Rice, he says, "The question as to the evidential status for judgment of this ^^ubjectiveT^ material is accordingly still before us.(PofM, p. 269). 153 articles. "VJlien these data are Isolated, from their logi­ cal status and office," Dewey says, "they are inevitably treated as self-sufficient, and leave upon our hands the insoluble, because self-contradictory, problem of de­ riving from them the world of common sense and science. Taken for what they really are, they are elements detected in the world end serving to guide and check our inferences about it.He must therefore reject Russell's contention that these data are the model of knowledge, i.e. knowledge by acquaintance, and that basic propositions are the models and foundation of all true propositions. "In my view," he says, "they are not cases of knowledge, although propositional formulation of them is a necessary (but not Q sufficient) condition of knowledge." Data and facts are mediated by and mediating in the process of inquiry and have no status outside inquiry where questions of truth and knowledge are concerned.

We have previously discussed the two philosophers' disagreement over the nature of propositions and the role they play in theory of knowledge,^ so it is sufficient here /to \merely) state in Dewey's ovna summary manner the issue involved in his dispute with Russell. He says,

^"The Existence of the World as a Problem," p. 370. SpofM, p. 338. fuller discussion of this is to be found on pages 41'^44-5, .above. See pp.l29£^bove. 154

Unless a critic is willing to entertain, in however hypothetical a fashion, the view (i) that knowledge (in its honorific sense) is in every case connected with in­ quiry; (ii) that the conclusion or end of inquiry has to he demarcated from the in­ termediate means hy which inquiry goes forward to a warranted or justified con­ clusion; that (iii) the intermediate means are formulated in discourse, i.e., as pro­ positions, and that as means they have the properties appropriate to means (viz., re­ levancy and efficacy- including economy), I know of no way to make my view intelli­ gible.^ Once more the issue at stake is whether the elements of knowledge- facts, data, etc., including propositions-

are to he regarded as having status solely in terms of specific inquiries, or whether they have some independent

standing quite apart from the conditions of inquiry. Dev;ey of course takes his stand with the former view, and it is difficult to see any manner in which his posi­ tion ’may he reconciled with Russell’s.

Since Russell has not heen ahle to grasp the nature of inquiry in Dewey’s system, there seems to he an impasse here which blocks further attempts to find agreement.

Because Russell is convinced that Dewey has ruled ’truth’

out as the goal of inquiry, he cannot see what inquiry

aims at if not the satisfaction of personal desire. This would put inquiry, in Russell’s conception, on the base

level of organized propaganda, quite far removed from the ascertainment of scientific truth. All Dewey can do here

^PofM, p. 340. 155 is repeat iiis strictures that doubt and satisfaction in inquiry are not personal feelings, but have an ob­ jective corrollary in ohe situation. This seems to have been ineffective in the past, but none the less he states again in his reply to Russell^s Inquiry what the nature and function of inquiry is.

Inquiry, as the set of operations by which the situation is resolved (settled or rendered determinate) has to discover and formulate the conditions that describe the problem in hand. For they are the conditions to be ’satisfied* and the determinants of ’success.’ oince these conditions are existential, they can be deter­ mined only by observational operations; the operational character of observation being clearly exhibited in the experimental character of all scientific determination of data.

The nature of a situation within the context of Dewey’s theory of inquiry was given full consideration 2 previously, and there is nothing to be added at the present moment which might cast light upon a possible avenue of reconciliation between Russell and Dewey. Since the situation is the crux of Dewey's theory of inquiry, and since the situation can be equated with the experi­ ential field v/ithin which inquiry takes place, she failure of Russell and Dewey to agree upon the nature of experi­ ence, reflecting itself in the disagreement over the nature of situations, leaves reconciliation of their

^PofM, p. 345. ^See pp. 22ff. and 122ff. 156 views in a. hopeless dilemma. For Dewey "All experiences are interactivities of an organism and an environment, so the sharp dualism of subject and object in inquiry does not arise, Dewey starts vi/ith organism-in-inter- action-with-surroundings, while one of Russell’s chief concerns is to state the conditions under which a subject comes into direct acquaintance with the environment. Since for Dewey this direct acquaintance is a constant feature of all experience, it cannot of itself be a suf­ ficient condition for knowledge. There must be the added factor of certain operations specifically instituted to resolve a given problem, Russell, starting from the sep­ aration of subject and object in experience, considers a mo^ment of direct experience where hard data are present to be the epitome of knowledge. As stated earlier, in a sense the raw material for Dewey’s inquiry, i,e, a experi­ ence as interation of subject and object, is the finished product.of Russell scientific investigation. Though both start from experience,the former builds upon common sense^i refining and cataloging, while the latter tears common experience apart, analysing and atomising. If this dif­ ference regarding the nature of experience in scientific inquiry is, as Dewey believes, "perhaps, the most important of all differences because it probably underlies the others,"

^PofM. p, 350, ^Ibid,, p, 331, 157 then there seems little or no hope of resolving their disagreements over theory of knowledge, and in this manner achieving agreement on the question of the possi­ bility of a science of ethics. H. S. Thayer does not take ôhis negative conclusion as final. He notes, as we did in chaper 4, the wide areas of agreement between the two philosophers, and hr. Thayer is not content to leave them so far apart on the central questions of sheory of knowledge. He says.

It is a curious and notable fact that two of the most important and influential philosophers of our eime, both ardent champions of scientific intelligence in the conduct of human affairs, should find them­ selves in seemingly complete disagreement on a very fundamental philosophic problem.. ..the nature of truth. It is curious, not only because of the more general agreement to be foundhn the writings of Dewey and Russell on social, economic, political, and 'pure* philosophy, but more especially be­ cause of what might be described as the temper and principal tenet in the philosophy of each; a faith in the importance of science- in scientific method in philosophy as well as in all domains of human inquiry.

Of course we are in essential agreement with Thayer’s appraisal of the wide agreement between Russell and Dewey, but our previous analysis of their differences over theory of knowledge will not allow us to accept the simple solu­ tion which he offers as the bridge between their positions.

He finds a possible link connecting Dewey and Russell on the question of truth in the fact that in a sense they can

^Thayer, "Two Theories of Truth, p. 516. 158 botti be said to bold a correspondence theory. If there is any hope of reconciling the two nen's theories of knowledge, this is quite likely the crucial point at which it rrust be done, as is quite evident from the pre­ vious discussion. Thayer points out that Dewey claims to hold to a correspondence theory of truth in the only truly acceptable meaning of the concept.^ Russell like- p wise offers such a claim. This lends support, at first glance, to Thayer ' s hopes that h.ere is the key to bring­ ing about the sought for agreement.

However, from the standpoint of the present analysis, Thayer must be said to have overlooked an important pro­ viso is De"wey(s statement that he holds a correspondence theory of truth. Dewey says, "my own view takes corres­ pondence in the operational sense im bears in all cases except the unique epistemological case of an alleged •2 relation between a * subj ect* and an ’object’;...." That Thayer apparently understood Dewey’s sense of ’correspond­ ence ’ is evidenced by his summary statement that "Truth, for Dewey, then, refers to ideas, hypotheses, or proposi­ tions, etc., which, warranted by some inquiry, correspond to a problematic situation, specifically in the sense of solving or answering the particular problem which origin­ ally generated that inquiry.

^Thayer, 0 £. cit., p. 518; he refers to PofM, p. 345, cited gabove, p. 1511 „See above p. 119-20. PofM. p. 343; italics not in original. ^Thayer, o^. cit., p. 518. 159

How tiien he could have missed the force of Dewey’s proviso, emphasised by ’except' in the above statement, is not easily understood, but for the recognition that Thayer is most anxious to bring the two positions to­ gether. The ’except’ clause specifically excludes

Russell’s correspondence theory of truth, in so far as this essay’s analysis of the difference between the two men on the issue of ’factuality’ has been correct. Thayer acknowledges that B.ussell holds to "’correspondence’ in the more classical sense,but feels that even with this obstacle, he can still show basis for agreement. ViOaether his further analysis holds or not must be momentarily discussed. Let it be said now that from the present essay’s point of view, Thayer’s succeeding analysis depends in great part upon the illusion created by his first sec­ tion, namely that Russell and Dewey both hold a correspond­ ence theory of truth. Thayer has overlooked the great gulf that separates the two positions, as evidenced by the previous discussion of ’fact,’’situation,’ ’experience,’ and ’inquiry. ’ As much as we might wish to find agreement

Dev;ey’s ’except’ clause, in light of the pages of polemics that have passed between him and Russell, will not permit us to see a solution to our problem in Thayer's reconcilia­ tion based upon the correspondence theory.

Further analysis by Thayer is given, after a discussion

^Thayer, op. cit». p. 518. 160 of the main points of difference between Dewey and hussell on the problem of truth. Eis claim to having found a basis for agreement is expanded by ühe explana­ tion that correspondence for Russell is between meanings of propositions and the empirical events 'hich propositions express. Hence, Dewey's objection to the more classical correspondence theory is avoided in Russell, for corres­ pondence is not between propositions and something out­ side experience, but between propositions (language) and something outside propositions (language).^

To this must be countered that the abiguily of the concept of empirical events lead Thayer astray here. Russell’s explicit disclaimer that 'truth’ and ’veri­ fication .’ are to be identified should have been a hint to

Âlr. Thayer that what makes a proposition true is exactly thaw which Dewey objects to, namely, correspondence to a fact which transcends the scope of experience. That some propositions are known to be true due to certain events coming into our range of empirical observation is the case for Russell. However, the fact that Russell distingu­ ished ’truth’ from ’verification’ and Dev/ey does not.

ImThayer, on. cit., p. 523. 161 refu'ces Thayer * s analysis here.

The point that correspondence for Russell is between propositions or language and something outside proposi­ tions or language is true, but equally misleading. In the first place, sentences occur in given languages, but 2 propositions are in no given language nor are they linguistic. The correspondence of proposition and some­ thing outside language is a correspondence, in the case of truth, of belief and fact- fact that cannot be always said to be within experience. Once more Thayer has over­ looked Russell’s important distinction between ’verifica­ tion ’ and ’truth.’ In the case of an empirically veri­ fied proposition, the correspondence is between the sig­ nificance of the sentence embodying the proposition and an empirical event which is a fact. However, the same pro­ position is "crue prior to verification and prior to the event coming in"DO the inquirer’s collection of empirical

^See Russell, IMT, p. 383; "A ’verifiable’ proposition is one having a certain kind of correspondence with an ex­ perience; a ’true’ proposition is one having exactly the same kind of correspondence with a fact.... Since an ex­ perience is a fact, verifiable propositions are true; but there is no reason to suppose that all true propositions are verifiable." That Dewey identifies ’ "cruth’ with ’warranted assertion’ and hence with ’verification’ has been adequately illustrated in the foregoing discussion. gSee chapter 2, especially, pp.45-6-7. See also pp.120-1. See detailed discussion, pp. 129-130 above. 162 data. Thus, in highly simplified form, Russell's view would he:

’■cruth* = proposition corresponding to fsct (which is not necessarily experienced) ’verified empirical statement or sentence’ - sentence expressing proposition corresponding to an experienced fact In contrast Dewey's position identifies ’truth' and 'veri­

fication, ' or, possibly more accurately, says that all true propositions must be verified or else it is meaningless and even harmful to inquiry to call them true. 'Thayer's general summary statement of the basis for resolving the differences of the two positions claims that both hold to a general correspondence theory in the sense

that a true staterant, as language, corresponds to the world the statement is about.^ To this no better reply

could be given than in Dewey's own ivords, whi ch practi- 2 cally express this same idea. As was previously stated

Dewey acknowledges that for himself and for Russell pro­

positions are true by virtue of a relation they hold to 'relevant occurrences.' "The difference between us,"

says Dewey, "concerns... the question of what occurrences are the relevant ones." Or to put Dewey's words into

Thayer's language, the real issue is what is the nature of~the correspondence of stateinent ■bo"world-statement-is-

Thayer, on. cit., p. .524. ^See above p. 151. ^PofM. p. 348. 1G3 about”?

ï&r. Thayer has one more point in his argument which is slightly diff'eren-c from the previous analysis. Ee claims that "Russell^s sense of correspondence is im- plicltyiy a necessary condition, but not, however, a sufficient condition for truth in Dewey’s theory.There is warx'anb for this view when one consl ders Dewey’s stand on hard data and knowledge by acquaintance. We previous- 2 ly noted that while Dewey holds that propositions about hard data "are nor cases of knowledge,...prepositional formulation of them is a necessary (but not sufficient) 3 — condition of knowledge." This lends weighr to Thayer’s opinion, though he does not cite this passage. Ee merely says that possibly Dev/ey thought the necessary conditions a, _ so obvious that he failed to mention them." In any event

Thayer holds that Dewey’s view of truth as the outcome of inquiry which solves the problem to which it corresponds, g as an answer corresponds to a question, implicitly in­ volves Russell’s more classical correspondence theory.

"The inclusion of Russell’s sense of correspondence as a presupposed and one necessary condition for truth in Dewey’s theory constitutes the basis of the relation between

^Thayer, op. cit., p. 526. 2See above, p. 153. PofM, p. 338. ^Thayer, op. cit., p. 526. Slbid.. p. 527:'- 164 these two theories. And this is the important v/ay, "I have heen contending," Thayer says, "in which these two theories are related. Mr. Thayer is to he commended at having emphasised Dewey's dependence upon the more classical sense of correspondence which is often overlooked, inspite of Dewey*8 ahove acknowledgement. However, in matters of such extreme disagreement as we have seen between ohe theories of knowledge of the two men, it seems hardly enough upon which to hase hopes of a reconciliation to say they agree upon certain "necessary conditions" of truth. The crucial issue is what does each consider the sufficient conditions for a proposition to he true. One might say that Dewey and Russell agree on ûhe necessary condition for truth that there must he proposition. Or, to revert hack to the previous illustration, that pro­ positions are true hy virtue of some relation to "relevant occurrences." Yet if there is such a great disagreement over the nature of propositions or over the nature of the relevant occurrences, this minimal agreement over necessary a. conditions hardly constitutes^hasis for reconciling their positions. vVe are left with the conclusion that, in spite of Mr. Thayer * s nohle attempt; to hring Russell *s and Dewey * s

^Thayer, op. cit., p. 527. 165 concepts of truth, into some minimal agreement, they are still too widely separated in their respective theories of knov.ledge for there to he any hope of solid reconcilia­ tion. This means that the avenue to agreement on the possibility of a science of ethics through resolution of rhe underlying differences in epistemology is closed to us."^

^This is not to say that if Dewey had lived to continue his exchanges with Russell, they might not have found a basis for reconsillation, as Thayer suggests. However, now thar the canon of Dev/ey’s works is closed, at best all one could hope for is reconciliation via some critic’s construction. J-t is contended here that Thayer’s analysis is not sufficient for the task. 166

Chapter 7.

The ünacce-ptahlllty of Russell

Ethical Position to Dewey

Thayer’s statement that "In those cases where a proposition is true for Dewey it is also true for Rus­ sell, " ^leads us zo consider the second alternative posed above on page 146, namely that we might resolve the

differences between the two men over the science of ethics by virtue of reasons drawn from one or the other’s

ovn epistemological position. Thayer’s statement poses a difficult problem when one asks is the following pro­ position, certainly ’true’ for Dewey, also true for

Russell? Namely, "no man or limited set of men is wise enough or toon enough to rule others without their con­ sent; the positive meaning of this statement is that all those who are affected by social institutions must have 2 a share in producing and managing them." The fact that this is not true or even capable of truth for Russell not only emphasises our present problem, but shows again

that Thayer’s analysis is inadequate to provide a basis for reconciling Dewey and Russell. Of course when it is

said that the above statement is not true for Russell,

it is not meant that he rejects the statement as the political ideal he wishes to see realized. Dewey and

Russell are in general agreement in their political ideals,

^Thayer, op. cit., p. 525. ^IMW. p. 401. 167 as we pr-eviouBly saw. Vjlaat is laeant is that while "On questions of fact, we can appeal to science and scientific methods of observation;...on ultimate questions of ethics there seems to be nothing analogous.Thus to ask if she above statement is true is technically meaningless.

It is like the following controversy whi ch hussell creates in the context of the above statement.

