"The Great Ideas Today" series are annual supplements to the Great Books of the Western World set published by
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English Year 1970
The Great Ideas
mm£smsra EDITORS
IN CHIEF:
ROBERT M. HUTCHINS and MORTIMER
Featuring a Symposium:
J.
AOLER
THE IDEA OF REVOLUTION
CONTENTS Part
One
THE IDEA OF REVOLUTION:
'.
A SYMPOSIUM Arnold
J.
Toyn
Ivan lllich
Introduction
Revolutionary Change
The Need
for Cultural Revolution
Anarchism and Revolution
The Sorry Condition
of
Counterrevolutionary Doctrine
The Idea of Revolution in Great Books of the Western World
p au Goodman |
A SPECIAL FEATURE Part
William
F.
Buckley,
Jr.
Beethoven 1770-1827 by Robert Mann
Two
THE YEARS DEVELOPMENTS IN THE ARTS AND SCIENCES WILLIAM LETWIN
Social Science and Practical Problems
KENNETH REXROTH H. B. VEATCH & M. S. GRAM
Literature
R.H.ROBINS
Linguistics
Philosophy and Ethics
Part Three
THE CONTEMPORARY STATUS OF A GREAT IDEA CHAIM PERELMAN
The New Rhetoric: A Theory of Practical Reasoning
Part Four
ADDITIONS TO THE GREAT BOOKS LIBRARY ERASMUS
The Praise of Folly
LENIN SCHILLER
State and Revolution
INDEX
The Death
of Wallenstein, trans,
The Great Ideas Today 1961-1970
by Coleridge
$11
THE GREAT IDEAS TODAY
1970 Editors
in
Chief:
Executive Editor:
ROBERT M. HUTCHINS
and Evil nt
MORTIMER
J.
OTTO BIRD
ADLER
lion
Contributors:
THE IDEA OF REVOLUTION ARNOLD
J.
TOYNBEE,
historian, writer, traveler,
author of the monumental
A Study
of History.
IVAN ILLICH, ral
director of CIDOC, Centro Intercultude Documentacion, Cuernavaca, Mexico.
PAUL GOODMAN, social critic, educator, novelist, dramatist, and an editor of Liberation. WILLIAM
F.
BUCKLEY,
sonality, editor of the
JR., writer, television per-
weekly National Review.
Printed
in
U.S.A.
THE YEAR'S DEVELOPMENTS IN THE ARTS AND SCIENCES WILLIAM LETWIN, professor, London School of Economics, analyzes the role of the social sciences in decision making.
KENNETH REXROTH, poet, novelist, critic, reviews recent developments in literature, especially as a form of protest. HENRY B. VEATCH and MOLTKE sors of philosophy, review
S.
GRAM,
profes-
and analyze recent work in
the field of ethics. R. H.
ROBINS, professor of linguistics, the University examines recent work in and the past
of London,
history of the field of linguistics.
THE CONTEMPORARY STATUS OF A GREAT IDEA CHAIM PERELMAN, professor of philosophy sity of Brussels, writes
about the
new
,
Univer-
rhetoric
practical reasoning.
THE GREAT BOOKS LIBRARY The
Praise of Folly, the satire of the renaissance humanist, Erasmus.
and Revolution, the epoch-making work of Lenin. State
Schiller's Death of Wallenstein translated by Coleridge.
y
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jacket design by
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and
Homer
Nicomachus
Aeschylus
Ptolemy
Sophocles
Marcus Aurelius
Herodotus
Galen
Euripides
Plotinus
Thucydides
Augustine
Hippocrates
Thomas Aquinas
Aristophanes
Dante
Plato
Chaucer
Aristotle
Machiavelli
Euclid
Copernicus
Archimedes
Rabelais
Apollonius
Montaigne
Lucretius
Gilbert
Virgil
Cervantes
Plutarch
Francis Bacon
Tacitus
Galileo
Epictetus
Shakespeare Kepler
Man
Reasoning
Mathematics
Relation
Matter
Religion
Mechanics
Revolution
Medicine
Rhetoric
Memory and
Imagination
Same and Other
Metaphysics
Science
Mind
Sense
Monarchy
Sign and Symbol
Nature
Sin
Necessity and Contingency
Sla\
Oligarchy
Soul
One and Many
Space
Opinion
State
Opposition
Temperance
Philosophy
Theology
Physics
Tii
Pleasure and Pain
Truth
Poetry Principle
Universal and Parti
Progress
Yii
Prophec
War and
Prudenc
Punishment Quality
Quantity
iltli
Will
m rid
The Great Ideas
Today 1970
William Benton, Publisher
Encyclopaedia Britannka, Chicago
•
London
•
Toronto
•
Geneva
•
Sydney
•
Tokyo
•
Inc.
Manila
The Great Ideas Toda3
©
1970 by Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc.
Copyright under International Copyright Union. All rights reserved
under Pan American and Universal Copyright Conventions by Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc.
No
part of this
work may be reproduced or
utilized in
any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publisher.
Printed in the U.S.A. Library of Congress Catalog
Number: 61-65561
Standard Book Number: 0-85229-150-7 State
and Revolution by V.
by International Publishers Co.
I.
Lenin, copyright
Inc.,
is
©
1932, 1943,
reprinted by permission
of International Publishers Co. Inc.
Distributed to the trade by Praeger Publishers, Inc.,
New
York, Washington
070
editors
in
chief
Robert M. Hutchins
Mortimer
EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Adler
OttO Bird
Arnold
contributors
J.
Toynbee
J.
Ivan
Paul William
F.
lllich
Goodman
Buckley,
Robert
Jr.
Mann
William Letwin
Kenneth Rexroth R. H.
H. B. Veatch
and M.
Robins
S.
Gram
Ch. Perelman
William Gorman, Contributing Editor; John Deely, Assistant Editor; William R. Dell, Managing Editor; Will Gallagher, Art Director;
Cynthia Peterson, Art Supervisor; Geoffrey Ward, Picture Editor;
Joan Meyers, Picture J.
Thomas
Beatty, Production
Manager; Anita
Elizabeth Chastain,
Peggy
Editor;
Collins,
Copy
Copy
Donald Rentsch, Designer;
Wolff, Production Coordinator;
Editor;
Mary Reardon, Copy
Editor;
Editor; Carol Stine, Clerical Assistant.
Contents
PART ONE The Idea
of Revolution:
A Symposium 2
Introduction
Arnold
Toynbee
J.
Ivan Mich
Paul
F.
The Idea
A
The Need
Goodman
William
Revolutionary
Change
4
28
for Cultural Revolution
Anarchism and Revolution
Buckley,
Jr.
of Revolution in
The Sorry Condition
44
of
Counterrevolutionary Doctrine
66
Great Books of the Western World
79
SPECIAL FEATURE Robert
Mann
Beethoven
1
770-1 827
85
PART TWO The
Year's Developments in the Arts and Sciences
Social Science and Practical Problems
William Letwin
Kenneth Rexroth R. H.
Robins
H. B. Veatch
138
Literature
178
Linguistics
and M.
Gram
S.
92
Philosophy and Ethics
228
PART THREE The Contemporary Ch. Perelman
Status of a Great Idea
The New Rhetoric: A Theory
of
Practical Reasoning
272
PART FOUR Additions to the Great Books Library Erasmus Lenin Schiller
The Praise
of Folly
State and Revolution
The Death
386
of Wallenstein,
translated by
INDEX1961-1970
314
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
454
531
A NOTE ON REFERENCE STYLE
In the following pages, passages in Great Books of the Western
World
are referred to by the initials
'GBWW,'
page number, and page section. Thus, refers to is
page 210 in
Volume
'b' 'a'
Adam
Smith's
followed by volume,
'GBWW,
The Wealth
Vol. 39, p. 210b'
of Nations,
39 in Great Books of the Western World.
The
which
small letter
indicates the page section. In books printed in single column,
and
'b'
refer to the
upper and lower halves of the page. In books
printed in double column, halves of the left column,
'a'
'c'
and
and
'b'
'd'
refer to the
to the
upper and lower
upper and lower halves
of the right column. For example, 'Vol. 53, p. 210b' refers to the
lower half of page 210, since chology,
is
Volume
printed in single column.
53, James's Principles of Psy-
On
the other hand, 'Vol.
7,
Volume
7,
p. 210b' refers to the lower left quarter of the page, since
Plato's Dialogues,
Gateway
to the
is
printed in double column.
Great Books
is
referred to by the initials 'GGB,'
followed by volume and page number. Thus, 'GGB, Vol. 57' refers to
pages 39 through 57 of
Great Books, which
The Great
Ideas
is
James's essay,
Today
is
Volume
10 of
"The Will
Gateway
pp. 39to the
to Believe."
referred to by the initials 'GIT,'
lowed by the year and page number. Thus 'GIT 1968, to
10,
fol-
p. 510' refers
page 510 of the 1968 edition of The Great Ideas Today.
PART ONE
The Idea of Revolution
A Symposium
Introduction
no doubt thai it has had We seem now to be liva time in which the idea of revolution is again experiencing an upswing in popularity. It is therefore appropriate th.n we consider what we think about revolution and what we should think about it. The West has a long tradition of thinking about the idea of revolution, which is well represented in Great Books of the Weston World. One need
Revolution
is
a
perennial idea. Yet there
is
one time than another.
greatei currency at
i
onl) cite the authors
who
discuss revolution: Plato, Aristotle, Plutarch,
Machiavelli, Hobbes, Shakespeare, Locke, Montesquieu, the authors of
The Federalist, Hegel, Marx, and Engels. In organizing our symposium, was asked our contributors to continue this conversation. Our contributors represent different approaches to the idea of revolu-
None
tion.
State
of
them
To
is
as
such an advocate of immediate violent political
we reprint in Part Four Lenin's and Revolution, which w as w ritten immediately before the violent
revolution.
represent that position, r
overthrow of the Russian
r
state in 1917.
two of our authors find do the other two. Both Illich and Goodman, at least by implication, view sympathetically some of the revolutionary aspirations present in the world today, though both contend that these aspirations need redirecting. Toynbee and Buckley take a more skeptical attitude toward revolution.
Although not advocates
the idea of revolution
The
of violent revolution,
more
greatest difference
attractive than
among our
four authors
lies
in the focus of
Toynbee, as a historian, takes an admittedly long view of the subject and considers how revolutions have arisen their interest in revolution. Dr.
in the history of civilization. Dr. Illich speaks as a representative of the
Third World, an expression that he dislikes and would not deny that the part of the world that it is
criticizes, is
though he
used to designate
often held to be the closest to revolution, even of a violent sort. Per-
haps the most remarkable feature of the current concern about revolution is the emergence of anarchism as an ideal that is considered attractive
and
feasible,
and
this
is
the subject on which Paul
Goodman
writes.
the few anarchist ideals shared by Lenin; in fact, he, after Engels, describes as
practicability,
if
it is
The
one of the essence of what
ideal of a society that can function without the use of coercion
"the withering away of the state."
is
The
im-
not impossibility, of governing without the sanction,
not the actual use, of force
is
if
one of the main contentions of William
Buckley's analysis of what he calls counterrevolutionary doctrine.
The
part of our symposium consists of an attempt to delineate main contours of the discussion of revolution as it is found Great Books of the Western World. least
last
the
at
in
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in' ih .^
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p nan, i
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-M^^L-
Arnold Arnold
Toynbee
J.
the world for his
J.
Toynbee
known throughout
is
monumental work, A Study
cf History (12 volumes, 1934-61). In the
eighty-one years since he was born
London
in
he has been
(April 14, 1889),
indefatigable not only as a writer and traveler, but also
worked
for his
as a
world wars, served
conferences
in
man
of affairs.
He
government during both at the Paris
peace
1919 and 1946, and was
director of studies for the Royal Institute of International Affairs
from 1925 to 1955.
His books run to over twenty-five
and deal mainly with affairs, religion,
and
titles
history, international travel. After
tory school at Winchester,
prepara-
he followed the
traditional classical curriculum at Balliol
College, Oxford, where he remained as a tutor
from
1
91 2 to
1
91
5. In
1
91
9,
he began
his long association with the University
of
London, from which he
He continues
to write,
retired in 1955.
and
last
year saw
the appearance of his autobiographical
Experiences.
Change
Revolutionary
Every evil.
revolution
is
and it is not even always the lesser no choice between alternative evils. pitch at which a revolution has become
a misfortune,
In some situations there
Social tension has risen to a
is
unavoidable.
The
reason
why
a revolution
is
a misfortune
that "the times are out of joint." Its outbreak
is
is
that
it
is
a
symptom
a sign that the traditional
structure of society has ceased to answer to the conditions, needs, and
demands of at least a portion of the members of the society that is numerous enough, or strong enough, to have the power to change the structure of society by force, if its demands continue to be resisted by the reigning "establishment." These are the circumstances in which revolu-
The
to
change the
established institutions of the society by violence in order to
make them
tions occur.
answer,
more or
The makers
objective of the makers of revolutions
less,
to
is
contemporary conditions, needs, and demands.
They Few people who are
of a revolution are usually a minority of a minority.
are dissident representatives of the "establishment."
not members of the ruling to take the initiative in
The
class have the power and the self-connck jnce attempting to overthrow the established order.
leaders are, however, unlikely to succeed unless the\
the passive support of the mass of the people. This truth
is
have
at
least
illustrated b)
and the second on the whole, singularly conservative and stable during the three thousand yean and more for which this ancient Egyptian civilization lasted. The "Old Kingdom"— a stage of Egyptian history that reached its acme in the time of the pyramid-builders— was brought to an end b) a revolt! the contrast between two revolutions— the
successful
first
abortive— in the history of Pharaonic Egypt,
a
society
that was,
was successful and violent. We have retrospective glimpses i the restabilization ol it in some of the literature that was written aftei Egyptian society in the "Middle Kingdom." This firs! Egyptian revolution was violent, because the burden placed on the backs ol the mass ol the people had eventually become intolerable. We do not know who the revolutionary leaders were, but we do know that, whoeva the) were, the tion that
Pyramids near Cairo, Egypt
y
^^a "Pharaonic Egypt, a society that was, on the whole, singularly conservative and stable"
The Idea of Revolution
people followed them. This revolution that liquidated the "Old King-
both social and mental. The might) were put down from their and the humble and meek were exalted, and this social revolution was evidently accompanied b) a loss ol faith in the efficacy and the value of the previous regime, under which a pharaoh and his courtiers had sought to win immortality lor themselves by requiring the mass of the people to carr) out giganti< public works. Originally the workers may have been docile and may even have believed that the labor that was being exacted horn them was due from them and was worthwhile. But in the end the) lost both their faith and their patience, and, when they
dom" was seat,
"Old
revolted, the
The second tive
Kingdom"
collapsed.
Egyptian history— this time an aborwas made, nearly a thousand years after the collapse of the one— revolution in ancient
"Old Kingdom/' by one of the rulers of the "New Kingdom," Akhenaten. As a pharaoh, Akhenaten had absolute power, and he used it to attempt to make a revolution in almost every department of Egyptian life: in art, in literature, and in religion above all. But though Akhenaten was an allpowerful individual, he remained an isolated one. He had only a handful of followers, and therefore, after his death, the "establishment" which he had temporarily deposed was able to make a counterrevolution which the people accepted passively. is a resort to violence, and therefore, like war, seldom or never attains the objectives that its makers have had in view. Sometimes its aftereffect is actually to reinstate and aggravate the ancien regime against which it has revolted and which its
Revolution, like war,
it is
costly,
and
it
makers believe that they have swept away. In France, for instance, recognizable elements of the ancien regime have reasserted themselves again and again since the Revolution of 1789. In Russia, the present Communist regime has reproduced the tyranny of the czardom, though the new Communist "establishment" in Russia claims to have made a complete break with the past. This tendency of a revolution to topple into reaction is discussed further at a later point in this essay.