Suppose some man says: "You are wrong to wish everybody to be happy; you ought to desire the happiness of Germans and the unhappiness of everyone else." Here ’ought’ may be taken to mean that that is what the speaker wishes me to desire. I might retort that, not being German, it is psychologically impossible for me to desire the unhappiness of all non-Germans; but this answer seems inadequate.

However, ii^^Jquate this answer seems to be, Russell’s posi­ tion, as we have seen, seems to entail that he leave the controversy there, without any means by which to determine whether he or the man is right, since there is no objective truth involved. How, i/hat is the possibility that upon the basis of his own theory of knowledge Dewey might agree with Russell’s view concerning the science of ethics? Very little or no basis at all, seems to be the ready answer. Dewey has a fundamental and deep-seated objection to that aspect of

Russell’s position which places the privacy of perception in science and the privacy of sensation in ethics in such

^HWP. p. 116. 168 a strategic position as to lead to subjectivism In tlie realm of value judgments. Dewey sees that "the *privacy’ of perception and experience generally, and...the ’sub­ jectivity’ of value, /are7 intimately connected with one another.Just as we have seen that he cannot ac­ cept the former, so he just as activelv rejects the latter. Not only does he feel that this subjectivistic psychology is faulty, overlooking the fact that feelings etc. are 2 events or acts having operational status, but he cannot reconcile such a stand with Russell’s insistence upon science as an "authority in determination of the beliefs that hold men together in conjoint action."

Therefore Dewey cannot accept that part of Russell’s position which rules out genuine value propositions in favor of an emotive theory of the nature of value assertions. Dewey holds to the contrary that "propositions about values may be genuine propositions and not mere reports that a given things is or has been valued. He notes that it is often held, as by Russell, we add, "that in the case of so-called final or ultimate values all that is possible is communication of a particular item of information, namely, that they are or have been valued.This places ethics into the hands of external authorities who will determine

1,IPofM, p. 176. ^PofM, p. 177; TofV. p. 8. SPofM,loc. cit. "**"The Field of ’Value,’’’, p. 74. Sibid. 169 for tiie individual v/hat are tlae ultimate values v/iiich. lie * ought’ to seek, that is in Russell’s terms, what the authorities would like ôhe individual to seek. In opposi­ tion to this viey/ D e w e y urges that "formulation of a

comprehensive theory of she conneccion of evaluations with de facto occurrent valuings is indispensable.

In further opposition to Russell's stand Dewey de­ clares that valuation propositions don’t have to be emotively laden to the point that they are incapable of

scientific -creatmen-c. He admits that it will probably be a long time before irrational factors are completely eliminated from the formulation of evaluative judgments.

B ut that is no reason for shutting out the attempt in advance and thereby maintaining the evils to which attention is called. More­ over, it is most decidely to be noted that not many centuries ago conclusions in astronomy and physics -were vitiated by the predominant influence of conditions of the kind mentioned; that less chan a century ago biological inquiries were subjected to great distortion from the same source. The liberating movement that has taken place in these other fields of inquiry is suf­ ficient ground for the attempt to emancipate g valuings and evaluations from similar influences. Dewey is in essential agreement that it is desires which valuation propositions are about, but it is an over­ simplification, as well as an error, to attempt to make a direct transference from "I like it" to "It is good."

This gives authority to those irrational factors, v/hether

^"The Field of ’Value,’" p. 74. ^Ibid., p. 75. 170 they be inspired by religion or patriotism, in their attempt to force personal likes upon others in the guise of ultimate values. In agreement with Russell, Dewey can say, "I do not doubt that ethical theories are often put forth that are in fact elaborate ’rationalizations’ of private and group likes and dislikes; I do not doubt that a desire is a condition of our being aware that something is a value, and possibly also one casual condi­ tion among others of anything’s being a value." ^ How­ ever, this is not to admit that the good is the same as what we like and that values being subjective, therefore valuation propositions are impossible. For Dewey maintains that even upon the logical posi- tivistis own position vsJLuation propositions are possible, which are not; merely reports of de facto values. He argues that "If the ^Fmotive/" expressions involved are valuation- expressions, as this particular school takes them to be, then it follows (i) that valuation-phenomena are social or inter-personal phenomena and (ii) that they are such as to provide material for propositions about observable events-propositions subject to empirical test and verifi- O cation or refutation." He admits that the distinction between emotive and indicative propositions is a useful discrimination. ’’Nevertheless,” he goes on to say, "even

^PofM, n. 178. 2TofV, p. 12. 171 ix tiie former said nothing '.vhatever, they -would, like other natural events, he capable of becoming the subject matter of * scientific’ propositions as a result of a/~ nT" examina "Cion of their conditions and effects.** Thus De-v,ey could on the point of the emotive nature of valua-

"cion propositions only agree with nussell by converting

2.is adversary to his own position, as just explained. On dusse11’s view that value judgments are persuasive in nature, it would appear that Dewey within his own posi­ tion might find some basis for agreeing with Russell. Yet the appearance is deceiving for when Dewey admits "That the office of moral evaluations is to influence the be­ havior of others through forming in them an intellectual disposition favoring a certain kind of conduct,*' he does not contrast this with the office of scientific statements.

Rather he compares the two. He holds that persuasion is

"limited to the intent and office of evaluative judgments' . and ^/isy not be treated as one constituent along with factual evidential constituents in the subject matter of Z the judgment." In this sense evaluative judgments are not in any way unique or different from scientific judg­ ments, Scientific judgments are equally persuasive in as much as ohey f"unction to bring a weight of evidence upsn the scientific society to accept or reject. "The f-unction

^TofV., p. 51. t*'The Field of ’Value,»", p. 76. ^Ibid. . p. 77. 172 of persuasion and of producing conviction is so far from being peculiar to judgments conventionally recognized to be in the value-field that it is now better ex­ emplified in’scientific’ inquiry and the propositions that resulo from it.In a sense then by extending the persuasive interpretation of evidential propositions to an area where Russell is unv.illing to accept such, D e w e y ’s very agreement wirh this one aspect of Russell’s view on ezhics turns out to be fundamental disagreement in the total context of uheir theories of Imowledge.

I'here is then no chance that Dewey, within the con­ fines of his own position, would come to agreement with Russell’s emotive-persuasive theory of ethics, with its attendant rejection of the possibility of a science of ethics. He stands firmly for the extension of scientific means of inquiry into the value realm, and every aspect of his total philosophy lends itself to this endeavor. Ee admits that the science of ethics has not been actually worked out, and it will not be worked out by philosophical 2 ethical theory. However, when the theoretical foundation has been laid and the requisite work done by practical men of good will, then it v/ill be realized that Dewey was essentially correct when he wrote:

Khowledge of the relation of means and consequences with respect to human desires and purposes, comparable to the knowledge

^"The Field of ’Value,’”, p. 77. ^PofM, p. 178. 175

v:e iiaire of physical causes and effects, is tiie only i-jay in wixicii to "bring social knowledge and actions to an^rtiiing ap- proaciiing wiiat already exists in physical knowledge and power.3.

This is a viewpoint -vdiich is inconsistent wûth Rus­ sell' s considèrent ion of the relationship of science and ethics. Dewey's position can only "be reconciled with Russell's if some \ra.y is found to release Russell from the theoretical conclusions of his ov.n ethica.l philosophy.

^P o f M . p. 1 7 9 . 174

Chapter 8.

An Attemrt to Find within Russell* s Position a

Ba^sis for an Snnirics-l Science of Sthics

Tîxere is th.en no hope of resolving our subjects^ differences over theory of knowledge, and \-/ithin Dewey* s position there is no ground for his agreeing i-.àth Rus­ sell* s rejection of the possibility of a, science of ethics.

The only way of reconciling their divergent views is to denonstra.te the ba.sis for such a science within Russell* s position. The succeeding analysis wi.ll be chiefly in Russell* s own manner. Ths,t such philosophical analysis would have found favor with Dewey is evidenced by his statement ths.t "in the strictest sense, philosophy cannot solve important problems but only those that so arise from different linguistic habits tha.t they can be strai^tened out by analysis.Uot only in this specific statement, but in his following char­ acterization of philosophy as a sharpening and deepen­ ing of the sense of problems^ we c3-n see that if

Russell*s position can be shovm, through philosophical

Reply, " PJD, p. 607; It should be noted that there is no erphasis upon * important, * such that this statement could be interpreted as a pessimistic belittling of philosophy, %bid . 175 analysis, to alloK for a science of ethics, Dewey* s

■ohilosophical outlook does not require more tha.n this.

In his rejection of the possibility of a science of ethics Russell actually has two arguments, as we noted previously. On the one hand he claims that science

is neutral to values. As technique, science alone cannot decide how the te clinique is to be used. It can only tell us how to attain the enc.s that we want, not whether these

end.s are good or bad. The choice of ends from among those which can be achieved “must be decic.ed by other than pare— ly scientific considerations.The other argument, which

is the funda.mental one, is that scientific statements are capable of truth or falsehood because thej’’ refer to facts, while ethical statements do not have such a reference to

facts, and thus are incapable of being either true or

false. Ethical sentences are properly speaking emotive,

expressive, and persuasive. They do not indicate facts,^

and so ethics cannot be a science, i.e. there can be no

ethical knowledge in Russell’s sense of ' knowledge. * k'hen

one makes a statement in the indicative, he e:ipresses a

belief but dioes not assert that he has the belief.^ Ivhat

he asserts is the object of the belief, i.e. the facts

which would make the assertion true, if it were true,^

The Science to Save Us from Science,“ p. 33. >. 257. "Reply," p. 723. II4T. p. 220. 176 Now Russell does not find anything in ethics analogous to the facts of science. He says, "On questions of fact, we can appeal to science and scientific methods of ob8ervation; but on ultimate questions of ethics there seems to be nothing analogous.

Now the apparent absence of a factual reference for value terms leaves ethics in the hands of pez/Qgksion and force. Russell will not allow that ethics can be estab­ lished upon the basis of authoritarian religious dogma or upon some mystical, intuitive revelation. He sees the exhaustive alternatives to be either ethical knowledge from science or agnosticism as to ethical , lead­ ing to the emotive-persuasive poafibion. Thus "if fact can be made the test of the truth of our beliefs anywhere, it should be the test everywhere, leading to agnosticism Q wherever it cannot be applied. " The absence of facts in ethics leads to the lack of general principles concerning values which can be agreed upon by all investigators. In our previous discussion of the nature of science according to Russell we saw that the formulation of general principles to cover particular matters of fact is central in science. Now if there are no basic ethical propositions, there can be no general ethical principles. This follows from Russell*s view that; gHWP, p. 116. ^üceptical Essays, p. 49. Chapter 3, above. 177 In a science, there are two kinds of empirical propositions. There are those con­ cerned with particular matters of fact, and those concerned with laws induced from matters of fact....Thus empirical laws not only depend upon particular matters of fact, but are in­ ferred from these by a process which falls short of logical demonstration.l So the lack of generally agreed upon principles in ethics results from the apparent absence of factual reference in

ethical statements. Russell does not require that general principles in any science field be capable of direct veri­ fication. Principles and laws hold or are true because they adequately express what the particular factual condi­ tions are. Russell may still have a yearning for general principles in ethics which are capable of direct verifica­ tion, but this is a matter of his personal psychological

make-up, not of his theory. He long ago gave up the hope of finding general ethical principles which hold for the world and are capable of verification or support by philo­ sophic methods. This he stated in the Lowell Lectures in the following manner:

...-the hope of demonstrating that the world has this or that desirable ethical characteristic- is not one which, so far as I can see, philosophy can do anything whatever to satisfy. The differ­ ence between a good world and a bad one is a difference in the particular characteristics of g the particular things that exist in these worlds.... Since none of these particular characteristics seem to be

value-fact8, Russell is persuaded that ethics is left

pThe Analysis of Matter, p. 176. OKEW. p. 37. 178 without any basis for .scientific treatment. It is not solely the inability to verify ethical statements that blocks the way to a science of ethics.

Russell is in general willing to admit that proposi­ tions which are unverifiable can be meaningful. In his stand against absolute empiricism he says:

The argument that an unverifiable ex­ istence-proposition, such as those of physics, is unmeaning, is to be rejected. Every con­ stant in such a proposition has a meaning derived from experience. ïüany such propositions- e.g. "the good, when they die, go to heaven" -have a powerful effect both on emotion and on action. Their type of relation to fact, when they are true, is just the same as in the case of verifiable existence-propositions or general propositions.1

General propositions, such as "All men are mortal," are verified by the displaying of an assemblage of basic propositions, "A is mortal," "B is mortal," etc., which 2 are true. It would seem then that ethical propositions or general principles must derive their truth from such a connection with basic propositions. However, if ethical statements do not indicate facts (even about de­ sires), but merely express desires, then there are no basic ethical propositions, and hence no ethical principles capable of verification are possible. As Prof. Chisholm says, "Russell assumes that anything which can be learned from immediate experience and serve as a part of the ulti-

^IMT, p. 382. '=aMd., p. 364. 179 mate foundation of empirical knowledge is capable of being expressed ^^ead: stated or indicated^ in proposi­ tions. Since Russell does not find values presented to immediate experience, and since wbat is presented in

immediate experience, namely desires, are not indicated in an ethical sentence, this leaves ethics without basic propositions. V/ithout basic propositions, ethical gener­ al principles are not capable of scientific treatment. The task, then, is to show how basic ethical statements can be said to have a factual reference within the con­ fines of Russell’s own theory of knowledge. Just as Sant asked ’how are synthetic a priori propositions possible?,’ in order to determine how a science of metaphysics was possible, so we must ask ’how for Russell are basic ethi­

cal propositions possible?,’ in order to determine how a science of ethics is possible for him.

In attempting to answer this question, Morris Weits’s 2 view on the unity of Russell’s philosophy is our guide.

Vv'eitz holds that the central theme running throughout

Russell’s writings is the supremacy of philosophical analysis. Even though the particular conclusions Russell

has arrived at have differed from time to time, the cen­

trality of the method of analysis provides a cohesive bond

throughout the whole of Russell’s work. Mr. V/eitz’s

^Chl'sholmi^'*Russell the Foundations of Empirical 2 Knowledge,” PER, p. 431. Weitz,"Analysis and the Unity of Russell’s Philosophy," PBR, pp. 55-121. 180 position seesia to be shared, by Max Black, who wrote in the Dictionary of Philosophy: Flirtations with realism, neutral monism, or behaviorism have never seriously Interfered with Russell*s attempt to establish philosophy as a science. The empirical data being supplied by the experimental scientist, the specifically philosophical task becomes the analysis of such deliverances (with the full resources of modern logistic).^

The centrality of philosophical analysis in Russell’s writings and it’s extension throughout every aspect of his work was also noticed by Jessie Macpherson, who com­ mented: "Russell’s practical views and his theoretical positions are all of a piece. The status of concepts, mathematical, political, religious, and moral, is to be determined by their freedom from unreasoned as sumptions and their capacity to care for the relevant facts.

Taking the opinions of these three writers as our cue, our task will be to see if there are possibilities latent in Russell’s method of philosophical analysis which he has not explored, but which would provide a basis for a science of ethics.

Weitz holds that the method of analysis has been used by Russell in "four rather distinct ways, in ontology, ab­ stract cosmology, mathematical logic, and in the symbolism

■"■Black, article: "Russell, Bertrand A. V/., " in 2 Dictionary of Philosophy, p. 274. Macpherson,"Bertrand Russell," p. 206, col. I. 181 of science and ordinary life.Analysis for Russell has not been merely a matter of linguistics, according to Weitz, for "Many of Russell * s analyses...are concern­ ed with complexes which are primarily non-linguistic, and therefore have nothing to do with contextual défini- tion." This leads ^r. Weitz to the conclusion that many of Russell’s analyses are of the nature of real défini- g tions of a non-Aristotelian sort. This interpretation of analysis is particularly important to our task of showing analysis to be the key in demonstrating the basis for a science of ethics in Russell. For if analysis were confined by him to merely formal, linguistic usages, then he might say of this present study as he did about the

Socratic dialetical treatment of ethics, that it may help to clarify how we use our words and what they mean. "But when our inquiry is concluded, we have made only a lingu­ istic discovery, not a discovery in ethics. It is not our problem to argue over what is the nature of ethics, but it must be stated that for one who denies ontic objectivity to values, it is difficult to see what distinction is meant by this last remark. If Russell means to say that all did was record how man actually used oV/eitz, op. cit.. p. 57. gibid.! p. 58: '^Tb i d .. p. 111. p. 93. 182

the word * justice, * and that Plato's analysis in no sense hears any claim to having given a logically (dia- lectically) binding analysis of the ethical problem of justice, then this seems to be one more instance of Russell's misunderstanding of Plato. In so far as Russell agrees with Weitz*s view on the presence of real, non-Aristotelian definitions in his own analysis, it v;ould seem that he could not pass off the analysis to follow as being purely linguistic as he did the Socratic dialectical treatment of justice, and in no

sense ethics, where the contrast seems to "be between a

formal and an en^irical discipline. On the other hand he

may have meant that such dialectical analysis has nothing to do with the problem of controlling men's passions and hence is linguistic, not ethical. This objection is ob­ viously circular, since his view of ethics as a lightning rod for the passions^ follows from his denial of indicative function to ethical statements, which linquistic or dialec­ tical analysis could treat. In effect then his rejection

of Socrates* analysis is but a repetition of his denial of the cognitive aspect of ethics. That Russell does agree with Weitz's position is

evidenced in the fact that this particular point does not come up for criticism in his "Reply," which ends, "With

everything else in Mr. Weitz* s essay I am in agreement.

^"Spinoza's Ethics. " in The New Invitation to Learning.p. ^"Reply," PER, p. 686. 183 This means Russell agrees that some of h.ls ontological, cosmological, scientific, and common sense analyses have the character of real, non-Aristotelian definitions. For there are cases of definitions as analyses "Which, because /theyT^ obviously cannot be interpreted as nominal, can be characterized as real definition: namely, the .. .^cases/^ in which the properties of a given complex are enumerated; where .. . ^ " s meanj^ by ‘properties * (1) the elements of a complex, (2) their characteristics, and (s) the relations among them; and by a * complex,‘ a group of facts, which exists independently of the way in which we use lang"uage.

Thus if appropriate analyses of ethical sentences are possible, the resultant propositions embodying the analyses are not barred from serving as the basic propositions re­ quired for there to be a science of ethics. Empirical propositions, when true, are true in virtue of occurrences 2 which are not linguistic. Since non-linguistic analyses are possible in Russell‘s position, it is these to which we must attend if we are to find the basic propositions we look for.

How Just as Russell has engaged in ontological, cosmological, logical, and scientific analysis, and the analysis of the symbolism of ordinary life, his method is equally applicable in axiological analysis. The pattern

^ ei tz, op. cit., p. 111. 2i MT, p. i s :---- 184 would be tbe same as that found in other areas of ana­ lysis. In fact, it might be said that axiological analysis is but a type of analysis of the symbolism of

ordinary life, mentioned above. The words used in ethics are not unlike the usual language of everyday conversation.

Ethical language does not constitute a special, technical vocabulary. In as much as Russell*s method of analysis is applicable to the ordinary symbolism, it is likewise applicable to ethical terms. The language of ethics for Russell no more refers to some transcendent realm than does the words we use to describe tables, chairs, cats, and dogs. The same method of analysis can therefore be applied to all these concepts, yielding axiological analysis when applied to ethical terms.

It is not necessary or possible within the scope of this present discussion to engage in a critical discussion of Russell*8 philosophy of analysis. Expert discussion on thje topic can be found easily by those interested. ^ A simplified sketch, of the nature of analysis is all that is required to demonstrate its applicability to our question.

^See L.S. Stebbing, A Modern Introduction to Logic, 7th edition, ch. 9 and Appendix É; Stebbing, "Constructions, " Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, N.S, vol.34, pp. Iff. ; in the same issue, J. W. Reeves, "The Origin and Consequences of the Theory ojt Descriptions," pp. 211ff.; J. Wisdom, "Logical Constructions," Mind, N.S., vols. 40;188^ 460; 41:441; 42:43, 186, 1931-Ï933; Weitz, on.cit.; and G. ü . Moore, "Russell’s ’Theory of Descriptions,’" in The Pl^losophy of Bertrand Russell, pp. 175ff. Of course Russell’s own writings cited in the text are of prime interest. 185 The technique of pliilosopîiical analysis has gone by many names in Russell’s writings. Weitz prefers to use the term "the resolution of incomplete symbols" to refer to "what Russell has at various stages of his writings called (1) the analysis of denoting phrases, (2) the analysis of incomplete symbols, (5) constructionism, (4) the principle which dispenses with abstractions, and (5) the logical-analytic method.These terms all stand for essentially the same process of analysis in that "they are all names of a technique whereby certain symbols, because they are defective, are replaced by other symbols or groups of symbols."

To consider first analysis as the resolution of in­ complete symbols, we start from the conception of "in­ complete symbols" and "names." An incomplete symbol is

"a symbol which is not supposed to have any meaning in isolation, but is only defined in certain contexts.... Such symbols have what may be called a ’definition in use.’"

Russell offers as a definition of a name: "A name is a

^Weitz, op. cit., p. 92; he footnotes these terms as fol­ lows: (T5 ‘‘On^enoting, " Mnd,1905, p. 479, (2) Prlncipla i^th.. Introduction, Ch. ÏII, (3) M&L, p. 157; OKEW.p.vill; "Logical Atomism," Contemporary British Philosophy, First Series, p. 364, C4) p.44. and 15) OEIEW, p. vll. The page references for Ts) can be standardized as Ch. VIII, section VI, and (4) as p. 51, of the edition in the pre­ sent bibliography, while (5) is from the Preface. gibid. Principla Mathematlca, second edition, p. 66. 186

simple symbol whose meaning is something that can only occur as subject, i.e. something of the kind that...we defined as an * individual' or a ’particular,* And a ’simple * symbol is one which has no parts that are sym­

bols. A name then in contrast to an incomplete symbol, has its meaning "in its own right, independently of the O meanings of all other words." The problem of names is one which Russell has pursued in great detail in another context.^ There are many difficulties involved in a proper theory of names, but for our present purposes it is suf­ ficient to take the simpler view. Names like Tom, Dick,

Harry, Socrates, and England are actually disguised de­

scriptions,^ however, prima facie we can say names "are of two sorts: those that, like...^the above exainples/^ designate some continuous portion of space-time, and those

that have an ego-centric definition, such as *1,* *you,*

’this,* * that.* At one time Russell said that only ’this’ is properly a name, but his later thought has not 7 been quite so definite on the matter.

Disregarding, however, the intricacies of Russell’s later theory of names, we can fix our attention on the important distinction between names and incomplete symbols, particularly definite descriptions. Descriptions are giMP. p. 173. ®IMT, p. 119. gibid.. p. 174. p. 224. ^ÏMT. Ohs. 6 and 7. Ch. 7. p. 179. 187 either indefinite or definite. The former ”is a phrase of the form *a so-and-so, * and a definite description is a phrase of the form 'the so-and-so* (in the singular).”^ Now since all phrases, not propositions,contaiïfcg the word * the * (in the singular) are incomplete symbols, definite descriptions are incomplete symbols. There are instances of descriptions of things which common sense would say are unreal. This raises the pro­ blem of the status of sentences containing such descrip­ tions, For example consider "The round square does not exist." If the subject of this sentence (S) is a proper name, then there must exist some particular, * the round square, * which does not exist. However, this is an ob­ vious contradiction. To assume that the subject of S does not exist offers the puzzling alternative of making a signi­ ficant statement about a non-existent object. Yet on the assumption that the subject of S does not exist, S still is meaningful * S does not mean to be a truism, and in fact it conveys information to us.

Russell says of such cases :

^IMP. p. 167. ^Principla Mathematica. p. 67. 188 Vflb.enever the grammatical subject of a proposition^ can be supposed not to exist without rendering the proposition meaningless, it is plain that the grammatical subject is not a proper name, i.e* not a name directly representing some object. Thus in all such cases, the proposition must be capable of being so analysed tin t what was g the grammatical subject shall have disappeared.

It must be possible then to analyse S so that the

the gramiriatlcal subject will disappear, while still leav­ ing P, the proposition S expresses, as a meaningful pro­ position. This can be done by using Russell’s method of analysing denoting phrases. The crux of this analysis is the distinction between names and denoting phrases, particularly definite descriptions. Hence Russell’s re­ solution of incomplete symbols, his analysis of denoting phrases, and the theory of descriptions are all part of the same view.

"By a ’denoting phrase* I mean, " Russell says, "a phrase such as any one of the following; a man, some man, ...all men, the present King of England, the present King of France....Thus a phrase is denoting solely in virtue 3 of its form. " This last stipulation is important in that it emphasises that a phrase may be denoting, and yet denote nothing.^ We are familiar with the denoting phrases "a so-

^Stebbing, ...Logic, p. 153,points out that strictly speak­ ing only sentences have grammatical subjects. Russell means to stress that not all grammatical subjects of gSentences have corresponding logical subjects of propositons, %Principia Mathematica. p. 66. ^ Q n Denoting," in F e i ^ and Sellars, p. 103, written when 4.there was a King of Englaa d. Ibid. 189 and-so,” vÈilcïi denotes ambiguously. Also "tbe so-and- so," wbicb. we previously mentioned as a definite descript­ ion, is a denoting phrase which usually denotes some de­ finite object. However, it seems strange that a denot­ ing phrase can be said to denote nothing, unless it is borne in mind that "a phrase is denoting solely in virtue of its form. "

However, if there are definite descriptions which are denoting phrases and yet do not denote anything, this must be reconciled with the principle of reducibility to ac­ quaintance*^ This latter is called the "fundamental principle in the analysis of propositions containing de­ scriptions" and states: "Every proposition which we can understand must be composed wholly of constituents with 2 which we are acquainted. " The needed reconciliation is found in the theory of denoting, namely "that denoting phrases never have any meaning in themselves, but that every proposition in whose verbal e^cpression they occur has a meaning."® This means that denoting phrases of the type in question are not names, but rather are incomplete symbols which must receive their

^Stebbing calls attention to the connection between Russell's theory of logical constructions and this principle. See gher article, "Constructions," p. 19. Problems of Philosophy, p. 91; Russell puts this in italics. gSee another formulation of this in M&L.pp. 219-221. "On Denoting,", p. 103. 190 meaning from an analysis of ttie context in which they occur. Russell says that we do not necessarily have acquaintance with that which is denoted by a phrase com­

posed of words with whose meanings we are acquainted*^ This is particularly evident in the case of the object of the description "the round square* " The denial of name status to such definite descriptions that apparently de­ note something, accounts for the fact that we are not acquainted with any round squares, and yet sentences about them can be meaningful. Such phrases as incomplete sym­

bols take on meaning only when used in a sentence. Russell holds that "a denoting phrase is essentially part of a sentence, and does not, like most single words, have any significance on its own account* " The assumption that definite descriptions are names or that they have signi­ ficance on their own account, leads to the puzzles of how a non-existent golden mountain or round square can be meaningfully spoken of, even in a sentence denying their existence*

Thus such things as golden mountains or round squares are not constituents of the propositions about them*® These can be meaningfully spoken of in sentences, just as unicorns and sea-serpents can, "if we know what it would be to be a unicorn or a sea-serpent, i.e. what is the

^ O n Denoting, " p* 103* g b l d ., p* 110. i^eitzr;. op*- cit* . p* 97; M & L* p* 225* 191 definition of th.ese fahnlons monsters. Thus it is only what we may call the concept that enters into...^proposi­

tions about such thing[S^. " Usually a definition in use is what is sought for in interpreting propositions about these "fabulous monsters," but we saw that according to

Weitz * 8 view there are cases where an analysis of a com­ plex yields real definitions in analysing a given descrip­ tive phrase. The theory of descriptions usually seeks a definition of propositions in which the descriptive phrase occurs, thus giving a definition in uae. In any event, the insight of the theory is that in analysing descriptive phrases, it is not a definition of the phrase in isolation 2 that is sought.

To take the famous example "Scott was the author of

Waverley." it will be seen that a proper analysis does not seek to define "the author of Waverley" in isolation.

We are not interested in mere verbal matters which would render an analysis to the effect that "Scott was Scott," or that "The man called *Scott* was the man who was called

* the author of Waverley. * " The former is a tautology, while the statement we are interested in is a significant piece of historical knowledge. In the latter analysis there are two objections. First, we are not interested in a mere linguistic matter, for if we were, it would have

p. 168. *=^T5Td.. p. 172. 192 been sufficient for the truth of "Scott was the author of VJaverlyy, " if he merely had been called "the author of Waverley»" The second objection to the latter analysis is that it involves in itself descriptive phrases of the 1 type in question.

In rendering a proper analysis of descriptive phrases, it comes to light that they "can only be analysed by break­ ing up the descriptive phrases, introducing a variable, and making prepositional functions the ultimate subjects."^

These prepositional functions will define the property that makes something "the so-and-so." Thus it is not the refer­ ent of the denotative or descriptive phrase that is the subject of the proposition, but rather the prepositional function defining the property of the subject. Thus in every proposition which we can understand "all the constitu­ ents are really entities with which we have immediate ac­ quaintance,"^ j_.je. the properties of the subject expressed by the prepositional function which analyses the descriptive phrase. This brings the nature of sentences containing de­ noting phrases back into line with the principle of reduci­ bility to acquaintance, which as we noted above requires that we be acquainted with the constituents of every propo-

^This discussion follows Russell *s "On Denoting. " gM&D. p. 232. O T E , pp. 177-8. On Denoting," p. 114. 193 sition which, we can -understand. Thus, in the case of such fab-ulous monsters as chimeras and sea-serpents, if neither

"are here used as names for particulars, hut in each case a variable is involved, then, since the significance of the sentences for us depends not on acquaintance with the values of the variable but on acquaintance with the pro­ perties defining the class of entities for any one of which it stands, the sentences may well be significant independ­ ently of whether or not there are values for the variable.

The same principle holds for the analysis of "Scott was the author of Waverley, " which we now can finish. V/hile we do not class Scott along with fictitious entities, the situation is the same in that while, loosely speaking,

’Scott* is a proper name, "the author of Waverley" is an incomplete symbol which does not denote any immediate particular. Thus "Scott was the author of Waverley" is interpreted by the theory of descriptions such that the denoting phrase disappears and is replaced by a preposition­ al function defining the properties which make Scott the author of Waverley. This is then the analysis; "One and only one man wrote Waverley. and that man was Scott."

Or in more complete form, "There is an entity c^ such that the statement *% wrote Waverley* is true if x is c^ and false otherwise; moreover is Scott." The first part^

Reeves, "The Origin:. and Consequencer of the Theory of ^Descriptions," p. 218. HVVP. p. 831.

Ï 194

that before *moreover,* defines "The author of V/averley exists," "Thus *The golden mountain does not exist* means: * There is no entity c_ such that *x is golden and

mountainous* is true when x is c_, but not otherwise.

In both instances, allowing we can reverse subject and predicate in the first statement, the grammatical subject has disappeared from the final analysis, being replaced by a prepositional function. The prepositional function describes v/hat it is to be "the so-and-so, " but clearly

shows that "the so-and-so" is a definite description, not

a name.

It is well to stress that according to this theory

* existence* "can only be asserted of descrjÿbipns. We can say *The author of Waverley exists,* but to say *Scott exists* is bad grammar, or rather bad syntax,

This follows from Russell*s position that:"

*true * and *false * are applicable only- except in derivative significations- to •propositions. Thus wherever the ... /words *real* - *'imreal, * * existent* - ^non-existent,* *valid* - * invalid,* which are all derived from the one fundamental pair * true * - *false, can be significantly applied, we must be dealing either with propositions or with such incomplete phrases as only acquire meaning when put into a context which with them ^these pairs of words/^, forms a proposition. Thus such pairs of words can be applied to descriptions, but not to proper names: in other words, they

1m p . p. 831. Ibid. 195 have no application whatever to data, hut only to entities or non-entities described in terms of data.l

This fact about the limited range of the application of

’existence* is hidden from our attention by the use of

what appear to be proper names in a way which, actually

makes them descriptions. An analysis of such statements reveals that it is a description, and not a proper name, v/hich is the subject of the proposition expressed by the

statement. In this way we may si.gnificantly ask whether God exists. However, "then ’God’ means ’the Supreme

Being’ or ’the ens realissimum* or whatever other descrip­ tions we may prefer. If ’God’ were a proper name, God would have to be a datum; and then no question could arise as to His existence.