Revolution is
inevitable,
Change
is
is
a violent
form of change, and, in
human
affairs,
change
but the process of change need not be revolutionary.
inevitable in the
first
place because
all
human
action produces
and in the second place because human manners and customs are handed on from one generation to another mainly b\ tradition, which is mutable, and only to a minor extent by immutable instincts "built into" the psychosomatic structure of the species and trans-
a certain
amount
of change,
mitted by physical procreation.
It is
impossible for a younger generation—
and cultural herihanded on by a process of education in word. Even when the younger generation is
or series of generations— to take over, intact, the social tage that an older generation has
the broadest
meaning
of the
conformist-minded and not rebellious-minded, ing over and handing on, in
its
it
does not succeed in tak-
turn, the ancestral tradition in exactly
Arnold
J.
Toynbee
the form in which this has been presented. This inevitability of change
human
by the notorious impossibility of preservgrammar, and pronunciation of some phase of a language that has been consecrated as being "classical." Later generations may try their hardest to retain the classical form of their language, but invariably they fail sooner or later. In spite of all efforts, the living speech diverges farther and farther from the arbitrary classical standard until eventually the classical form of the language becomes "dead." A would-be Latin-speaking people, for instance, had sooner or later to recognize the truth that it was now speaking no longer Latin but Italian or Spanish or French. in
affairs is illustrated
ing, unchanged, the syntax,
Thus change
is
inevitable in
human
evolutionary rather than revolutionary.
affairs,
The
but the process can be
structure of society can be
answer to the changing conditions, needs, and demands of the and that can therefore peacefully, because they are being made before the new conditions have diverged so far from the old structure that the social misfit has set up an emotional tension. This evolutionary process of adjustment
changed
to
members be made
is
the
of society by adjustments that are timely
way
in
which changes in human
about according
mutamur
to the
medieval Latin
deemed to be brought "Tempora mutantur, et nos
affairs are
tag:
("Times change, and we change with them"). In this change is assumed to be a matter of course. However, when we survey the span of recorded history, we see that this assumption is too optimistic. Within the period from which records survive, we have evidence that there have been many revolutions. The revolution that liquidated the "Old Kingdom" of Egypt in the second half of the third millennium B.C. had a contemporary counterpart in the lower basin of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, the present-da) Iraq. Since then, revolutions have become more frequent. No later civilization has been so stable as the ancient Egyptian civilization was. in illis"
line of verse the evolutionary process of
However, the period of recorded history, in the literal sense of tin from which we have some surviving written records, is infinitesimall) short compared to the age of the human race. The earliest systems ot writing were invented barely five thousand years ago, whereas the pieliterate period of human history ma\ have been a million yean Ion-. Fortunately we do have some information about this major pai ot human history. We are informed about it, not In surviving contemporary writ ings, but by surviving contemporary tools, and tools an- coeval with Man himself. Indeed, it is possible that out ancestors were already making tools t
human, and that the invention making was one (though only one) of the innovations that enabled them to achieve this portentous advance. before they became
ol
in
the art
tool
«>l
then wa)
ol
life
Tools are our only surviving evidence foi the histor) ol human affairs during by far the greater part ol human history, and the) are good evidence as far as they go. It would, however, he a mistake to assume, on
The Idea
of Revolution
this account,
ditions of
mands
life
that
were ever the sole agents of change in the conand therefore the sole sources of the new needs and de-
that tools
l>\ new conditions. If we consider the history hundred years, we shall recognize that the foundphilosophies, and ideologies have had at least as
were generated
of the latest twenty-five
new
ers oi
religions,
potent an effect on the course of
human
affairs as the
inventors of
new
excluding the inventors of tools for use as weapons); and, as luck into the past as our written records reach, we have evidence
tools (not tai
that religion was as important a factor in
This
is
also true today of the
portions of the
human
race.
way
human
of life of the
We may
infer that
it
life as
still
technology was.
relatively primitive
has been true, likewise,
became human, although, during most of the intervening time, Man's spiritual life and the changes in his spiritual outlook have left no memorials. Even the cave paintings dating from the comparatively recent Upper Paleolithic Age enable us only to make un\ei ifiable guesses at the character of the religious and magical beliefs to
ever since our ancestors
first
which these paintings may, or may not, bear witness. By our time the advance in technology has shot far ahead of the advance in religion and morals, but our surviving records show that this is a recent phenomenon in human affairs. In the sixth century B.C., Man's spirit shot ahead of his technology. We may guess (though this guess is hazardous) that in the times before the beginning of recorded history, when rates of change in all dimensions of life were slow, Man's technol-
and his spiritual and social life kept pace with each other, more or and that therefore the changes in Man's tools, during the period from which nothing but his tools survives, give a fair measure of the rate ogy
less,
of change in all sides of
human
human
life.
If
we now survey
the total span of
our evidence for the period before written records begin, we shall find that the medieval tag was not so far from the truth after all. In human history viewed as a whole, evolution has been the rule, and revolution has been the exception. In fact, it is safe history, taking tools as
to say that
during the major part of because during
sibility of revolutions,
the conditions of
life,
human
was no posperiod the pace of change in and therefore also in needs and in demands, history, there
this
was so slow that the necessary corresponding changes in institutions were bound to be brought about by the evolutionary process of gradual adjustment.
The It
possibility of revolution
no accident that the medieval Latin tag was written at a time in West European history at which the conditions of were changing slowly, by comparison with the rate of change in the
is
the recent period of 10
life
Arnold
J.
Toynbee
times that immediately preceded and immediately followed the Western
Middle Ages. Of course, even
in the darkest patch of the so-called
compared to the same region.
Ages, the pace was precipitate
Lower
Age
Dark
the pace in the time of the
the medieval pace was Middle Ages, to assume that evolution, not revolution, is the normal way in which changes are made. In the present-day Western world this assumption would be unconvincing; it would be too much at variance with present-day facts; for in our day we are living in the state of "permanent revolution" that is written, both as a fact and as an ideal, into the present Mexican constitution. The measuring rod for gauging the pace of change in human affairs is the average length of a human being's life from the dawn of consciousPaleolithic
enough
just slow
ness
till
to
in
make
it
Still,
plausible, in the
dotage or death. In the Lower Paleolithic Age, the expectation
was considerably shorter than it is today among the minority of the world's population that already enjoys the benefits of modern medicine. But even this slightly protracted expectation of life is minimal compared to the age of the human race and also compared to that major portion of this time during which mankind has lived under Lower Paleoof life
conditions of
lithic
life.
an archaeological museum in which there is a display of successive types of Lower Paleolithic tools coming from all parts of the habitable surface of the globe, we find a remarkable worldwide uniformity in the representatives of each type of tool. This uniformity of If
we
visit
Lower
Paleolithic tools is reminiscent of the uniformity of present-da\ but the reason for the uniformity is, of course, not the same. We know why there is a worldwide uniformity in the types of presentday tools. Today, we have so efficient a network of worldwide means of communication that a tool that has been invented in one place will altools,
most instantly be carried to all other parts of the world and will be copied and adopted there. The speed of the worldwide adoption of each successive type is so great that it exceeds the speed of innovation. Each type in
its
turn comes into worldwide use before
type— and
this
munications, In the
were his
is
though the speed
it
is
superseded In
new
a
of innovation, like the speed of
com-
accelerating.
Lower Paleolithic Age, Man's only means of communication feet, and his means of transport were limited to the maximum
load that he could carry as he walked.
and were widely
Human
scattered, because, in that age,
ing his livelihood were so inefficient that individual was required in order to enable ing. In these circumstances,
any type of
a a
tool
communities were small Mans means oi gather-
large area of territory
pa
community
liv-
to
earn
itv
must have taken hundreds
and thousands of years to be disseminated from its place ol origin. rhere must have been few opportunities Foi passing it on from one community to another, and, even when a communit) did acquire a tool >! a new
The Idea
of Revolution
[\\)v from its distant nearest neighbor, we may guess that it will have been slow to copy and adopt the new type, since small isolated communities are apt to be conservative-minded. The reason why, nevertheless,
cadi
Lower
come
type of tool did eventually
Paleolithic
into world-
wide use was that the pace of technological progress was almost incon-
and therefore there was it was superseded l)\ a new type. This is surely evidence that, throughout the Lower Paleolithic Age, people were unconscious of technological change or an) other kind of change within the span of a single lifetime, and ceivabl) slow, judged by present-da) standards,
time tor each type of tool to spread
we may guess
that, insofar as
adapted his institutions fact in
all
over the world before
changes did occur, Lower Paleolithic
to these
changes unconsciously,
easily,
Man
and
in
an evolutionary, not a revolutionary, way.