While the application of the theory of descriptions

or the resolution of incomplete symbols is most often concerned with contextual nominal definition, we stated previously that there are instances where it yields real definitions of a non-Aristotelian sort. The former appli­ cation of the theory of descriptions cannot be said to be irrelevant to the problem of finding a basis in Russell’s

^Mysticism and Logic, pp. 174-5. This might better read: '^only to descriptions of entities or non-entities, given in terms of data.” For a criticism of and alternative to Russell’s view, see G. E. Moore, ”Is Existence a Predi­ cate?,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, supp. 2vol. 15, 1936, pp. 175-188. MScL. p. 175. 196 position for basic etiiical propositions, yet we must bear in mind that Russell mlgbt say tbat such, was a matter of linguistics, not etblcs. Actually we bave sbown that even such analyses as these we have been considering involve a reference to data within our acquaintance, and so they cannot be called purely linguistic. Further, it could well be contended that an accurate linguistic ana­ lysis of ethical statements is certainly a legitimate part of ethics, since such shows us what we actually mean by our ethical statements and provides an accurate analysis of the meanings of various ethical terms in various con­ texts .

Yet the total philosophy of analysis as the resolu­ tion of incomplete, symbols includes logical construction­ ism, which certainly does involve an existential exmpirical component. The "supreme maxim in scientific philosophising" states that "Wherever possible, logical constructions are to be substituted for inferred entities."” Now according to V/eitz, "Russell means by a logical construction the substitution of a symbol whose denotation is given in sense- experience or is continuous with and similar to something given in sense experience for a symbol whose denotation is neither given in sense-experience nor is similar to and continuous with something given in sense-experience but

^M&L. p. 155. 197 is postulated as an un empirical. Inferred entity.

Thus a logical construction definitely has empirical

import and is not purely linguistic.

Novr Russell does not accept the usual way of inter­

preting the "things" which are the subject matter of science. The common view has been to assume that the real thing is something underlying and subtending the appearances which come within empirical observation, be­

cause a thing cannot very well be identified with any of its appearances. Russell*s position, on the other hand, holds "that we should identify the thing with the class

of its appearances. It is not necessary to deny a sub­ stance underlying these appearances; it is merely expedi- „2 ent to abstain from • asserting this unnecessary entity. This is an expression of the principle of abstraction which holds that:

When a group of objects have that kind of similarity which we are inclined to attri­ bute to possession of a common quality, the principle... shows that membership of the group will serve all the purposes of the supposed common quality , and. that therefore, unless some common quality is actually known, the group or class of similar objects may be used to replace the common quality, which need not be assumed to exist.3

The emphasis in logical constructionism upon substituting

^eitz, op. cit., pp. 65-6. p. 155; italics on ^class* not in original. S ô m w . p. 51. 198 a class of objects for a supposed common property is the the. same as the conclusion of ^theory of descriptions that not names, indicating data, but prepositional functions de­ fining the properties of the denoting phrase are the actual constituents of definite descriptions. Constructionism plays a very important role in the philosophy of science in interpreting the proper signi­ ficance of scientific propositions. Quite often we have a body of scientific statements that "have a certain kind of practical or emotional significance...which is a datum, but the logical significance is not a datum, but a thing to be sought, and you go through... these propositions with a view to finding out what is...the smallest apparatus, not necessarily wholly empirical...out of which you can build up these propositions.The technique of logical constru^-

/tions in Russell*s philosophy provides this apparatus for the various sciences, especially physics where the re­ lationship between the body of propositions and the data is not always readily apparent. This does not mean that

Russell recites physics, but nthat within the structure of the body of physical statements he provides an inter­ pretation which demonstrates in what manner these state­ ments can have an empirical reference.

Thus logical constructions do not replace the "real"

Quoted by Weitz, op. cit., p. 103, from Russell*s "Philo­ sophy of Logical Atomism. 199 data of physics by arbitrary constructs or fictitious

entities. The statement that tables are logical con­

structs is an interpretation by the theory of logical constructionism of those physical statements which seem to be about tables, while we cannot admit that there are any tables subsisting in the physical realm. Susan Steb- bing says of the unfortunate phrase "logical fictions," which Russell has used as synonymous with "logical con­ structions";^ There is nothing fictitious about a logical construction. To say that tables are logical constructions is not to say that tables are fictitious, or imaginary, or in any way unreal. It is...to say something about the way in which we must use the v/ord "tables in any expression expressing a proposition about tables.2

It is well to note that she says *must use, * indicating that this is not an arbitrary linguistic device. She should have added to her statement that this is the way in which we must use the word "tables" in any significant express­ ion of a proposition about tables. If we do not choose to make significant statements, we can use our words in any manner we wish. In the sense that it is arbitrary whether or not we make sense, the theory of logical con­ structionism is arbitrary, but in no other sense is it.

Thus the whole philosophical analysis of the resolu-

, pp. 181—2. Stebbing, ...Logic, p. 158. 200 tion of incomplete symbols can be applied to tbe entire range of bnman experience, including ethical experience, yielding analyses which are not solely linguistic, but which have a binding force for those who are not deaf to the claims of clear thinking. It is not an arbitrary whim of Russell * s that he propounded the theory of des­ criptions and showed its applicability and importance.

Hence Weitz says:

Classes, numbers, relations (in extension), points, instants, particles of matter, even ordinary objects, like tables and people, were dealt 7/ith in the same way as descriptions ; each of these was reduced from an actual entity to an incomplete symbol which could be interpreted in terms of propositional functions and variables or sensible ob- jects.l

To take an example from what would be called common sense^ namely the problem of memory, "what Russell means when he talks about the analysis of memory. ..is primarily the enumeration of the properties of a given complex which we call * memory, * but which does not depend for its ex- o istence upon the fact that it is called ‘memory. * "^Like­ wise Russell*s method of analysis can be used for axiology.

The analysis of value would consist primarily in the _ enumeration of the properties of the complex we call "val­ ue, " but which also does not depend for its existence upon

^Y/eitz, op. cit.. p. 94.See also his article "Philosophy and the Abuse of Language," Journal of Philosophy, v. 44, „#2, Sept. 25, 1947, p. 534. ^Ibid.. p. 116. 201 our calling it "value," It is ttiis aspect of analysis which according to Weitz yields real definitions of a non-Aristotelian sort. Direct evidence can be found in

Russell’s writings to support the contention that such

real definitions, which have a claim to being the cor­ rect analysis, can be given in ethics. There it is

that he says: "We come a little nearer to a correct view when we define right conduct by the motive or state of mind of the agent, and again: "...to define ^£the goo^ as the desired is a first step towards a correct defini­

tion,

Stebbing says that "The importance of Russell’s theory of incomplete symbols is that it makes us see how

indirect is the reference of the sentences we use to the facts we seek to .refer to in using them," It is this function of the theory which makes it important in a bio­ logical analysis and which indicates that it can be used as a basis within Russell’s own position for providing a means of arriving at basic ethical propositions such as are required by him for there to be a science of ethics,

Russell is quite aware that ethical sentences do not state that we have certain desires, nor do they refer to a property value which subsists in the universe. Ethical

^P^losophy, p, 229; italics not in original, 2^eply.^ RBR, p. 722; italics not in original, 38tabbing, , , ,Logic, p, 502, 202 sentences seem to refer to facts so indirectly that Rus­ sell does not hold that ethical statements have any in­ dicative capacity, hut only emotive and persuasive use.

However, the theory of descriptions provides a tool of analysis hy which the reference of ethical terms, indirect and remote though such may be, can be shown clearly to be accessible to experience. And the axiological usage of the theory of descriptions does not require the sup­ port of non-empirical or imaginary objects in order that ethical statements might be meaningful. This aspect of

the application of analysis in ethics is entirely con­

sistent with Russell*s view that it is necessary to pre­

serve a "robust sense of reality" and not to invent all sorts of imaginary objects in order to give an account

of denoting phrases.^

In support of axiological analysis it would seem fair to turn this canon against Russell*s own view that ethical statements are purely emotive and persuasive. If it is an argument against Meinong*s analysis of "the golden mountain" to say that his view violates a "robust sense of reality, " and thus some view must be found which fits 2 our sense of reality, it is a legitimate argument to say we must reject the emotive-persuasive theory of ethics gIMP. pp. 169-170. Ibid. 203 "because it likewise violates our sense of reality.^

Most people would find tiieir sense of reality injured if they were told that when they say "murder is wrong, " this is merely an expression of disgust at murder, made in a tone of voice intended to persuade others not to commit murder. They feel that they are saying more than this* They are inclined to hold that they are making a statement about certain characteristics of the world which are thus and so, and which make their statement true. Now without arguing the desire theory of value, upon that theory’s own terms "murder is wrong” is not saying anything about the ontic status of the value of murder, since values have no such status. Yet granted for the moBient that people were persuaded to accept the desire theory, even upon that theory they would hold that their sense of reality was violated hy the emotive-persuasive theory of value judgments. If values are satisfied desires, then value judgments tell us something about the satisfaction of desire, they would be inclined to think. Yet Russell’s position seems to relegate value judgments to emotive- persuasive capacity, because they do not indicate that we have certain desire-satisfaction, but only express such,

^Russell says of his own view; "...in feeling I am not satisfied. I can only say that, while my own opinions as to ethics do not satisfy me, other people’s satisfy me still less. " (’’Reply," PER, p. 724.) 204 The layman in ph.ilosoph,y is defenseless against Russell*s arguments along these lines. The layman*s sense of reality is violated, but he does not know of any way to provide an analysis of value statements that would avoid the view.

Of course if no analysis can be given to avoid Meinong^s position or if none can be given to avoid the emotive- persuasive theory of ethics, we must accept either or both hoT/ever much we dislike them. But Russell did provide an analysis that accounts for "the golden mountain" without violating our sense of reality. And the theory of descrip­ tions provides in similar manner a factual reference for value terms, which like the now famous mountain do not seem to have such reference.

The argument we must examine, then, is that ethical terms are incomplete symbols. They do not having meaning in isolation but only in sentences where the denoting phrases or definite descriptions intended to refer to values can be analysed according to the theory of des­ criptions or logical constructionism. If there can be meaningful sentences about golden mountains which do not refer to golden mountains, because these do not exist and cannot be data, likewise there can be meaningful sentences about values. Granted that values do not exist and can­ not be data. Granted that desire-satisfactions are the existential basis of values. Granted that ethical : 205 sentences do not report desire—satisfaction. JXone the less a proper philosophical analysis vronld render value judgments meaningful indicative statements, just as an analysis of "the golden mountain" reveals that it refers

to elements within our experience.

It is only the ironical twist of the immediate pre­

sence of desire in both our thinking about values and in "values themselves" which makes the emotive-persuasive theory seem so compelling in the absence of a suitable analysis. A psychoanalyst talking to a patient who mumbled about golden mountains would not have arrived at

Russell’s theory. Rather the analyst would have said that the man was expressing his mentalr.3ta.te about the lack of a gold standard for our currency, because the depression wiped out his fortune. This illustration is not intended to be a humorous jab at Russell’s ethical theory. %t does stress the point that if a formal ana­ lysis other than his own^ can be given on Russell’s terms, his resorting to the emotive-persuasive interpret ion of ethics has no more philosophical import than the psycho­ analyst’s interpretation of"the golden mountain."

To bring across the gist of the argument that ethical terms are incomplete symbols, let us see what happens when the word "ethics" and related words are substituted in a

^R&S, Ch. 9. 206 statement about the application of logical constructionism to physics. Russell’s statements at the beginning of chapter 8 of Mysticism and Logic would then read; ^Tf ethics is to b^" an empirical science, based upon observation and experiment ^ it must supposed to be verifiable, i.e. capable of calculating beforehand results subsequently con­ firmed by observation and experiment. ïûiat can we learn by observation and ex­ periment? Nothing, so far as ^^ethics^^ is concerned, except immediate data of sense: certain patches of colour, sounds, tastes, smells, etc., with certain spatio-temporal relations. The supposed contents of the ^^thicalJT' world are prima facie very different from these: ^yalues/^ have no colour. /ought makes]7 no noise, ^good has/ no taste, and /injustice does]7 not even smell. If such objects /read: things/ are to be verified, it must be solely through their relation to sense-data: they must have some kind of corre­ lation with sense-data, and must be verifiable through their correlation alone. But how. is the correlation itself ascertained? A correlation can only be ascertained empirically by the correlated objects being constantly found together. But in our case, only one term of the correlation, namely, the sensible term, is ever found: the other term seems essentially incapable of being found. Therefore, it would seem, the correlation with objects of sense, by which/ethic^ was to be verified, is itself utterly and forever unverifiable.1

Russell offers two ways of avoiding this result. On the one hand we may be in possession of some principle a priori which would supply the needed connection. But to the extent that we depend upon such a principle, our science is not empirical, and so this alternative is to be avoided as far as is possible. This corresponds to the rejection

^M&L. pp. 145-6. 207 of intuitively given a priori ethical principles, which he has made. To what extent we may have to accept certain 1 a priori principles will be seen later. However, these will be a priori in Russell*s own sense if we need to rely on such. This is the sense in which "the experience which makes us think of . . .^the principle^^ does not suffice to prove it, but merely so directs our attention that we see its truth without requiring any proof from exper- 2 ience." Thus the principle of non-contradiction is a priori in that experience suggests it to us, since we can­ not conceive of any logic or language, as a type of logic, without it. Yet our experience does not in any way prove the principle, since in fact all proof pre­ supposes the principle of non-contradiction.

The other alternative Russell suggests to our dilemma is this*

We may succeed in actually defining the objects of /Ethics/as functions of sense-data. Just in so far as /ethics/pleads to expectations, this must be possible, since we can only expect what can be ex­ perienced. And in so far as the /^ethical/Pstate of

^See p. 2 3 1 Jjelow. ^Problems of Philosophy* p. 116. Compare Mill's comment tiiat the principle of utility is not capable of proof in the strict sense. Yet "There is a larger meaning of the word proof....Considerations may be presented capable of determining the intellect either to give or withhold its assent...; and this is equivalent to proof." See this next to the last paragraph in chapter 1 of Utilitarianism, and compare what he says at the beginning of chapter 4* 208 affairs is inferred from sense-data, it must be capable of expression as a function of sense-data. The problem of accomplishing this expression leads to much interesting logico-mathematical work.l

The interesting logico-mathematical work Russell en­

gages in is the theory of logical constructionism, which

we have already discussed. This theory could just as well exhibit the terms of ethics as constructs from sense- data, as it exhibits the terms of physics in the same way.

The transference of a method that has proved itself in a given science field over to the resolution of a philosophic

problem is entirely in keeping with Russell * s professions. He has said, ”Rhat I wish to bring to your notice is the possibility and importance of applying to philosophical problems certain broad principles of method which have been ' »• ^ found successful In tlae study of scientific questions.

Hence the application of the theory of descriptions to ethical analysis would reveal the terms of ethics to be not proper names, referring directly to sense-data, but rather disguised descriptions which can only be inter­ preted as incomplete symbols. 3 —, We previously saw that nussell would hold the sen­ tence "God exists" can be meaningfully interpreted as an incomplete symbol, rather than a name. Likewise ethical

^M&L. p. 146. glbid.. p. 98. Above, p. 195. , 2 0 9 sentences, sucii as "Goodness exists,” or ”Th.e good ex­ ists," or "The good are rewarded, the had punished," can he shown to have meaning if interpreted as incomplete symbols. According to Russell these sentences merely ex­ press certain feelings of the speaker in his attempt to persuade people to act in such and such a manner. "Good­ ness" or "the good" are not names for if they were, then goodness or the good would have to he data. Since aban­ doning G. E. Moore * s position in Principia Ethica Russell has been convinced that values are not immediately pre- 1 sented in experience, so value terms cannot he names.