When, in the archaeological museum, we pass from the Lower to the Upper Paleolithic room, we have the impression of witnessing a revolution. The improvement in technology, as between the Upper and the Lower Paleolithic ages, looks abrupt when compared with the virtual stagnation of technology throughout the Lower Paleolithic Age. Yet this impression of a revolutionary change can be seen to be illusory when we measure the rate of the invention of Upper Paleolithic tools by our measuring rod of a
human
lifetime. Relatively swift
advance came to be at last at this stage, in any generation in the probably long ventors of
Upper
first
was
though the technological still so slow that no one
series of
generations of the
in-
Paleolithic tools will have been aware that the tech-
nological conditions of
The
it
life
were changing within his
lifetime.
people to become aware of a revolutionary technological
change must have been the users of Lower Paleolithic tools who encountered users of Upper Paleolithic tools. The mutual isolation of communities had
now
resulted in one group of communities forging ahead
in technology while the rest of
mankind remained
stationary.
Techno-
on those who achieve it, and the inwould therefore have impinged on the Lower Paleolithic majority of the human race. This experience must have confronted its Lower Paleolithic victims with a choice between making a revolution and going under. They had now to copy and to learn to use the more efficient tools of their Upper Paleolithic tool-using conlogical progress confers mobility
ventors of
Upper
Paleolithic tools
temporaries if they were not to be exterminated; if they succeeded in adopting the new technology, they would develop new needs and would
make new demands; and these sudden new conditions, needs, and mands would require a rapid adjustment of traditional institutions.
The Yerba Buena section
of
San Francisco: an
original city
house against a new
building
"in our
day we are
living in the state of
'permanent revolution'
"
de-
office
juu
JUIJ
Villagers of
'Here
Ecuador
we have put
a finger on one of the causes of revolutions. This cause is the technological and spiritual change as between different sections of the human race." difference
\v**P*
.
.
.
in the rates of
The Idea of Revolution
Causes I
it-ic
cause
of revolution
we have put
on one of the causes
Bngei
a
the difference, since the beginning oi the
is
and
the rates of technological
in
spiritual
revolutions. This
oi
Upper
change
as
Paleolithic Age,
between different
race. When a more backward community is immore advanced community, the situation in the more backward community becomes potentially revolutionary. There arc mam examples of this phenomenon in quite recent history. Within the modern Western society, for instance, the French political
sections of the
human
pinged upon In
a
Revolution of 1789 was not inspired solely by dissatisfaction with the failure of the ancien regime to adapt itself to contemporary conditions
knowledge and emulation, among and in the United States. The development of constitutional government in Britain in the seventeenth century had been studied by the eighteenth-century
of French
was also inspired by
life. It
a
the leaders of the Revolution, of previous events in Britain
French philosophes, and, even the seventeenth-century
if it is
British
who had
officers
The
their
The
nonetheless influential in France.
from British rule had been
true that they partly misinterpreted
facts,
assisted
presentation
of
encounter each other are not
liberation of the United States
by a French army, and one of the
more acute when
is
sister
the two parties that communities within the same society
but are different societies whose characters differ more widely. the revolutionary effect of the impact of a
of
was
served in this campaign was Lafayette.
revolutionary situation
example
these
A
classic
more potent modern West
on weaker alien societies is the impact of the on Russia, Egypt, Turkey, Japan, and China. In each of these confrontations with the West, the society that has suffered the impact has found civilization
itself
forced to revolutionize
Whether
its
traditional institutions sooner or later.
or not these traditional institutions
be adequate for the non-Western society
if
would have continued to had been able to con-
it
tinue to live in isolation, they proved totally inadequate for enabling the
threatened society to
required
if
it
conquest and conditions of
was if
life,
mands, that were
and
ideas,
The
to
was
it
make hold
the adjustments in
its
own
cope successfully with the changes in its domestic and the consequent changes in its needs and its de-
set in
motion by the
all
from outside, the
institutions needs to be.
the
Western technology,
history of the non-Western civilizations since they
to this challenge
16
infiltration of
ideals.
Westernizing revolution that the
its
institutions that were
to
the West's impact shows that the
of
its
against Western economic or military
The
first
experienced
more prompt and more thorough the threatened society makes in response less
violent the revolutionary recasting
saving virtue of promptness has been
more important because, during
the period in which the
West
Arnold
Toynbee
J.
has been making its impact on the rest ol the world, the Western w of life itself has been changing all the time at an ever-accelerating pace. Peter the Great, lor instance, was to the
prompt
contemporary Western way
in
adapting Russian institutions
oi life in the late sixteen
and
earl)
seventeen hundreds. In 1825, however, Czar Nicholas I crushed the Dekabrists' attempt to bring up to date Russia's adjustment to the continuing
changes in the Western civilization. The penalty for the Dekabrists' failure in 1825 was the belated, and therefore far more extreme and violent,
Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. Similarly, the halfheartedness and
dilatoriness of the Westernizing reforms that were started in
Turkey
in
the late seventeen and early eighteen hundreds had to be paid for by the
radicalism of the revolution that was carried out by Mustafa Atatiirk in the 1920s. First
By
the time that
World War, nothing
less
Turkey had been defeated
Kemal in the
saved the Turkish
drastic could have
people from being subjugated and perhaps even extinguished. Again, the rejection of the Western civilization by China and Japan
Western Question" for the assault on Eastern Asia had been repulsed, the West continued to develop at an accelerating pace. During the period for which China and Japan succeeded in virtually insulating themselves from the West, the West itself went through the British Industrial Revolution, the French Political Revolution, and a general Western scientific revolution, which had not merely intellectual but also religious effects. The transformation of the Western peoples' picture of the universe, through the discoveries made b) Western geoloin the seventeenth century did not solve "the
peoples of Eastern Asia.
gists
and
biologists,
Christianity,
Though
the West's
undermined the
first
belief in the West's ancestral religion,
and thereby potentially undermined the
belief in all the rest
of the world's traditional religions. Thus, when, in the nineteenth century, the West made its second assault on Eastern Asia, it was equipped this time with new and far more powerful weapons, and the most potent of these new weapons were not material armaments; the) wen- ideologi
democracy, and later communism. This new challenge from the West evoked very different responses in China and in Japan. The Japanese decided in 1868 that their onl) chance of coping successfully with the West la) in deliberately putting [apan through a Westernizing revolution. The intention ot the makers of the Meiji Revolution was to transform not the whole ot Japanese life but first
only so
much
as
would make
it
possible
toi
[apan
to
hold her
own
in a
world in which the West had become dominant. Then immediate objc< tive was to equip Japan with Western-style armaments thai would make he) realized thai Westernher a match for an) ol the Western powers. ol technology, science, style Western would a armaments style require thetill eventual defeat and it not was bui education, and government; the.n end ot the Second States United military occupation of Japan b) the 1
The Idea
of Revolution
World War
the Westernization
that
Japan was carried virtually to
of
completion. Japan's revolutionary response to Western pressure was more prompt than China's was. Japan made the Meiji Revolution 1868 without having been goaded into this h\ an) humiliating defeat
All the same, far ol
the hands ol a Western power. The sight ol Commodore Perry's guns had been enough; Japan had not waited to receive a broadside. On the Other hand, China's humiliation— thirty years before Japan's Meiji Revolution—in the Opium War had not aroused the Chinese to take any similar revolutionary action. In China the inevitable Westernizing revoat
lution
hung
for
fire
more than
further humiliation after another.
a It
century, while
was not
till
China suffered one
the 1940s that the Chi-
upon themselves to make a genuine Westernizing coming so late in the day as it came, this took the radical communism. In fact, China paid as high a price for having failed
nese people prevailed revolution, and,
form of to
make her
first
W esternizing revolution r
in the 1840s as Russia paid for
the miscarriage of her abortive second Westernizing revolution in 1825.
The
acceleration in the rate of change that has aggravated the effect
impact on the rest of the world is not a new phenomenon in though it is a recent one in terms of the age of the human race. It is the most intense phase arrived at so far, in a process of acceleration that started, so far as we know, when, perhaps thirty thousand years ago, the Upper Paleolithic way of life broke in upon the perhaps oneof the West's
human
history,
million-year-old torpor of the
Lower
Paleolithic Age. Ever since then, the
process of change in the conditions of
human
life
has been gathering
speed.
The
innovators
who have
driven the rest of
tionary changes in order to keep pace with
mankind
to
make
revolu-
them have not always been
the same section of mankind. The torch— an inflammatory torch— has been handed from one society to another. Most of our evidence for Upper Paleolithic Man's way of life comes from tools of his that have been discovered in Europe. Most of the evidence for the next spurt of acceleration at the dawn of the Neolithic Age, perhaps eight thousand years ago, comes from the outer rim of the "Fertile Crescent" in southwest Asia. This next spurt brought with it not only the art of grinding stone tools, which has given the Neolithic Age its label, but the equally important arts of agriculture and animal husbandry, spinning and weaving, potterymaking and navigation. The third spurt was the dawn of civilization about five thousand years ago. This was signaled by an innovation that was social rather than
technological.
The
jungle swamps of the lower Tigris-Euphrates basin
and the lower Nile basin were now drained and irrigated, and these great feats of civil engineering must have been achieved by the organization of the labor of large numbers of human beings who had been persuaded or
Arnold
coerced into working for long-term objectives.
wielded
this
The unknown
J.
Toynbee
leaders
"man-power" must have had both great administrative
who
abilitv
and great personal magnetism. The fruit of their leadership was that, the former jungle swamps had been transformed into unprece-
when
fields, societies were created that, for the first time in were able to produce a surplus beyond the minimum human and shelter. During these last five thousand years food requirements of the greater part of this surplus has been spent on the destructive game of war. The margin of the surplus that has been spent on fostering the arts of peace has been the source of all improvements in the conditions of human life that have been achieved since then.
dentedly
fertile
history,
The most
recent of the successive spurts
is
that started in Britain about two centuries ago
while,
first
to the rest of the
modern Western
the rest of the world. This
all
still
is
the Industrial Revolution
and
that has spread
society,
and then
mean-
to almost
the spurt in which we, in our time, are
being swept along at a pace and with a
momentum
that are ever
increasing. It is
evident that, with every increase in the pace of change in the
conditions of
life,
it
becomes increasingly
difficult
to
make
therefore peaceful adjustments of traditional institutions.
not surprising that,
when we
survey the
last thirty
timely and
It is
therefore
thousand, eight thou-
and two hundred years of mankind's history, we find revolutions becoming ever more frequent and more violent. Technolo_ systematized and reinforced by science, has now obliterated the natural environment in which the human race came into existence and has oversand, five thousand,
it with an artificial man-made environment. This man-mack- new world of ours is both material and mental. We have conjured up for ourselves a new technological apparatus and a new outlook on the universe, and, in performing this double conjuring trick, we have set ourselves the
laid
problem of creating new life
social
and
make
religious institutions that will
possible in these entirely novel circumstances.
It has been suggested already that, perhaps not more than about thii t\ thousand years ago, on the eve of the advent of the Upper Paleolithic Age, our Lower Paleolithic ancestors were still unconscious of am change
in the conditions of life within a single lifetime, or indeed within
a
span
on end. In our time, a human being, between the dawn of his consciousness and his dotage or death, ma) find himself challenged to make as many and as momentous changes in his personal wa) ol Ideas his ancestors made gradually in the coins.- ol man) aeons Learning to use an ever-changing output of new material apparatus is the- hast ol contemporary man's difficulties. He- mav also dud that his ancestral religion has given way under his feet, and that he has to make- his arduous and painful journey through life in a state- ol spiritual nakedness. It is no wonder that these extreme demands, on contemporary societj .mil on its of
many
lifetimes
u
U.S. soldier and watchdog guard nose cones Germany, 1958
"A second
of our glaring misfits is that
year-old habit of going to war"
for
we have
Matador guided missiles
in
West
not yet discarded the five-thousand-
Arnold
members,
for revolutionary readjustments of the traditional
matters that touch
human
aise that rankles into
The Nor
life to
J.
Toynbee
regime in
the quick should have produced a mal-
an unrest which
finally boils over into violence.
situation today
is it
surprising that in our time the misfit between traditional
insti-
and actual conditions, needs, and demands should have become almost intolerable. Try as we may to recast our institutions and our beliefs to keep pace with the accelerating changes in our way of life, we are failing, at present, to win this desperate race. A full catalog of present misfits would be endless. We must illustrate them by picking out a few of the most flagrant of them. There is, for instance, a glaring misfit between our inherited institutions and the present facts on the political plane. Today the surface of tutions
our planet states; yet
is still
we
partitioned politically
unified the whole habitable
planet and in which afield
than
this, to
we
147 sovereign independent
some
and traversable part
are reaching out to the
of the surface of this
moon
and, far further
of the other planets that travel, as our
round our
travels, in elliptical orbits
A
among
are living in an age in which the progress of technology has
second of our glaring misfits
is
own
planet
sun.
that
we have not
yet discarded the
five-thousand-year-old habit of going to war, though the accelerating ad-
vance of technology has
Technology may prove planet in order to
make
now equipped
to it
us with annihilating weapons. have knit together the whole surface of this a potential arena for atomic or bacteriological
warfare; and, so long as local sovereignty survives, wars,
our command, continue
waged with the
since most deadly weapons at going to war is the principal prerogative of sovereignty. The third of the particularly glaring misfits has been touched upon already. Our new scientific knowledge has discredited our traditional religions and the traditional codes of morals that are so closely bound up with traditional religion, and we have not yet found even a stopgap to plug this devastating and demoralizing spiritual vacuum. These misfits explain why the rising generation is toda) in a recalcitrant and rebellious mood— particularly the university students, whose educa tion makes them aware that the times are out of joint and whose assemblage on university campuses gives them opportunities tor debate that is
apt to find vent in action.
The
to be possible,
rising generation sees thai the dispai
it\
l»
i
ballot 111
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems Preference Table
Number Temperature
of
persons
preferri ng
below 60° 60
Cumulative total
it
10
10 18
8 12 12
61
62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70
30 42 57 75 105 138 188 228 248 268 280 290 297 302 310
15 18
30 33 50 40 20 20
71
72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 above 79°
12 10 7 5 8
311
1
312 313
1 1
313
Although the candidates had only a sparse sample to work from, it deeply and guessed as well as they could. Eventually, at the last possible moment, just as the ballot was going off to the printer, each made his pledge. One, who came to be called "Mr. Hot," promised to keep the pool at 73°; his opponent, thereafter known as "Mr. Cold," 2.
they pondered
pledged 68°.
Cold won
a landslide victory. All the
for him, of course. All those
members who preferred 68° voted
who wanted
temperatures lower than 68°
voted for him as w ell, even while castigating him for being not cold enough. And in the center, those who preferred 69° and 70° also voted r
for
him
as the "lesser of
two
evils,"
to Cold's 68° than to Hot's 73°.
the votes of every
reasoning that 70°
is
marginally closer
For similar reasons, Mr. Hot received
member who wanted
71° or over. Mr. Cold received
248 votes to Mr. Hot's 65, a result whose correctness
is
confirmed by the
preference table later ascertained at great expense by objective research workers.