"Goodness exists" must then he interpreted as "The satisfaction of desire exists." This is capable of being interpreted as "There are entities a, h, c, ...z^ such that the statement *x satisfies someone* is true if x is a or h or c...or z^ and false otherwise." "The good exists" would he likewise interpreted in terms of a pro- positional function-Which replaces the subject of the sentence which apparently has the good as its subject. "The good are rewarded, the bad are punished" would be analysed as: //"*x is good and x is rewarded* and *y is bad and y is punished* " is sometimes true, and for all values of x and y, x is not equivalent in truth value to

^Russell says: "INhen a man says, *This is good in itself, * he seems to be making a statement, just as much as if he said, *This is square,* or *This is sweet.* I be­ lieve this to be a mistake, ** (R&S, p. 247.) 210

y,// Or In a more complete form: //“Tiiere are entities a, "b, such that the statements (*x satisfies someone* and ’x is rewarded*) and (*y dissatisfies

someone* and *y is punished*) are true if x is a or b or c...or and if y is a or b or c...or z^ and if for all values of x and y, x is not equivalent in truth value to y, " and false otherwise^/

This is a very complex analysis and may seem to strain that sense of reality we were previously talking about. It is not intended that one should accept the

above analysis as being what one consciously means when he utters the ethical judgments considered. No more is it the case that a complex philosophical analysis is in

the ordinary person * s mind when he passes an ethical judgment than when he says "The table is brown," or "The table is in front of the chair." Yet just as Russell holds that such physical objects as tables and chairs

must be demonstrated to be constructs from ,

so one could interpret the theory of logical construc­

tions to cover the objects of ethics. In ordinary life experience one speaks freely and loosely of many "the so- and-so *s, " without going through a detailed logical ana­

lysis. But if "the âo-sand-so *s" are going to be treated in an empirical science, v/hether physics or ethics, their relationship to sense data must be established. If the view that they are immediately presented in experience is 211

rejected, their stat'as as logical constructions and the

status of their symbolic expression as incomplete sym­ bols must he recognized.

Once more substituting the terms of ethicB in a statement of Russell’s, this time about mathematical ana­

lysis employing the theory of descriptions, we can make our present point.

The symbols for ^^alues/^, like those for descriptions, are, in our system, incomplete symbols: their uses are defined, but they themselves are not assumed to mean anything at all. That is to say, the uses of such symbols are so defined that, v;hen the défini ens is substituted for the définiendum. there no longer remains any symbol which could be supposed to represent a ''/value/'. Thus /values/^, so far as we can ^^iscuss/them, are merely symbols or linguistic conveniences, not ^ genuine objects as...if they are individuals.

Russell expresses this better, particularly the last

sentence, when in Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy

he states, and once more the appropriate substitution of

ethical for mathematical terms is made :

We must seek a definition ^of "valuejj7 on the same lines as the definition of descriptions, i.e. a definition which will assign a meaning to propositions in whose verbal or symbolic expression words or symbols apparently repre­ senting ^^alues7 occur, but which will assign a meaning that altogether eliminates all men­ tion of fi*om a right analysis of such propositions. We shall then be able to say that the symbols for Rvalues/^ are mere con­ veniences, not representing objects called Z"values. and that Rvalues/ are in fact. ^Principia ^thematica, pp. 71-2. 212 like descriptions, logical fictions, or (as we say) "incomplete symbols."1

Here ’values* can be understood to mean both, all value terms and the object they supposedly denote, depending upon whether the definiens or the défini endum is being 2 discussed, V/e previously noted that this position does not mean that classes, which were discussed in the ori­ ginal passages, or values are fictitious or in any sense unreal. The theory under consideration, in its various aspects, means to show the proper interpretation of sentences containing value terms and to demonstrate what is the complex which is actually referred to by the in­ complete symbols in question.

Since Russell holds that all empirical statements contain object words or dictionary words defined in terms 3 of them, and since according to him no ethical words are object words, it appears that an empirical science of ethics would be impossible. If ethical terms could be object words, then they would have to fulfill certain conditions.^ Their meaning must be capable of being learnt by confrontation with objects which are what they mean. But Russell rejects his previous acceptance of

Moore’s Principia Ethics view. Second, if ethical words gIMP, pp. 181-2; italics not in original. „See above pp. 199. . IMT , p . 33 . Ibid.. pp. 28-9. 213 could be object words, tîaey would not presuppose other words. iiach by itself could express a whole proposition,

so that "'goodJ " would have to mean "This is good. " But

"this" is a proper name and hence must indicate some particular, which brings us back to the first point

above. "Indeed," Russell says, "in the case of many ob- ject-words, it must be strictly impossible to say what

they mean, except by tautology, for it is with them that language begins. You can only explain (say) the word

’red’ by pointing to something red."

If ’good* were to be considered an object word, ac­ cording to Russell * 8 view it would have to be interpreted

as purely persuasive and emotive. The second criterion,

above, vfould seem to allow this, and the first likewise,

if ’good* meant * satisfaction of desire-here.’ However, while we must admit the imperative function of most words,

"they cannot fulfil their function of causing action in

the hearer except in virtue of the indicative character of object-words. Suppose I say ’run!’ and the person addressed consequently runs; this happens only because the word ’run’ indicates a certain type of action....We may say, in this case, that the kind of noise in question is 2 the name of the kind of movement in question. " If value terms are purely emotive and persuasive, and yet in order pIICT, p . S9 * ^Ibid.. pp. 31-2. 214 to be so must have some indicative character, this seems to be a paradox. Value terms would then seem to have to be names, according to the last sentence quoted, but we have previously said that this is not the case. If what is indicated by value terms is the present state of the speaker, then this indicative function of value terms must be by inference along, according to Russell, since they do not directly indicate the state of the speaker. He is willing to admit that what is expressed and what is indicated may be the same if the present state of the speaker is in question,^ but he claims value judg­ ments do not mean to indicate the state of the speaker. In view of Stebbing*s comment that the value of the theory of descriptions is that it shows how indirect our usage of terms is to the objects they refer to, the remoteness of the state of the speaker from the value terms is no barrier to the contention that such terms must be inter­ preted as incomplete symbols. The analysis of ethical terms according to the theory of descriptions is not an inferential process, since data outside the logical struct­ ure of ethical sentences and referring to the personal traits of the speaker are not employed. Yet a proper ana­ lysis of ethical assertions does reveal their reference to empirically verifiable events. Under such an interpretation, value terms would be

IMT. p. 269. 215 related to perception, and ethics could then qualify, in theory, as an empirical science. Russell says!

all knowledge which is in any degree necessarily dependent upon perception I shall call * empirical,* I shall regard a piece of knowledge as necessarily dependent upon perception when, after a careful analysis of our grounds for believing it, it is found that among these grounds there is the cognition of an event in time arising at the same time as the event or very shortly after it, and fulfilling certain further criteria v/hich are necessary in order to distinguish perception from certain kinds of error. 1

The analysis of ethical terms by the theory of descrip­ tions and logical constructions would provide the re­ quisite empirical reference to qualify ethics as an empirical science.

The occurrence of ethical words which are to be in­ terpreted as descriptions v/ould of course have to be distinguished in their primary and in their secondary 2 occurrence* It would not be an empirical proposition, but rather a formal, linguistic proposition, to say "’The good exists* is true." This sentence is certainly sig­ nificant, but it is no:: more an empirical proposition in ethics, than "*One plus one is two* is true" is a mathematical proposition. Russell would certainly admit that sentences in which "the good" had a secondary occur­ rence, as above, were possible, could be significant, and sometimes true. However, only an analysis by the theory o^^alysis of Matter, pp. 175-6. IMP, p, 179; also Principia Mathematica. pp. 68-9. 216 of descriptions reveals that "the good" when it has a priinary occurrence, e.g. "The good exists," can be a part of a significant proposition, capable of empirical verification.

The particular analyses offered so far may not bè acceptable to Russell, and they most certainly are not acceptable to thoscpersons who do not accept the desire theory of value. It can only be said here that obviously no defense of the desire theory of value has been made in our analysis, nor was any Intended. It is a fact that Russell defines "value" as "satisfaction of desire."

His own confessed limitations upon this definition were noted in the extended discussion of his ethical position.^

Certainly he does not mean his definition to be the "real" definition of "value," except in the sense of real defini­ tion that Weitz holds Russell^s position entails, viz., enumeration of the qualities of the complex for which the word "value" is used. Russell appears merely to offer consensus gentium for his definition of "value," and the implication seems to be that there is no further basis for arriving at a definition than agreement, con­ trolled by the requirements that the definition help, rather than hinder communication and that it be faithful

^See Ch. 5, pp. 65 ff., above* 217

to our cornmon experience of the def ini endum» However,

to discuss the desire theory of value beyond this poin^c broaches a question of disagreement betvreen Russell

and others over the nature of value. The general metho­ dological problem of interpreting value terms, within Russell'8 frame of reference, as incomplete symbols is our concern, not the differences between Russell and others.

As with the desire theory of value, no attempt to criticise or defend the general theory of descriptions vfill be attempted, since its application within Russell’s

own position is the question at issue. It is true that, as Ernest Ragel says, "Russell’s writings on the philoso­

phy of science exhibit one persistent feature: his expli­

citly avowed use of the maxim *Wherever possible, sub­

stitute constructions out of known entities for infer­

ences to unknown entities,* a maxim which...he calls ’the 2 supreme maxim of scientific philosophising.*" Nagel

comments that this principle is one "of caution and econ­ omy, and the techniques which implement it cannot by

themselves help to decide what ’exists* and what does not. Those techniques assume that certain entities and

"'"See Weitz, op. cit. and Stebbing, .. .Logic, pp. 440 and 507, for a discussion of these points. The reader is re­ minded that Russell expressed his agreement with Y/eitz*s gViews. See also Principia Nathematica. pp. 11-12. ^agel, "Russell*s Philosophy of Science," PER, p. 319. This is in agreement of course with Weitz * s interpretation. 218 relations are in some sense 'given.Tiiis means tliat the theory of descriptions, in the narrow designation of the phrase, is a formal theory and as such can be apolied to any problem area where issues of the philos­ ophy of science are in question. Our usage assumes

Russell’s position regarding value, as some given sub­ ject matter is necessarily presupposed in using the theory. Yet unless Russell rejected his own view on value, there is no basis for objection to using the theory in axiology.

The general theory of descriptions while having a purely formal aspect, is not restricted solely to formal analysis devoid of empirical reference. As Max Black has put the mattqr, "The shift from the consideration of logical to that of non-logical or material words corres­ ponds exactly to the line drawn...between the theory of descriptions and the doctrine of logical constructions p ...." Black further states : "That the theory of des­ criptions can be construed as a method of logical trans­ lation, capable of justification independently of adher­ ence to any disputable epistemology, is a point that is commonly overlooked by critics. The theory of descrip­ tions must be admitted as a tool of axiological analysis gwagel, "Russell’s Philosophy of Science," PBR. p. 325. gBlack, "Russell’s Philosophy of Language," PBR. p. 244. Ibid.. p. 242. 219 and any criticism of its use in axiology must be focused

on tile elements of analysis as logical constructionism

which are expressed by material words. Thus Black qualifies his statement by saying that "Only if appeal to some philosophical principle is involved in verifying the truth of any...proposed translation will it be neces­

sary to deny that the method is epistemologically neutral* The philosophical principle involved in the proceeding analysis would be that of the desire theory of value, and here would be where the controversy would center, however, we have already discussed this issue. The analysis of ethical sentences according to the

theory of descriptions in the manner illustrated is entirely in keeping with Russell's own professions and practices. He has said that "The only matter concerned with ethics that I can regard as properly belonging to philosophy is the argument that ethical propositions should be expressaiin the optative mood, not in the indi- cative." If this is legitimately a concern of philoso­ phy, so is the present analysis, for it is of the same - type as Russell's arguments for the emotive-persuasive theory. Surely he does not mean that it is only his

specific conclusions which have a place in philosophy.

The type of problem v/hich is under consideration here is

^Black, "Russell’s Philosophy of Language," PBR, p. 243; ^italics not in original. """Reply," PBR. p. 719. 220 exactly tlie same as Russell’s, even though, we come to a different conclusion* It is the form or type of a problem which qualifies it as philosophic, and not the particular conclusions any given philosopher espouses. In his own practice Russell has engaged in analyses of the kind given here in support of the present position.

He has not as clearly expressed what he is engaging in when he makes such analyses as we have in our presenta­ tion. Yet the proce^dure is the same and lends support to the detailed explanation previously given. Thus it is that, for example, in considering the ethical problem

of the "ought," Russell has engaged in analysis of the

same type as that offered earlier here. He states : Perhaps the best way to approach the sub­ ject of ethics is to ask what is meant when a person says: ’You ought to do so-and-so’ or ’I ought to do so-and-so’. Primarily, a sentence of this sort has an emotional content; it means ’ this is the act -towards which I feel the emo­ tion of approval’. '"1

Here the resolution of "ought" into a phrase which has an immediate reference in experience follows the same form of analysis as tha.t explained above.

Russell has not adhered consistently to one analysis of "ought," but they have all followed the general pattern of analysis used in this present chapter. The term "ought, " which has no immediate reference in experience, is explained or analysed in terms of experiences which are objective or

^Philosophy, p. 226. 221

capable of objectification. îlius in History of Western Philosopby "ought” is analysed as "what the speaker wishes ne to desire."1 In Authority and the Individual

"oughtness" is analysed in ÿerms of "a sense of moral

compulsion to fulfil...creative impulses, and a sense

of moral exaltation when.. .^[such has been doneT". ” Here "moral” may be taken as an adjective describing a certain quality of experience, and nothing more, equivalent in nature to an emotion of fear, hope, despair, and so forth.

And in "Good and Bad," "ought," is defined as equivalent to "right." Thus "*Right * conduct is conduct which pro­ motes the general good.... it must be supplemented by methods of inducing me to do what is right.... the problem is one of influencing my desires. In all these analyses the incomplete ethical symbol "ought" is given a meaning in terms of aspects of experience that can be said to be immediate and present to certain observers in certain cir­ cumstances. Russell in the examples given here does not, it is true, explicity state the theory and application of analysis in ethics. Yet it is quite obvious that what in fact he has done, if only in an informal manner, is engage in the same type of axiological analysis previously offered as a basis within his position for a science of pSïïP, p. 116. p. 112. ^G&B. p. 6. 222 etîiics. This analysis of ethical judgments, which showed that they have a factual reference to certain psychological events, does not necessarily go counter to hussell's position on propositional attitudes. A propositional attitude- "believing, desiring, dou"bting, etc^ - is expressed by a sentence, but the sentence, if true, in­ dicates a fact other than the propositional attitude. Russell has denied all indicative capacity to value sentences, but upon the desire theory of value, the re­ solution of value terms as incomplete symbols shows that there are certain cases where the state of the speaker, j..e_. the propositional attitude, is the very fact indica­ ted, however indirectly. Russell’s explicit statement that "The fundamental facts...in all ethical questions

2 _ “ ■ are feelings" supports this conclusion. J-t seems that

Russell would admit this apparent exception to the stand that the fact indicated by a true sentence is other than the propositional attitude. In Human knowledge he says that the fact in question "is in general distinct from the belief," the propositional attitude. This seems to allow for cases where the fact and belief are not distinct. A more advanced psychology might find physio- i i m , p. 22. -Justice in "^/ar-Time, p. 19. p. Ill; italics not in original. 223 logical conditions wiiicli are tiie facts wdich propositional attitudes express, and hence it would be those condi­ tions which a complete analysis would reveal as the

facûs referred to in ethical judgments. This must re­ main a speculation, however, at the present state of psychology.

That Russell would offer no theoretical objection

to the viev/ that the "objective" factual situation which

renders ethical statements capable of truth may be "'sub­ jective" states of experience is evidenced by the fol­

lowing remark of his. He comments that there are those "who maintain that ’introspection^ is not a valid scient­

ific method, and that nothing can be scientifically known

except what is derived from public data. This view seems to me so absurd that if it were not widely held I should ignore it^ but as it has become fashionable in various circles I shall state my reasons for rejecting it.After stating such reasons, he concli^s "that there is knowledge of private data, and that there is no reason why there 2 should not be a science of them. "

This science he refers to is psychology, and thus it would have to be admitted that the science of ethics might when actualized be recognized as a branch of

p. 45. Ibid.. p. 48, See also IMT, p. 74. 224 psychology.^ Russell v;ould object to this and say that 2 ethics is not psychology. To discuss this aspect of the problem would require too great an;, analysis, so it can only be indicated that if he means this as an

historical statement, he is of course correct. But if he means that the problems of what has been called tradi­

tionally ’ethics’ cannot be dealt with by an advanced psychology, this is a matter which the theory presented here seems to deny and which time alone can decide. The position Russell takes that expressions of ulti­

mate values can only be decided by appeal to force, since value judgments are only emotive-persuasive, and that hence there is no way in which the facts of ethics can be altered except by force, is not in itself damning to the possibility of a science of ethics. For it must be point­

ed out that in no acientlfic field is the question of the truth or falsity of the facts at issue. Pacts just occur.

It is propositions about the facts that aretrue or false,

^If this were the case, it would be but another instance of what Russell has recognized as a general tendency that "as soon as definite knowledge concerning any subject becomes possible, this subject ceases to be called philo­ sophy, and becomes a separate science."(Problems of QPhilosonhv. p. 240). This is evident from his discussion in Religion and Science, p. 249. That he might regard the previous analysis to be- psychology, not ethics, would seem to follow from his statement; "There are various problems as regards language. First, there is the problem what actually occurs in our minds when we use language with the intention of meaning something by it; this problem belongs to psychology." ("Introduction," Vi/lttgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philoso- phicus. p. 7). See also Power, p. 257. 225 as the case may he. This Russell would agree to, and we have already seen he also would hold that the function of science is to huild up a body of true propositions and formulate general principles based upon these. To say that the ultimate facts of a science of ethics are such That they cannot be changed except by force is generally true about any science field.

The issue is really over the ultimate nature of 1 ethical disagreement, as to whether differences in belief or in attitude are fundamental in ethics. Even though Russell has chosen the latter alternative, this still does not foreclose the way to a Theoretical science of ethics. Russell recognizes the distinction betvreen

Theoretical and practical science, the former being "an attempt to understand the world, " the latter "an attempt to change the w o r l d . Limited though man's rational powers be, Russell still believes that theoretical science has a controlling influence in practical science. The conclusions of theoretical science limit the range of applicability of practical science. If theoretical know­ ledge does not have complete efficacy in ethical matters

^See C . L. Stevenson, "The Nature of Ethical Disagreement," in readings in Philosophical Analysis, Peigl and Sellars, editors^ pp. 587ff. See also his Ethics and Language for pa fuller discussion. h o t , p. 492. 226 where passions run hot, this is no different than the complete helplessness of reason in any science field when confronted by blind, prejudiced, irrational con­ viction. Russell says the difference between ethics and

science is not as important as is usually thought, for

science too is persuasive in nature. Science, however, appeals to evidence, not to emotionsIt has been shown that ethical statements have an evidential aspect also, and it is only the intimate association of ethics v/ith hnman feelings that makes a science of ethics peculiarly difficult. For as Russell says, when science gets into questions involving human passions, theoretical methods are usually inadequate. "Nevertheless, the detached scientist, if hé exists, may , neglected and alone, per­ sist in applying scientific methods even to questions that rouse passions»"

Russell's view that the irrational factors in ethics are so great that rational control of man's actions is impossible is contradicted by the triumphs of science over irrationality, which he is so fond of referring to himself. As evidence of the power of science over irra­ tional belief Russell points to the triumph of the Coper- cican astronomy over the Church's opposition,3 the

^"Reply," PBR, up. 725-4. jibid. R&S, pp. 18-42. 227 recognition of the work of Galileo,^ the trinmph of 2 evolutionary theory over dogmatism, and the elimination of witchcraft accompanied by the scientific independence of medicine, except in unusual cases where morals are involved. However, the issue of whether or not men’s passions are so strong as to prohibit the application of a science of valuation, once the theoretical possibil­ ity has been demonstrated, is a contingent matter which can only be decided in the future.^Russell’s conclusion that value sentences are purely emotive and persuasive follows for him from the fact that he sees no way in which they indicate facts, except by inference from pre­ vious knowledge held prior to confronting the sentence in question. Since all sentences serve three purposes,

"(1) to indicate" facts, (2) to express the state of the speaker, (3) to alter the state of the hearer,^ and since Russell sees no way ethical sentences can per­ form the first function, "the conclusion is forced upon us that the difference is one of tastes, not one as to any objective truth.Thus Russell’s rejection of any pp. 33ff. 2 ^bi^., ch. 3. Ibid.. ch. 4. Essentially the same examples are given in The Scientific Outlook, chapters 1 and 5. See also In Praise of Idleness, chapter 14, regarding augury, comets, ^and astronomy. IMT. p. 256. See also pp. 10-11. p. 250. 228 objective reference for value judgments was arrived at by the method of residues. This is the only argument

that he has ever given for his position, and as long as no way other than inference could be shovm in which ethical sentences indicated facts, his conclusion stood.

Now, some other defense than the method of residues must be offered for the emotive-persuasive interpretation of ethical statements if it is to be maintained. The ana­ lysis of value statements by the theory of descriptions shov.'s their factual reference, and hence the identifi­ cation of value with desire—satisfaction does not force Russell^s conclusions upon us.

However, the analysis ppe^supposed the desire theory of value. Is there any way of proving it? Simply put, our answer must be that there is no more any manner in which basic definitions and postulates of ethics can be proven, than can similar definitions and postulates in any science field be proven. If this is what Russell has meant to say right along, then we must agree. However, he has not clearly spoken of definitions and postulates in his defense of the emotive-persuasive theory, but rather he has said that there is no "objective truth or falsehood in such a statement as ‘pleasure is good, ‘ In the same sense as in such a statement as ‘ snow is white. ‘

^HWP, p. 117. See the total context of this statement for further evidence that Russell is talking about judgments, not definitions. 229

He lias focused Ills attention upon judgments of value In Ills denial that they have other than emotive-persuasive

capacity.^ And the judgments of value for which he has

denied objective truth or falsehood have been judgments ofL./'ultlmate value. " How if in denying any means of

settling disagreement over "ultimate judgments of value"

Russell has meant that definitions of value terms are

subjective in the sense that all definitions are subject­

ive, then T/e would have to agree. His definition of

"value" given in "Good and Bad" would seem to acknowledge that the area of violent disagreement centers around arriving at acceptable definitions of basic ethical terms.

That the problem in ethics is technically no different from shat of any other problem area would have to be ad­ mitted by him, unless he wished to withdraw his stand

against ontically objective values. As to whether or not men will ever be able to unemotionally consider the

problem of definitions in value theory in relation to ethics, which is the application of such definitions in

concrete situations, is an open question. However, it

should be made clear as to where the area of disagreement

properly lies. If it is in value theory, then accepting

Russell's rejection of ontic values, there is no technical

or theoretical barrier to formulating an acceptable body

^See R&S, Ch. 9, passim. 230

of definitions which, can be applied in concrete judgments

capable of verification. If the disagreement is over particular judgments of value, then it should be pointed out that such is understandable until the basic terms

7/hich the judgments use are standardized. Russell’s emotive-persuasive position is not necessitated by the desire theory of value, as we have argued. This is suf­ ficient for the present problem.

Considered in the light of the analysis of this chapter, Russell's statement that "when we assert ühat this or that has 'value,* we are giving expression to our own emotions, not to a fact which would still be true if our personal feelings were different"^ is seen to be a tautology. All statements have an expressive function, and in the case of ethical statements we also indicate our psychological state of desire. Tru^ly this is not a fact that would be the same (or "true," in loose usage) if our personal feelings were different. However, to assert this is to utter a truism which has the status of an axiom or definition. It is here that & priori state­ ments enter into ethics as definitions in value theory.

In Russell's conception of a priori the experience which suggests the principle is not sufficient in itself

^R&S, p. 242. Problems of Philosophy, p. 116. See above, p. 20?. 251 to prove tiie principle. In effect, then, what is offered as an hypothesis here is that Russell has never actually abandoned the view he took in Problems of Philo­

sophy that judgments of ultimate values are a priori^

However, uhe important reservations upon this suggestion

are that he doesn’t regard values as having any inde­ pendent subsistence apart from human desires, and that

what must be considered a priori are not judgments of value, but definitions and basic postulates of value theory. In this interpretation, "a priori” does not

signify intuitively revealed truth, but rather refers to the manner in which a given statement is accepted into a 2 body of knowledge. Thus if one person’s experience has been such that Russell’s definition of "value” seems to be adequate, he will^ccept it a priori, while another person’s experience may not suggest the definition. This still leaves value theory as a philosophic discipline,

subject to all the controversial disputes that philosophy

thrives on. However, it is important to be aware of

exactly wherein lies the area of controversy. All sciences*

^Problems of Philosophy, pp.118-9. The distinction of the empirical and the a priori seems to depend upon confounding sources of knowledge with grounds of truth. There is no doubt a great difference between knowledge gained by perception, and knowledge gained by reasoning; but that does not show a corres­ ponding difference as to w-hat is known. " (Critical Ex- position of the Philosophy of Leibniz, p. 24.} 232 basic concepts are subject to dispute and controversy, witli v/liicli their conclusions are not marked, so the lack of complete agreement in value theory is no ob­ jection in itself to a science of ethics. Upon the present analysis all basic propositions in ethics would be true, for as Russell says: "So long as your words merely describe present experiences, the sole possible errors are linguistic, and these only involve socially wrong behaviour, not falsehood.Thus in general there is no way to prove a basic proposition false, and basic propositions are such that no two of them, if derived from different percepts, can be incon-

O sistent. This sort of criticism has been thought to be crucial when used in ethical disputation, but it has been over-looked•that within Russell*s position the same thing could be said of all basic propositions, and yet he considers his views adequate to support scientific knowledge. The implications for ethics should be obvious. If the truth of basic propositions cannot be disputed, then on the one hand ethical disagreement must; be con­ ducted on the level of "socially wrong behaviour," in that the disputants would argue one with the other that words were being misused. This is what Russell v/ould call a linguistic dispute, not ethics, but with one exception mIMT. p. 99. Ibid.. p. 174. 233 it is tiard to see what else ethical controversy could

he about. This exception is that ethical disagreement

might be entirely confined to discussions of extrinsic

value or instrumental value. That is, we would not argue

over the truth of basic ethical propositions, like "This

is good," where "this" is a proper name of the present experience of the speaker. Bather we would dispute over

the truth of the propositions Tfhich asserts the instrument­ al value of that which causes "this." Thus we would argue whether or not "The liquid in such and such a bottle is good, " Is true, i,»^» we would ask whether or not the

liquid Is conducive to the satisfaction of desire. The

evidence would be an assemblage of basic ethical proposi­ tions whose ca^%te.l conditions were the sampling of the liquid. If the basic propositions agreed In their as­ sertions, then the proposition asserting the Instrument­ al value would be true, for in its analysed form it would read: "At least one person finds and at most all persons find satisfaction of desire from the liquid." The Judg­ ment of Instrumental value would not have "absolute truth, " but like all empirical judgments would be true only within a certain degree of probability. In theory this situation is no different from that of any one of the many everyday judgments which assert a given quality of some­ 234 thing. ’Take the judgment "The texture of this material is rough." The evidence for or against this statement will be the presentation of various witnesses who assert "This is rough" or "This is not rough." There will be a difference between their reports, depending upon the sensitivity of their skin and many other factors. Yet the only evidence for or against the judgment of the - texture of the material will be the witnesses’ assertions of the basic propositions, and since basic propositions cannot contradict one another, the presence of disagree­ ment among witnesses will necessitate a detailed analysis of V,herein the caasal conditions of their various asser­ tions differ. This is all very complicated and presents terrific practical barriers to verifying the judgment in question. Ye-t such judgments are made and are accepted as scientifically valid. The barriers to verifying the instrumental judgments of ethics are equally, if not more, difficult, but the task is not theoretically impossible. Our conclusions are open to the objectloh thaZt_ the basic propositions which result from this method of analysis, and which are offered as the foundation for ethical principles, are not in every respect consistent with the traditional field of ethics. This is true, but the same type of arguments might have been urged against the Wright brothers by those sceptical of the airplane. They would have said that the device in the htcy&e shop looked notiling like a iiorse and buggy and so could never serve as an adequate means of transportation. The iVrigiit brothers went ahead and showed by their practical success that the critics were wrong. It is obligatory upon the defenders of the possibility of a science of ethics to likewise go ahead and show that shey can work out the practical application of the theoretical foundations which philosophy is able to disclose.

It was not our purpose here to argue the case for a working science of ethics, but rather it was the aim of this analysis to show the theoretical possibility with­ in Russell’s position for an empirical science of valua­ tion. Such a possibility has been demonstrated within the framework of -Russell’s philosophy of analysis. The practical problems of implementing the theory are not properly a part of this present study. Part IV. Conclusions Chapter 9. A Review of the Prohlem and Conclusions

of This Study

In our attempt to explain uhy Dewey and Russell disagree so decidedly over the possibility of a science of ethics, it- was necessa.ry to fix clearly each inan’s basis for taking his particular stand on the issue.Once this vas done, we v;ere in a position to determine v;hy they differed in their conclusions, even though a survey of their respective philosophical convictions revealed a wide range of general philosophical agreement between

Dewey and Russell. Dewey*8 conception of science is such that a science of valuation is entirely possible. Science for him is one activity among the many activities which make up the continuum of life’s experiences. Scientific knowledge is not marked off and separated from everyday common-sense experience in such a manner as to make it inapplicable to the very process of experience out of vfhich it grew.

The forms of scientific knowing are viewed by Dewey as continuous with common sense knowing, yet as more refined in the conditions requisite for their occurrence. Es­ sentially science is an activity, a work, performed in special laboratories, by men trained in certain v/ays.

Science is not entitled to veneration or praise as being 237 a special kind of knowledge which, demands awe inspired reverance on the part of the uninitiated.

Science considered solely as knowledge is of the same general nature and pattern as all knowledge. Know­ ledge for Dewey is a result of the process of inquiry. Inquiry begins as àn investigation into a disturbed, un­ settled situation or experiential setting. By selecting out the aspects of the situation which constitute the problem and framing a hypothesis to guide future action aimed at resolving the problem, inquiry proceeds. The termination of inquiry, or knowledge, is the result of the resolution of the problem which was being considered. Of 0001596 i n the various particular scientific areas the elaborateness of the activities necessary to resolve the problems varies. Bur since all knowledge follows from the general process of inquiry, we can say that science is actually the working out in particular situa­ tions of tha.t process.

Now when we considered Dewey’s theory of valuation we found that the same pattern of inquiry was present. In fact we noted that Dewey explicitly said ttat his theory of value judgments is but a special case of his general theory of inquiry. Since the same process of inquiry is central to science and to valuation, there is obviously no barrier to a science of ethics,

Dewey is not bothered by the various dualisms which 238 for others .'block the possibility of a science of valua­ tion. For Dewey the distinction between facts and values does not exist, if one regards such distinction as desig­

nating different ontically subsisting aspects of the universe. Pacts as well as values are for Dewey account­ ed for exhaustively in terms of the conditions and con­

clusions of inquiry, and neither have any status prior to and independent of inquiry. This is, then, one more reason why Dewey sees a possibility of a science of ethics.

In establishing Russell’s reasons for rejecting the possibility of a science of ethics, we found that science for him meant a body of knowledge reporting particular matters of fact and also a collection of principles and laws which make possible the prediction of future events.

Science is to be'divided as consisting of both scientific knowledge and scientific technique. The former consists of the formulation of true propositions, which accurately report the factual nature of the world. Scientific technique, on the other hand, is not interested in merely recording the facts, but it provides means for altering the state of things.

Now science as knowledge is not able to deal with ethical problems because there are no facts in ethics.

Since facts are what make propositions true or false, and knowledge consists of the awareness of true propositions, the absence of a factual basis in ethics puts that area 239 of man*s experience outside the scope of science. Russell argues, as we saw, that there are no facts in ethics and that ethical sentences are purely emotive- persuasive in nature, not having any indicative function,

cecause ethics, according to him, deals with feelings, passions, and desires. There are no ontically objective

values for Russell. V.hai: make» something good or bad is merely whether or not it is such as to produce the satisfaction of desire for someone. Since ethical values

are aspects of desires, and yet ethical statements do not assert that we have certain desires, Russell concludes that the function of such ethical statements is purely emotive and persuasive. If ethical judgments have no indicative capacity, but rather are restricted to express­

ing the state of.the speaker in such a manner as to per­

suade the hearer to certain action, then knowledge of ethical matters 3^ impossible. V.herever knowledge is not

possible, there science cannot go, except as technique.