The
election was rightly regarded as a
triumph
of democracy, for the
members got what they wanted: their total dissatisfaction was less at 68° than it would have been at 73°. But some members, of all persuasions, regarded the victory as a just reward for Mr. Cold, a reward for his political skill, politics being their term for the art of guessing what mem-
Most members regarded Mr. Hot's defeat as just retribution "extremism" in proposing 73°, and they said that his resounding defeat disqualified him from ever running for the regulatorship again— though cynics were heard to mutter that if the candidates had happened
bers want. for his
112
William Letwin
both to pledge temperatures two degrees lower, Cold would have seemed Hot not at all extreme.
not very skillful and
The
provoked a great deal of speculation among the memwhat might have happened had things gone a bit differently. Suppose both candidates had guessed the same? What if both had promised 68°? Obviously the members would have been very perplexed on receiving the ballot. Some might have tossed a coin. Some would have been swayed by "irrelevant" considerations: the look of Mr. Hot's ears or a fancied slight suffered some time ago from Mr. Cold, or one's great charm or the other's well-known rectitude, certified by his well-known poverty. Some members would have been unable to reach a decision, and others would not have bothered to send in their ballots. Yet none of these defections from responsible membership would have mattered, for whichever candidate won, the club would still have achieved the ideal democratic solution of 68°, ideal because it would cause the least dissatisfaction all around. Even if some of the members had voted "irrationally," or failed to vote, the democratic ideal would have been achieved. It was only 3.
election
bers as to
necessary that both candidates should have guessed correctly the state of the members' preferences.
One
peculiarly reflective
member even extended
this finding (or over-
extended it, for such is the characteristic vice of the reflective) to politic s. He maintained that in a nation whose candidates are good at guessing how citizens feel, it does not much matter whether all the citizens vote.
And
he offered
as evidence the fact that presidential candidates in the
must be rather good at guessing, since in most elections each candidate came remarkably close to getting 50 percent of the votes, so that it did not as much indicate poor citizenship as intelligent laziness it man) Americans did not trouble to vote. To which his critics asked how he U.S.
whether the vote would be split nearly so evenly if all the He was silenced, though left feeling that there might be more to say on that score later. In supposing what might have happened, some asked this question: What if both the candidates had made the same guess, and the guess had been wrong? Suppose both had promised f).r)°. One candidate, again,
could
tell
citizens did vote.
would have been elected for some random reasons or other, but the memThis supposition bers would not have been well served by that election made them fear that in future elections they might not be offered "a real choice" by the two candidates.
A committee
was established
to investigate
electoral systems with a view to insuring thai "a real choice"
would
U
offered in each annual election of the regulator. 4.
Let us examine the likely evolution thereaftei
1
politics
m
the
Triton Club. At the next election Mr. Cold would have little- incentive to alter his platform, having won handil\ last time, whereas Mi. Hot
would have every incentive
to
move
c
lose]
to
Colds position
so
.is
to
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems
garner a larger share of the votes; and it as a result they stood this time for 68° and 69°, the election would still go to Cold, though by the reduced majority of 188 to 125. Suppose
now
that during the third election, ex-
on the cold side (those who preferred 65° or under) started applying pressure on Mr. Cold, threatening that they would refuse to vote for him unless he changed his policy in their direction; and suppose he guessed (correctly, as it happened) that if they carried out their threat, he would lose the election; he might conclude that he had better alter his policy from 68° to 67°. Mr. Hot might then, in view of his last two failures, happily alter his policy from 69° to 68°; and now at last Mr. Hot would be elected, by 175 to 138. It should be noticed, however, that though the candidates (or parties) in office had now changed, the social policy being pursued remained the same throughout and was, in fact, tremists
the ideal policy. 5. Lest it be thought, however, that the ideal social choice would emerge from each election campaign, consider what happened in the year following. The extremists on the cold side spent the time before the election grousing and organizing, their complaint being that neither of the major parties offered any "real choice" and their endeavor being to launch a third party, which would give their views a chance of prevailing. They were successful in introducing a third candidate into the next election, a candidate who committed himself to 63°, while Mr. Cold altered his pledge this time from 67° down to 66°— in the hope of holding some of the less extreme extremists— while Mr. Hot took the occasion to revert
to a slightly
warmer pledge
Cold, 81; Super-cold, 57.
of 69°.
And
The
election results were; Hot, 175;
so the pool
was warmed up
to 69°.
The
upshot, in short, of the effort of extremists to express their views through a candidate "of their
temperature
own" was
now chosen
entirely destructive:
suit the extremists less well
not only did the
than
if
they had
never started their movement, but it suited the whole community less well, since at 69° the total dissatisfaction in the community was higher than it
had been 6.
at 68°.
Thereafter, recognizing
of the
how
their political system
Triton Club generally declined
worked, members
to foster third parties, ideological
dogmatic candidates. They knew that the tastes of individual to time and that new members shifted the a whole, but they relied on competition among candidates for office to result in a tendency toward the ideal social parties, or
members changed from time tastes of the membership as policy.
114
To extract literal "lessons" from a parable is seldom welcome. Precise models of this sort have been systematically analyzed by Guy Black, Anthony Downs, James Buchanan and Gordon Tullock, and William Riker, and by many others now working on the theory of elections. It is enough to say that the theory does illuminate some tendencies in the real world— such as the long domination of American politics by two and only
William Letwin
That
an aid to understanding and, for that But knowledge of the theory cannot guarantee practical success in politics. It can tell the politician, if he listens, what he needs to do to win. It cannot tell him how to do it
two
parties.
may
reason,
the theory
is,
also be
an aid
is
to practice.
effectively.
Techniques
policies of an organization
for formulating
Systems analysis
Much
of decision theory starts
men
through which
structure. All of
or
them— state
committee— all are
from the premise that the organizations of their ends have a common formal
many
achieve
or party, military unit or business firm, club
systems.
This premise
weighty practical implications that
much
during the past twenty years, in establishing and teasing out its implications. In
common
A
regarded as having such
been spent, mainly
a precise definition of system
speech, system refers to an ordered whole, a whole whose
parts are differentiated
unconnected
is
effort has
bits.
and
articulated, not a
The language
mere
collection of similar,
of experts does not depart
system, in the words of R. L. Ackoff,
is
"any
entity,
from
this sense.
conceptual or
and he instances "philocommunications systems, control syssophical systems, systems, tems, educational systems, and weapon systems." But the specific subclass
physical,
which
consists of interdependent parts,"
number
that concerns the social sciences, including the theory of decision,
havioral systems, those whose components, some or
are
all,
human
be-
is
beings,
moving, changing, acting, or— in the dialect of the sciences— behaving. Under the influence of the German biologist Ludwig von Bertalanffy,
who first advanced the idea in human organizations as "open
1932,
it
is
now common
systems." This
is
terminologizing, of giving an obscure thing a novel it
will pierce the mystery.
means
A
good deal
a system that enters into
is
also to classify
not a mere matter of
name
in the
hope
that
implied by "open system."
transactions with
its
environment,
Ii
as
which is in principle isolated from everything between open systems and their environment have the same generic character, whatever the particulai species oi system. They draw energy and materials from the environment, the) transform those inputs, and they emit outputs. Moreover, in the normal case there is a reflexive relationship between outputs and inputs, so th.it the outputs
distinct
from
a closed system
outside. Transactions
in
some degree "cause" the ingestion All this
is
ol
subsequ< nt inputs.
readily illustrated by considering an)
Individual animal,
an open system. Its inputs are air, light, food, water, sound, dust, and so on; these are transformed within the system, resulting in lies outputs; waste products arc- ejected, signals given (in the loim ot
which
is itself
i
or gestures), and above
all,
the animal
moves from one
locale to anotlu
1
115
Social Science
And
it is
and
Practical
Problems
by those motions or purposive actions, which necessarily make
up part of the animals
total output, that
acquires the next dose of
it
inputs. Similarly, to turn to an organization, a (actor) can be recognized
an open system,
as
its
inputs being power and raw material, which
transforms into outputs, products which
it
it
emits into the environment,
thereby earning the income with which it acquires further inputs of power and raw material. These examples are so obvious that they obscure the force of the analytic point: to say that
open systems is analyze any sort
to assert that
it
human
all
possible,
and the
an unfamiliar way
we
large, although, as
its
organizations are
even
useful,
of organization in terms of
functions, outputs, clearly,
is
essential,
to
inputs, transformation
on
reflexive effect of outputs
inputs. It
is,
to analyze a political party or the state at
been applied
shall see, systems analysis has recently
to the analysis of political organizations.