However, science as technique is seen as a neutral

instrument by Russell. Scientific technique, according to him, can produce good or bad results and in itself is

completely neutral to the ethical v % l u e of the uses to which it is put. This means that science as technique, as well as science as knowledge, is incapable of treating the problems of ethics. Of course scientific technique's very neutrality allows it to be applied vvhere mere questions 240 of selecting proper rieans for already accepted ends are

involved. But this is not to "be considered a point for a science of ethics, for the real problems of ethics

involve deliberation over end-values. Here science is impotent.

Our survey of the general areas of agreement between

Dewey's and Russell's positions narrowed down the range within which the key to their differences over the possi­ bility of a science of ethics must be found. Ig. theories of education and psychology we found that their posi­ tions were quite similar, though not exactly alike. Yet there was not found any obvious reason there for the dis­ agreement over a science which would treat ethical matters.

In social and political philosophy, as in their philos­ ophies of religion, our survey revealed a great deal of similarity between these two men's respective views. And possibly most important for the present problem, we saw that each respected science as the true means of knowledge and improvement for mankind. Possibly no other contemporary philosopher exceeds Dewey or Russell on this point. Scientific know^ledge for Dewey and Russell represents the only acceptable type of knowledge available.

Each m n l s empirical orientation in theory of knowledge reinforces - a* - common opposition to intuitionisms of all forms, which claim a "higher" type of knowledge than that derived by observation and controlled by scientific 241 proce^dures.

If Dewey and hassell had differing concepts of the fimdainental nature of value, their split over the possi­ bility of a science of ethics would be easily explained. However, we saw uhat they are in general agreement that

the origin of value is in desire and that value can be defined in terms of desire-satisfaction under certain specifiable conditions.

The only point in the survey of their general agree­ ments that revealed differences in their views which could be traced to the root of the present problem seemed to be on the question of theory of knowledge. Since we saw that each man’s own theory of knowledge figures so pro­ minently in his acceptance or rejection of a science of ethics, an investigation was in order of those points wherein Dewey’s theory of knowledge is not acceptable to Russell.

We found that the chief criticism of Dewey's episte­ mology from Russell’s viewpoint was the substitution of inquiry for truth as the basic concept. Russell found the subordination of the traditional categories of epistemology to the central idea of inquiry to be not only false, but actually vicious in its effects. Russell cannot accept

Dewey’s rejection of a factual reference for propositions which is entirely outside the scope and range of the inquiry seeking knowledge. He feels that once science or inquiry 242 îaas given up its claim to obnectivs facts, entirely in­ dependent of the actions of the observer, then there is

no way of establishing true scientific results. If

truth is determined by whether the results of inquiry are satisfying or not, and if the impartial investigator cannot dei.cano recognition of his results upon the claim that his inquiry is factual, then those persons having the balance of power can control science. For whether certain results are satisfying or not is within the power of forceful persuasion to determine. A dictator can not

change the facoual nature of the solar system, but he could make the consequences of believing in a solar

system, rather than in a lunar system, very undesirable

and dis-satisfying. Thus the dictator could control the ourcome of scientific inquiry and pronounce at will what

is "true" and what is "false."

Not only is this repugnant to Russell^ s sensibility, but he feels that it is not true to what is actually the

case. As a matter of fact the earth does revolve around

the sun, and the earth does not revolve around the moon.

To disregard the unchangeable nature of the factual order of the universe is a basic error in investigations of all types and particularly in scientific inquiry.

Vie saw that Dewey did not acknowledge the whole of

Russell’s criticisms as being justifiably drawn from his position. However, even after Dewey and Russell had 243 ample opportianity to clarify tiieir differences and re­

move the barrier of disagreement which separates their views, we were still left v/ith an irréconciliable situa­ tion. We saw that they could not agree upon the nature

of knowledge and science in general. In particular, they

differ over the nature and function of propositions, which

for Dewey are merely instruments within inquiry. Russell's theory of propositions gives them a status apart from in­ quiry, such that the attaint.ent of true propositions is actually the goal, rather than a mere instrumentality within inquiry. We also saw that Dewey and Russell differ in their interpretation of the role of operations and in­

strumentalities v/ithin scientific inquiry, as well as in

their interpretation of the function of antecedents and consequences in determining truth. The whole issue of the relation of perception to empirical knowledge provides another point at v/hich they do not agree. Thus it is that their epistemological differences seem too numerous and definite to be reconciled.

Once we concluded that the disagreement over the possibility of a science of ethics arose from differences between Dewey and Russell over theory of knowledge, and that their epistemological views could not be reconciled, then it appeared that we could find no basis of agreement be tv/e en their ethical views. One aspect of the problem, ylZt, the whyfor/, of their split on the issue of a science 244 of ethics had been explained. However, we were still left

with the task of looking for some manner of finding agree­

ment between Dewey and Russell on the issue of this pro­ blem. The avenue of resolving the basic epistemological

differences which lie at the root of rheir split was closed by our discussion of the irréconciliable nature of this disagreement.

We considered the alternative that Dewey's position might reject the possibility of a science of valuation in

favor of Russell's viewpoint. However, after surveying Dewey's response to Russell's writings, we found that there was no avenue open by which Dewey's stand could, be

transformed into a rejection of the science of ethics, as Russell argues, for such. The concepts of value, know­

ledge, inquiry and science are too intrically bound up with one another in Dewey's philosophy for any other con­

clusion than that a science of valuation is possible.

There remained then but one chance of our achieving some degree of agreement between Dewey and Russell over

the possibility of a science of ethics. If their views

could not be directly reconciled, and if Dewey's position could not reasonably be shown to allow for Russell's view­ point, then the basis for a science of ethics in Russell's philosophy would have to be demonstrated, if we were not to leave their differences without resolution. We took as the key to Russell's stand his view that 245 ethics is barred from the realm of science due to the lack of a factual reference for erhical statements. If there are no facts in ethics, and if truth is determined by facts, then there can be no true propositions in ethics, and hence no knowledge of values.^ zbince science is concerned with knowledge, science has therefore no concern in ethics. Of course if ethics is devoid of basic propositions, it would also be impossible to formu­ late general scientific principles of value. Science is interested above all in the formulation of principles which make prediction possible, and so on this point also ethics fails to measure up to the scientific level. In attempting to find a basis within Russell’s posi­ tion for a science of ethics, we sought a way of demon­ strating that basic ethical propositions, j^._e. propositions which directly report the faces of ethics, are possible

Although Russell does not mention Dewey by name, it is obvious that he is referring to Dewey when he states: "Very many American philosophers, perhaps most, dis­ agree vfith me about this, and hold that there is no such property as ’truth.* For them the problem that I am considering does not exist. But for me it is necessary to acknowledge that I see no property, analogous to ’truth, ’ that belongs or does not belong to an ethical judgment." ("Reply," PER, p. 723) This reinforces the conclusion of the present essay as to the source of disagreement over a science of ethics between Russell and Dewey. 246 within his own frame of reference. This task required an extensive analysis of Russell *s theory of knov/ledge, in which we took as our point of orientation Morris i/eitz^s view on the unity of Russell’s philosophy* V'.'eitz holds that Russell’s writings over the past

50 years exemplify the connon trait of being centered around a core of method, or philosophical analysis.

This method has gone by various names in Russell’s writings and has been applied in diverse areas of thought. The general theory of descriptions, as a method for the resolution of incomplete symbols, has also been called (l) the analysis of denoting phrases, (2) the analysis of incomplete symbols, (S) -constructionism, (4) the princi­ ple v/hich dispenses with abstractions, and (5) the logi­ cal-analytic method. VVeitz says that all these mean the same thing because they all refer to a technique by which certain symbols that are defective are replaced by other symbols or groups of symbols. This technique has been applied by Russell in ontological analysis, formal analy­ sis in abstract cosmology, logical analysis in mathe­ matical logic, and in the analysis of the symbolism of science and ordinary life. The theory of descriptions, as we saw, starts from the distinction between names and incomplete symbols.

A name refers directly to that which is its meaning, and it has this meaning in its own right, independently of 247

tiie meaning of other words. In contrast to a name, an

incomplete symbol has no meaning in itself, bnt only

acquires meaning v/hen it is considered in a context with other symbols.

i'low a definite description is a phrase of the form "the so-and-so," which also complies to the form of a denoting phrase. A phrase is denoting in virtue of its

form alone, so it sometimes happens that a denoting phrase denotes nothing. In these cases it must be neces­

sary to give some interpretation to sentences containing such phrases so that these sentences would be meaningful and capable of truth.

We followed out Russell's reasoning to the conclusion that denoting phrases are incomplete symbols, and as such

they have to be analysed in context, since they have no meaning in isolation- A proper contextual analysis of a

denoting phrase or definite description will always involve reference to the qualities of "the so-and-so" which make anything "the so-and-so*" The grammatical subject of the

sentence containing the phrase will be replaced by a prepositional function, namely that which defines the property that makes a thing "the so-and-so." 'vVhen we saw the manner in which incomplete symbols could be resolved by the theory of descriptions, it was clear that sentences containing such incomplete symbols could be meaningfully interpreted and shown to refer to 248 aspects of our direct experience, rather than to fictiti­ ous entities created ad hoc to explain the absence of a direct referent for the symbol. It was discussed in passing that the theory of descrip­ tions is not purely a method of formal analysis, but that particularly in constructionism actual existential com­ plexes were analysed. The theory of descriptions is formal in its general structure, but it also deals with experienced entities and actual complexes. This enables it to be applied to any subject matter in its role of a neutral method of analysis, but when it deals with actual complexes, its results have a claim to being correct, ob­ jectively speaking. The use of the theory of descriptions in general in science was evident, and its formal nature, so we argued, would make it applicable in ethics also. The factual, empirical aspect of such analyses would protect the appli­ cation of the theory in ethics from the charge that such would be purely linguistic analysis and not in any sense ethics.

Also we argued that in view of the fact that the gen­ eral theory of descriptions had been used by Russell in the analysis of the symbolism of science and of ordinary life, it was applicable to ethical statements which are but a part of the symbolism of everyday life. V^hen it was recalled that values for Russell do not have any status 249

in a realm of subsisting entities but are tiie products of desires, it was evident that there was no barrier to analysing ethical statements according to the theory of

descriptions. It was shown that for Russell >=^thical terms are in­

complete symbols because they do not refer directly to any aspect of our experience. In isolation value words do not have any meaning, but only acquire meaning when put within the context of an analysis in terms of desire, according to Russell. This shows that they can be treated by the theory of descriptions in such a manner as to re­ veal the reference of ethical statements to certain psy­ chological states of the speaker.

If a proper.analysis of ethical sentences reveals them to have a factual reference, there is no reason to accept Russell’s emotive-persuasive interpretation of the nature of ethics. The possibility of a science of ethics would follow within Russell’s position from the demonstra­ tion that ethical statements do have an empirical factual reference, and hence they are capable of verification. The transference of the theory of descriptions, a method which has proven itself to be of great value in science, over to ethics was shown to be entirely in keep­ ing with Russell’s professed philosophy. That the trans­ ference was legitimate was evidenced by the parallels that were drawn between the application of the theory in 250 inatheîns.tical and physical analysis and its proposed application in axiological analysis.

We have considered some of the other aspects of

Bussell’s ethical views which required discussion in

order to make more "binding the demonstration that his

position does allov/ for the possi"bility of a science of ethics in spite of his explicit disclaimer. As to what

such a science would "be like in actuality was not the problem we were concerned wlz'n. That there is no theo­

retical barrier to the possibility of a science of

valuation within Russell’s philosophy has been demon­ strated.

We must nov/ consider how and to what degree the demonstration of .the possibility of a science of ethics

for Russell answers the problem of reconciling his posi- i tion with Dewey’s. It has been mentioned already that \

neither Dewey nor Russell hold that the function of philos­

ophy is to set up in working order a science of ethics, or for that matter a science of any sort. This work must be done by practical workers in the field. So irresp«e.— tive of the actual barriers to a science of valuation which

exists at the present, we are assured by the foregoing ana­

lysis that there is a basis for a science of ethics within both Dewey’s and Russell’s positions. The specific nature

of this science would vary from the one man’s position to

the other’s, just as we saw there was disagreement between 251 them over the general ns.ture of science and of knowledge. However, the important issue is that for both

philosophers propositions asserting value or judgments of value, as contrasted to propositions and judgments

about value, are capable of verification. Russell has

right along admitted that propositions or judgments about values were possible. V,h.en one says that "Adultery is held to be wrong in the United States," he is uttering a true

statement. This is not an ethical statement, according a * to Russell, but rather historical or sociological state­ ment. Likewise when someone says "I believe adultery to be wrong," this is only a biographical or psychological

statement,^ Dewey’s position recognizes this same dis- 2 tinction between judgments about and judgments of value.

It is very Important for a science of ethics that judg­ ments of value are capable of verification.

ïi/hile the two philosophers do not agree on the nature of propositions and judgments, each within his own frame­ work allows for judgments of value, capable of verifica­ tion. We are then in the same position in regard to a science of ethics as we are when any science is considered in respect to Dewey's and Russell's positions. We do not have detailed point for point agreement over the pro­ per philosophical interpretation of the foundations of the

Jr &S, p. 249. p. 19. 252

science, but we do '%ve general agreement that there is such a science field and valid scientific results

can be expected from it. This is a very minimum of agreement in scientific fields of long standing and demonstrated results. However, in the problem area of a science of ethics, to have attained even such minimum agreement between Dewey and Russell is significant in

view of the extreme antithetical positions they were shown ÔO be^at the beginning of this present study. In view of the undeveloped state of a science of

valuation, probably the most important conclusions from this study bear not upon bringing Dewey and Russell into direct agreement on the matter, but in breaking dovm the barrier between their respective views of ethics which resulted from Russell’s emotive-persuasive theory. This is most evident when some particular ethical problem is under consideration. Russell’s position, as we saw, was that no evidence is relevent to the solution of ethical problems,and only force -either eloquent persuasion or violence- could decide rhe question at issue. Dewey’s stand on the matter emphasized the importance of intelli­ gence and the method of inquiry in settling ethical pro­ blems before they become so aggravated that they cannot be treated intelligently.

How that it has been shown that consistent with

Russell’s position there is an indicative function to 253 ethical statements and that a science of valuation is at least not ruled out in theory hy his stand, there is no longer this opposition between Dewey's and Russell’s views of ethics. To take a specific example, let us consider the assertion that "Democracy is the best form of political life," This is an ethical judgment that

Dewey and Russell would concur in. Hov/ever, under

Russell’s own interpretation this statement is only any emotionally laden attempt to persuade others to support democracy. He shares Dewey’s regard for democracy as a political ideal, but he bars the way to allowing that the judgment in question can have other than an emotive- persuasive function. Within the framework of Russell’s position as we have analyzed it here-, it is possible to show that "Democracy is the best form of political life" does not have merely an emotive-persuasive status, but that it is capable of verification* This judgment would be analysed as; "The value of democracy is greater^ than the value of any other ^We do not wish to engage in the ethical controversy of whether or not values can be given quantitative measure. In the following analysis quantitative measurement has been used, but such is not necessary for science accord­ ing to Russell, "The part played by measurement and quantity in science is very great," Russell says, “but is, I think, sometimes over-estimated,,,,a law may be quite scientific without being quantitative....We must, therefore, in dealing with such a matter as animal be­ havior, be content in the meantime with qualitative laws which are none the less scientific for not being quantitative." (SO, pp. 65-6; see also p. 174) Thus, however the ethical controversy were decided, the decision would not bar ethics from being a science on Russell ’ s taiiis« 254 form of political life." Taking the descriptive phrases "the value of democracy" and "the value of any other form

of political life," the analysis would in its crudest form be : "The satisfaction of desires in democracies is greater than the satisfaction of desires in any other form of po­ litical life."^ The complete analysis would be something

like:

1. "At least one person's desires are satisfied in democracies."

2. "At most all persons’ desires are satisfied in democracies." 3. "However many persons* desires are satisfied in democracies, the number of these persons is greater than the number of persons whose desires are satis­ fied in any other form of political life." Strictly speaking we would need statements 1 ’ and 2 ’

of the same form as 1 and 2, but ending "...satisfied in all forms of political life other than democracy, " in order that our judgment v«ould not be like "The number of oranges grown in California is greater than the number of those grown in Siberia." "The satisfaction of desires in all forms of political life other than democracy" is also an incomplete symbol and must be likewise analysed to

show that it has an empirically verifiable reference.

^Russell sanctions this interpretation by his definition of "better" which says, "one occurrence is ’better’ than another if it satisfies more desires or a more intense desire." (G&B, p. 5) The principle of maximum compossi- bility in euhics, v;hich states that the satisfaction of that desire which allows for the satisfaction of the greatest number of ;other desires is the best, also bears ouu this present analysis. (G&B, p. 8). For tiie judgment "Democracy is tlie best form of political life" seems to mean tiiat it is not the only way, and in­

deed it would be meaningless to speak of it as the best if it were the only way, since "better than" is a dyadic relation and "best" is usually at least a triadic re­ lation. ^

By means of analyses such as this one, Russell’s

position allows that judgments of vslue that are not ob­ viously appraisals of instrumental value are capable of being true or false. Or course Russell has always held

that instrumental judgments of value were capable of 2 verification and as such were a matter for science.

However, being convinced of the absence of an indicative function in ethical judgments which were not about in­

strumental value, he has never developed the possibili­ ties of a science of ethics dealing with instrumental judgments of value, stating the originative and régula- tive conditions under which value arises. It is

&IMT. p. 54. p. 240. sample regulative principle which would follow from Russell’s position and wiiich he has formulated would be that "compossible desires are preferable as means," vfhich "leads to an ethic by which desires may be dis­ tinguished as right or wrong, or, speaking loosely, as good or bad. Right desires will be those that are cep- able of being compossible with as many other desires as possible; wrong desires 'will be those than can only be satisfied by thwarting other desires."(G&B.p.S). 256 primarily with, such judgments that Dewey has dealt in his discussions of the possibility of a science of ethics*

Dewey has not spent a great deal of effort with Russell’s problem of finding objective criteria for definitions in value rheory* He has been convinced that the origina­ tive conditions of value are to be found in human d esires, interests, appetitions, etc. and has not found it pro­ fitable to ponder upon the difficulties of persuading others to accept this foundation for ethics. Thus we return once more to Prof. E. C. Brown’s appraisal that the differences between Dewey and Russell are chiefly ones of different interests.^ Our analysis has shown that within Russell’s own position there is adequate theoretical basis for a science of ethics. Yet he has been more- interested in pondering nhe difficulties involved in gaining general acceptance of a given inter­ prets tion of the basic terms of such a science, than he has been interested in taking his own definition of value and constructing the foundation of a science of ethics.

The possibilities within each man’s position are equally promising for a science of ethics. They would of cour se differ from one another on the particular details of such a science in proportion as vire found them to hold certain irreconcilable views within the general theory of knowledge.

^See above, ch. 4, p. 79. 257 However, tne task of this study was not to hrin-g to­ gether Dewey and Russell on the proolein of a science of ethics, unless and only to the degree in which we could find basis for genuine agreement in their respective positions. This basis had to be attained by an analy­ sis of latent possibilities in Russell’s position. The agreement is admittedly minimal, and it would not go very far as a basis for establishing a working science of valuation. However, ours was a theoretical and methodo­ logical problem involving the relationship of two systems of thought. The conclusions that have been arrived at are of the same nature as the problem. Beyond this the present study cannot go, for the actual implementation of a science of valuation is not the task of philosophical analysis. All that philosophy can do is to argue the possibilities. The particular nature and development of such a science will have to be left for others to work with, after philosophy, so to speak, has set the intellectual stage. 258 BIBLIOGRAPHE

Rote : Items marked - I iis (^) are included in this "bihli- ography to aid the reader in locating passages cited in the footnotes, although the study of these sources did not figure prominently in the research for this present work. The arrange­ ment of works is alphabetical by author and chronological under each authoic.

Ayers, C. ] ., "Instrumental Economics," New Republic, Oct, 17, 1949, pp. 18-20. Black, Max, article: "Russell, Bertrand A, W.," in The Dictionary of Philosophy. Dagobert D. Rimes, editor. New York, Philosoohical Library, 1942, p. 274.

Black, Max, "Russell’s Philosophy of Language," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 227-255.

Brown, Harold 0., "A Logician in the Field of Psycho­ logy, " The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, ^orthwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 445-473. Buchler, Justus, "Russell and the Principles of Ethics," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 511-535. Chisholm, R. M., "Russell on the Foundations of Empirical Khov/ledge, " The Philosophy of Bert­ rand Russell. Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 419-444.

:-Dewey, John, The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy. New York, Henry iiolt and Co., 1910.

Dewey, John, "The Existence of the World as a Problem," a review of Our Knowledge of the External World. Philosophical Review, v.24, July 1915,pp.347-370.

Dev/ey, John, Reconstruction in Philosophy. New York, a Mentor Book of The New American Library, c. 1920 by Henry Holt and Co., enlarged edition 1948, Mentor edition 1950. 259 Dewey, John, E u m ^ Hature and Conduct, New York, Henry Holt and. Co., 1922•

Dewey, John, Experience and. Natnre, Chicago, Open Court Publishing Co., 1925. ^t-Dewey, John. The Public and. Its Problems, New York, Henry Holt and. Co., 1927.

->Dev:ey, John, Character and Events, New York, Henry Holt and. CoT% 1929.

-x-Dewey, John, Education Today. New York, G. ?. Putnam*s Sons, Ï9&Ô.

Dewey, John, Quest for Certainty. New York, Minton, Balch, and Co., 1929.

Dewey, John, contribution in Living Philosonhies. New York, Simon and Schuster, c. 1930, .edition of 1931.

-x-Dewey,John, Philosophy and Civilization. New York, G, P. Putnam* s Sons, 1931. Dewey, John, How We Think, New York, D. C, Heath, new edition of 1933.

*Dewey, John, Liberalism and Social Action. New York, G. P. Putnam*s Sons, 1935.

Dewey, J ohn. Logic : The Theory of Inquiry, New York, Henry Holt and Co., 1938, reprinted August 1949.

Dewey, John, **Experience, Knowledge and Value: A Rejoinder, " The Philosophy of John Dewey, Evans­ ton, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1939, pp. 515-608. -x-Dewey, John, !^eedom and Culture, New York, G. P. PutnazzT^s Sons, 1939.

Dewey, John, Intelligence in the Modern World, New York, The M o d e m Library, Random House, l'93Ô. Dewey, John, Theory of Valuation. International Encyclo­ pedia of Unified Science, v. II, no. 4, Chicago, ^ e University of Chicago Press, 1939. 260 Dewey, John, Problems of -^en, New York, Philosophical Librai»y, 1946.

Dewey, John, "The Field of *Valne,*" in Value, A Cooperative Inquiry, Ray Lepley, editor. New York, Columbia University Press, 1949, pp. 64-77.

*Dewey, John, and Bentley, Arthur P., Knowing and the Known. Boston, Beacon Press, 1949.

Dewey, John, "Philosophy*s Future in Our Scientific Age, 0ommentarv. v.8, 1949, pp. 388-394. Garnett, A. C ., "Criticisms," in Value,A Sooperative Inquiry, Ray Lepley, editor. New York, Columbia ïïniversity Press, 1949, pp. 312-318.

Krikorian, Y. E., "The Ethics of Naturalism" New Republic, Oct. 17, 1949, pp. 32-56.

Leggett, E. W., Bertrand Russell, 0, M ., New ^ork. Philosophical Library, 1950. Lindeman, Eduard, "Russell's Concise Social Philosophy,” The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 557-577, *Locke, Alain L., book note on Value, A Cooperative Inquiry, in The Key Reporter (Phi Beta Kappa news magazine), v.15, no.2, Spring 1950, p. 5. Macpherson, Jessie, "Bertrand Russell," Canadian Forum. V.28, Dec. 1948, p. 205-206.

Nagel, Ernest, "Russell's Philosophy of Science," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, North- westem University, Library of Living Philo- sopliers, 1946, pp. 317-349.

Nagel, Ernest, "Pure Science and Gross Experience," New Republic, Oct. 17, 1949, pp. 20-23.

Reeves, J . W., "The Origin and Consequence of the Theory of Descriptions, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, new series v. 34, 1933-34, pp. 211-230. 261 wRussell, Bertrand, A Critical Exposition of the Philosoph.y of Leibniz, London, George Allen and Unwin, Ltd*, 1900, second edition, 1937. Russell, Bertrand, ”0n Denoting,” reprinted in Pelgl and Sellars, editors. Readings in Philosophical Analysis. New York, Appelton-Century-ùrofts, Inc., 19&9, pp. 103-115, from. Mind, v".14, 1905, pp. 479-493. Russell, Bertrand, and Vjhitehead, A. N., Prlnclpia Mathematlca, Cambridge University •t'ress, 1910, second edition of 1935, reprinted 1950, v.I, only the "Introduction," and Chapter 3, "In­ complete Symbols." Russell, Bertrand, The Problems of Philosophy, London, Oxford Uni ver s 1 ty Pre ss, The iiome *^nlverslty Library, 1912. Russell, Bertrand, Our Knowledge of the_External World, London, G-eorge Allen and Unwin, Ltd., cT 1914, revised 1926, reprinted 1949. ■H-Russell, Bertrand, Justice In War-Time, Chicago and London, The Open Court Publishing Co., first edition 1916, second edition 1917. ^Russell, Bertrand, Why Men Fight, New York, The Century Co., 1916. Russell, Bertrand, Introduction to Mathematical Philoso­ phy. London, George Allen and Unwin, Ltd., cl l9l9, edition of 1950.

Russell, Bertrand, "Introduction," to Ludwig Wittgen­ stein* s Tractatus Loglco-Phllosophlcus ,New York, The Press, Inc., 1951, originally printed In 1922, which Is the date of the "in­ troduction. "

•s-Russell, Bertrand, Prospects of Industrial Civilization, in collaboration with Dora Russell, New York, The C entury Co., 1923.

«Russell, Bertrand, Sow to be Free and Happy. The Rand School of , lecture delivered May 28, 1924. 262

Russell, Bertrand, "Styles in Ethics," in Our Changing Morality* A Symposium, Freda Kircttway, editor, ïïew YorA, Albert and Charles Boni, 1924, pp.1-24.

Russell, Bertrand, Vvhat I Believe. New York, E. P. Dut­ ton and Co., 1925.

•K-Russell, Bertrand, The Analysis of Matter. New York, Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1927.

Russell, Bertrand, Philosophy. New York, V/. \V. Norton and Co., 1927. -x-Russell, Bertrand, Selected Papers of Bertrand Russell, New York, The Modern Library, Random House, 1927.

Russell, Bertrand, "How Will Science Change Morals?," Menorah Journal, v.14, no. 4, April 1928, pp. 321- 3^ Russell, Bertrand, Sceptical Essays. New York, W. 'W. Norton and Co., 1928.

Russell, Bertrand, "On the Evils Due to Fear," in If I Could Preach Just Once. New York, Harper and Brothers, 1929, pp. 217-230. Russell, Bertrand, Mysticism and Logic. New York, W. W. Norton and Co., 1929.

Russell, Bertrand, "Three V/ays to the World," in The World Man Lives In. New York, Van Nostrand Co., 1Ô29, pp. 9-21.

Russell, Bertrand, The Scientific Outlook. New York, lY.W. Norton and Co., 1931. *Russell, Bertrand, Freedom versus Organization, 1814-1914, New York, W. W. Norton and Co., 1934.

Russell, Bertrand, In Praise of -Idleness. New York, W. W. Norton and Co., 1935.

Russell, Bertrand, Religion and Science. New York, Henry Holt and Co., 1935.

*Russell, Bertrand, "The Future of Democracy," New Re­ public . May 5, 1937, pp. 381-382. 263 Russell, Bertrand, Power,A Hew Social Analysis, London, George Allen and Unwin, Ltd., 1938*

Russell, Bertrand, "Dewey’s New Logie." The Philosophy of John Dewey, Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1959, pp. 155-156.

Russell, Bertrand, An Inquiry into Meaning and Truth, New York, W. W. Norton and Co., 1940.

Russell, Bertrand, "Spinoza* s Ethics," in The New In­ vitation to Learning, Mark VanDoren, editor. New lork. The New Hone Library, c. 1942, edition of 1944. -x-Russell, Bertrand, "Citizenship in A Great State, " Fortune, December 1945, pp.. 166-168.

Russell, Bertrand, "Reply to Criticisms," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, Northwestern "Üniversity, Library of Living Philosophers, 1945, second edition 1946, pp. 681-741.

Russell, Bertrand, A History of Western Rhilosophy, New York, Simon and ü^huster, 1Ô45. Russell, Bertrand, "Good and Bad," Polemic (British), no.6, Nov.-Dec. 1946, pp. 2-8. Russell, Bertrand, Human Knowledge, Its Scope and Limits, New York, Simon and Schuster, 1948.

Russell, Bertrand, "Sin," H^orizon, A Review of Literature and Art. (British), Cyril Connolly, editor, v.XVII.> no.97, January 1948, pp. 7-15.

Russell, Bertrand, "Why Fanaticism Brings Defeat," The Listener, (BBC), v.40, no.1026, Sept. 23, 1948, pp. 452-453. Russell, Bertrand, Authority and the Individual, London, George Allen and Nnwln, Ltd., 1949. *Russell, Bertrand, "The Science to Save Us from Science," New York Times Magazine, Mar. 19, 1950, pp. 9 +

*Russell, Bertrand, Unpopular Essays, New York, Simon and Schuster, 1950. 264 *Russell, Bertrand, Tde Impact of Science on Sodet-y. New York, Colmnbia university Press, 1951.

Stebbing, L, Susan, "Constructions," Proceedings of ttie Aristotelian Society, new series v.34, 1953- 34, pn. 1-30.

Stebbing, L. Susan, A Modern Introduction to Logic. London, Methuen and Co., Ltd., seventh edition, 1950, actually the second revised edition of 1933 in the sixth printing. Thayer, E. S*, "Two Theories of Truth: The Relation Between the Theories of John Dewey and Bertrand Russell," Journal of Philosophy, v.44, no.19, Sept. 11, 1947, pp. 516-527.

TJshenko, A. P., "Russell^s Critique of Empiricism," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell. Evanston, Northwestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 385-417.

Vivas, Sliseo, The Moral Life and the Ethical Life. Chicago, The University of Chicago Press, 1950.

V/eitz, Morris, "Analysis and the Unity of Russell's Philosophy," The Philosophy of Bertrand Russell, Evanston, Northivestern University, Library of Living Philosophers, 1946, pp. 55-121. 2 6 5

AÜT03I0GHAPHY

; J Ox-fcxx JJ # ^M»^JUi-«:;XiXXO^ J VJC^O UKJJLll O.XX «Lt? V trjLCVli'^ J V X i X U J

April 4, 1926. I received my secondary scnccl ed.v.oation in the public schools of the cities of 31yria and harion,

Ohio, from 1944 to 1946 I attended lienj'on College, tiansfering to Ohio v/esleyan Universitjr in 1046. I received the degree Bachelor of Arts, v'ith honors, in

1948. Bolloadng completion of my undergrr.duo.te worlc at mid-year, I a’e,s retained at Ohio '.7esle3'-o,n as part-time o.ssistant in philosophy to Professor U'illism P. "^uillian,

Jr., o.nd as Assistant to the Loan Lib re. r ion. In 1949

I received the degree I'o^ster of Arts from The Ohio State

University, having been appointed University Scholar in the fo.ll of 1948. I held this latter position until 1951,

2,t "wiiich time I i-ya,s appointed to my present position as

Sxaduate Assistant in the Leps.rtment of Philosophy, Prom the Summer Quarter 1951 until tiie "Winter Quarter 1952 I \vas Research Assistant to Professor Arthur Salz of the

Department of Economics.