Another
characteristic of an
open system
is
that being a system
human
organization
is
not a meteor, hardly seen
a certain durability: a
before dead. Like any animal it
survive but
it
retains
self-regulation, or, to
toward
its
survives for a time,
it
shape,
it
conserves
others, yet all the while
it
it
takes in
has
and not only does
itself. It
has capacities for
adopt the language of the systems
a "steady state." It works,
it
theorist,
it
tends
some things and sends out
remains fundamentally unchanged, or
it
changes
way that makes each of its stages a recognizable relative of the stage before and the stage after. The steady state is maintained by mechanisms known generically as "negative-feedback devices." These are mechanisms, in a
in the loosest sense of that word, is
whereby some
of the output of a system
used to alter inputs and outputs in such a way as to restore the steady
any departure from it. A thermostat within a house-heating commonest example; warm-blooded animals employ devices analogous to a thermostat to maintain their internal temperatures in a steady state— sweating and shivering are means for altering internal temperature in response to a meter that indicates departure from the norm. But again it is when one moves from animals to organizations that systems analysis is perplexing and may possibly, in the future, become revealing. Do human organizations tend toward a steady state, are they selfregulating, do they exhibit feedback mechanisms? Certainly they retain their identity over long periods, which is equivalent to saying that they state after
system
are
is
the
somehow
controlled or self-controlling.
We
are in the habit of ex-
plaining persistence of organizations in terms of rides, traditions, customs,
and the purposes
of persons
who
regulate them. These mechanisms and
do not appear
actions are not, however, closely related to feedback; they to
correspond to von Bertalanffy's statement of the case:
system variables
is
altered, the system manifests
direction." Clearly, the tries to
116
maintain
it,
head of
because
".
change
.
.
if
one of the
in the opposite
a business firm, a sailing club, or
it is
an army
not very attractive to be head of some-
thing that has ceased to exist; but
it
may be doubted whether
his efforts
William Letwin
to
keep
going always increase when
it
leaders, at least, thrive better
on
idea of negative feedback
the best
come
to persist
is
it
seems to be in trouble— some on setbacks. So whether the
success than
way
how
to explain
organizations
at present, rather questionable.
is,
must not be overemphasized, howexpense of underrating the capacity of organizations to adapt.
Self-regulation toward a steady state ever, at the
In the face of small and erratic changes, open systems restore the
norm;
to alter their
When
norms.
a law, they are
many
effort to restore the condition prescribed
citizens habitually
may
be replaced by another. Adaptation
may
may
efforts to
a few citizens of a state sporadically break
punished in the
by the law; when
make
and prolonged changes, they tend
in the face of large
break a law,
it is
very likely to
take various forms: the system
of its
environment, either by moving out present one into another or by artificially altering its present one;
or
may
alter itself; or
it
changing
alter its
the relations between
alter
its
it
and
itself
"interface" with the environment.
its
A man
environment, by suddenly beset by
from traffic may go mad, take to earplugs or doublepromote an anti traffic law, move away to the country, or develop
excessive noise glazing,
a psychic insensitivity to noise— all are forms of adaptation. Similarly,
when
a business firm ceases to earn profits,
change
to
modifying
itself its
or
its
it
may
take adaptive steps
environment, as by redesigning
Many
advertising.
its
product or
other instances could be propounded of
"adaptive behavior."
But how much good has
How much
things?
it
done
to
put these new labels on familial
light has systems analysis— extremely useful as
it
has
been in the development of communications theory and in improving certain branches of engineering— cast on the subject matter of the social sciences? Certainly it has stirred up a good deal of inquiry and writing, of which two prominent instances are David Eas ton's A Systems Anal
and Karl Deutsch's The Nerves of Government Such works, Deutsch believes, have recast the problem ol terms of the analysis of political systems and "the essential con
of Political Life (1965)
(1963,
1966).
politics in
communication—epitomized in the feedback ." Hut Norbert Wiener's term 'cybernetics' not always very productive, as the following passage from
nection between control and process,
and highlighted
the recasting
is
in
Deutsch suggests: aspect of goal-changing feedback might involve fundamental changes in goals. An organization, having pursued one kind of
A
last
goal, might
come
to
pursue
u
very different kind of goal In this
manner, the Swedish political system changed from the pursuit of military power in the seventeenth century to the pursuit of neutrality
To
and
social welfare in the twentieth.
describe this change in Swedish poliq as an aspect
feedback" does not give
a
bettei explanation
ol
ol
"goal-cl
what happened; inched.
Social Science
it
and
Practical
Problems
does not give any explanation. But such a criticism should be very
A
carefully qualified. call it a case of
why it explains his The proper defense of
savage will ask
"rapid oxidization."
hearth-fire to
that elaborate
name is thai it subsumes one particular concrete phenomenon under a body of theory which can explain many other phenomena, apparently dissimilar, and which can correctly predict that if this fire is deprived of oxygen, it will stop burning. In like manner, Deutsch might answer that his purpose in attaching a new label to the change in Swedish policy is to show how that concrete instance fits within the admittedly powerful theory of feedbacks. But if it is asked whether that theory enables anybody to make successful predictions about how Swedish policy will alter in any future circumstances, the answer seems clearly to be negative. It would be futile to speculate about whether systems analysis will bring about theoretical improvements in the social sciences, but it seems clear that it has not done so yet. It is clear, on the other hand, that systems analysis does offer a useful guide to the making of practical decisions. The guide, an approximation to the ultimate of prudence, is this: "If you change any aspect of a system, some other aspects will change as well." As this rule is a direct inference from the definition of a "system," it might seem at first glance to add little. Nevertheless, it is a useful and even powerful injunction, too often overlooked. Economic aid to underdeveloped countries encountered unexpected
difficulties,
because those
who
introduced tractors or new crops
would inevitably bring about other changes in the economic and social system, not all of them desirable. Conversely, the rule suggests that the best way to change one aspect of a system may be to operate on another aspect of it. High blood pressure used to be
forgot that any such change
relieved by applying leeches; of salt.
An
it
is
now
relieved by reducing the intake
analogous instance of the indirect approach
in support of "integrated research into organized
is
cited by Ackoff
man-machine systems."
Complaints were made in a large office building that elevator service was too slow; engineers suggested adding more elevators, installing speedier
manager and the third as inadequate; a psychologist suggested that although service was a bit slow, what really annoyed users was waiting inactive in a crowded lobby; and the problem was thereupon solved by putting mirrors on the walls of the lobby, which presumably created an illusion of space and provided elevator riders with ones, or assigning the existing ones to serve specific floors; the
rejected two solutions as too expensive
a spectacle.
Prudence, then, in the systems-analysis version, reminds practical that problems need not be attacked head-on is
likely to generate a systemically related
embodied
in the rule that
changes," prudent 118
a
more
men
men
and that solving any problem problem. For such reminders,
"every change in a system produces other
should be grateful. Such reminders help build up
sophisticated view of the relations between
means and ends and
of
William Letwin
But they do not provide automatic do not tell one how to invent Trojan horses or howthe unintended consequences of action.
the tasks of practical deliberation.
decision rules; they to anticipate all
Operations research
Operations research
nothing
is
ing into the operations, which
much more definite than a way of lookmeans the practical working, of business,
government, defense, or any other organization, whatever objectives.
The
preferred
method
specialized
its
of operations research
is
to devise a
mathematical model of the activity being studied— a model that is abstract, formal, and symbolic— from which can be elicited an optimal it is rapidly becoming a recognizable profession, most practitioners have been trained either as engineers (40 percent),
decision rule. Although
mathematicians, tions research
statisticians, or scientists (45 percent).
easier
is
to represent
Altogether opera-
by illustration than by any exact
definition.
There research 1.
to
is,
is
first
of
all,
a set of characteristic
problems which operations
practiced at analyzing. These are:
Queuing problems. Any part of an organization has tasks, and the tasks turn up at certain rates.
the service
is
wasted; whereas delay.
if
Common
under
is
the capacity of
of tasks, but part of the service capacity will be
the
queue
is
long, a
good deal
of time
sense suggests that the obvious solution
exactly the rate of input with the capacity, but there
If
very large, relative to the input of tasks, then there need be
no delay or queuing
is,
a certain capacity
perform
it
this rule, in a
tendency for the queue to
break
down
wasted by
is
to
equate
can be shown that
any random fluctuation in the rate of input,
for the service to
is
if
would result. grow infinitely long— that it
altogether. Operations research aims
therefore to find decision rules that optimize the relationship between
capacity
and flow
of tasks.
Inventory problems. All organizations that produce anything that can be stored keep stocks of their outputs. They do so because they cannot
2.
control the rate at which the users of the outputs— who are aliens to the organization, parts of to
would it
its
environment, and therefore beyond
lose the profit
it
its
powc-i
an organization held no inventory, it could have earned by selling. If, on the contrary,
control— turn up to buy them. held a large inventory,
it
If
would incur proportionately
large costs of
an optimal inventor) storage and maintenance. Evidently, then, there for any organization, which depends on its particular circumstances; and to define the rational rules for determining the optimal inventor) Ii one is
is worth noticing the fundamental symmetry of queuing and inventory problems: in the tonne], the rate at which inputs arrive is uncertain; in the latter, the rate at which outputs depart is uncertain; in both cases, what is within the power ol the In in
of the tasks of operations research. It
is
to
determine
its
optimal capacity to accepl inputs
01
to
provide outputs,
119
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems
Sequencing problems. All operations or projects can be analyzed into steps, each of which necessarily precedes or follows other steps and takes place simultaneously with still others. This whole 3.
a
sequence of separate
configuration can be represented as a chain or network of tasks. For instance, the operation of a typical project at a filling station with
one
attendant can be represented in this scheme:
(90)
(60)
(40)
+•0 fill
»
check water,
gas
oil
o
> fill
(45)
(75)
o
»
check
water,
o
tires
1
inflate tires
oil
In this diagram the
circles,
known
as "nodes," represent the static state
and before each separate task, the arrows stand for the performance of each task, and the numbers in parentheses record the time, here given in seconds, for each task. If the same operation were carried out by two attendants working together, the diagram might show
of the project after
this:
fill
(40)
(60)
(90)
check water,
gas
oil
fill
water, oil
(45)
(75) »
check
In the
first case,
the operation
o
»
o
inflate tires
tires
the total time elapsed between beginning
would be 310 seconds;
in the second, the total
and end of time would
be 190 seconds, the length of time needed to complete the longer of the
two
sets of tasks (90
figurative
and
+
+
60
40),
or— to put
it
in the terms, at the
network. That longest path
is
same time
move along the longest path in known as the "critical path," being
analytic, of the art— to
the the
one which determines the total time elapsed during the operation. While one attendant is still following the critical path, the other has already finished the tasks on his path, which took only 120 seconds, leaving him with slack time or "float" of 70 seconds. A shrewd manager, noticing this waste of time, might revise the work plan so as to shift some tasks from the critical path to the other, and shifting is almost always possible because tasks are indefinitely divisible. In this case the revised plan might be:
(90) fill
gas
(30)
check
(20) fill
water
water (75)
check 120
tires
(45)
(30)
inflate tires
check oil
(20) fill
oil
William Letwin
a result, the critical path will
have been shortened to 170 seconds to 30 seconds-so that although the (75 + 45 + 30 + 20) total amount of labor used in the project remains the same, the time elapsed and also the time wasted have been radically reduced. The advantage of the third work plan over the second is unambiguous;
As
and the
float
time has been saved and at no extra
cost.
The advantage
of the third
which requires two men, as compared with the first, which requires only one, is open to question. Does the increased speed with which a car plan,
can be processed yield benefits
employanswer can be given only in the light of a cost-benefit study, which finds the optimal relationship between the number of inputs of labor and the speed of output. But even in the shorter run, taking the number of workers as fixed for the time being, a ing a second attendant?
A
sufficient to justify the extra cost of
fully rational
sub-optimal or second-best solution can be arrived at by rearranging and reallocating the indefinitely divisible steps in any "project" so as to mini-
mize the "float" and when possible to reduce
it
to zero.
These observations may seem too obvious to merit much notice, and the correct solution of practical sequencing problems too easy to deserve the attention of powerful experts. But as the routing problem discussed at the outset
showed, the number of sequences that can be made up of
few
ten independent tasks
as,
say,
is
as
nearly 4,000,000; and projects of
many independent tasks as well as many that dependent on one another. Thus, the Apollo moon-landing project is said to have involved 100,000 operations, carried out by 20,000 firms and 150,000 scientists and engineers. If the sequence of steps in that project had not been carefully planned, the project would have encountered enormous delays and unbearable costs. It was in fact planned by a method of sequence analysis identical in form to the one in the fillingstation illustration but, necessarily, adapted to solution by computer. This method, known as PERT (Program Evaluation and Review Technique), was developed by a team of mathematicians and engineers involved in the planning in 1957 of the Polaris missile system, and it is now used widely throughout industry, as well as government. A fundamental similar form of analysis is known as CPM (Critical Path Method). 4. Allocation problems. It is typical of organizations that the) can and do make a variety of products at the same time and out of much the same great complexity involve are intricately
A farmer grows a variety of crops; a suit manufacturer combin workers and machines and cloth to produce prodm ts ot different Itykl
inputs. his
and quality;
a hospital uses
how much
its
inputs to tend or
I
lire
disorder* ot \ai ions
produd] an exceedingly intricate- problem it tlu- aim in to maximize the value of the output tor an) given set ot inputs or, ion \ versely, to minimize the cost of producing an) given lei ot outputs sense of the intricacy of such problems (an be gathered from an illustrasorts.
Deciding
each sort of output
is
of each sort of input to allocate- to
Social Science
tion
two
and
Practical
that concerns a
Problems
bakery company which owns two factories and
stores.
The two
inputs, bread
baked
at factory
A
and
at factory B,
converted into two different outputs, bread delivered at store
and the problem
can be
Y and
at
minimize the total cost of shipping. Costs of shipping 1,000 loaves of bread from each factory to each store are given in the table below, as are the total supply and demand of bread in each. store Z;
is
to
Shipping Costs (per 1,000 loaves) to
Y
Z
$5
$6
$3
$8
Capacities
supply
from A: from B:
8,000 loaves 4,000 loaves
° f Y:
5,000 loaves 7,000 loaves
demand
of Z:
Common
sense suggests that the best
that the largest possible quantity
is
way
to allocate the
shipments
is
so
which decision has been
sent along the cheapest route,
from factory B to store Y. It turns out that once this made, the rest of the problem is solved automatically. For sending all the 4,000 loaves produced at B to Y means that in order to satisfy Y's remaining demand of 1,000 loaves, those must be sent from factory A, which leaves A's 7,000 remaining loaves to be sent to Z. is
Allocation
(in
loaves)
to
Y
Z
totals
1,000
7,000
8,000
4,000
122
totals
5,000
4,000
7,000
William Letwin
The
total cost
each other.
now
can
The
thousand loaves times of S59 (42
+
+
5
be calculated by multiplying the two tables times
12)
7,
is
or $42;
A
A
from
cost of shipping
Y
to
is
to Z, for instance,
and B
S5;
to
Y
is
SI 2.
S6 per
is
The
total
the lowest possible; any other allocation, such as
the one shown below, would produce a example below, $71.
Allocation
(in
total cost higher
than S59; in the
loaves)
to
Z
totals
4,000
4,000
8,000
1,000
3,000
4,000
5,000
7,000
Y
totals
be seen at once that a very large number of allocations (in this case 4,000) could be compared, all of which would be consistent with the constraints of the problem: that the total supply (or inputs) equal the It will
total
demand
(or outputs)
and that the quotas
and
of both factories
of
both stores be exactly met. This class is known as "feasible" allocations, to distinguish them from all the allocations that would not be consistent with the constraints— such as, for instance, any allocation which provided for shipping 5,000 units from B to Y, impossible because B's output is is onh one And luekih
postulated as 4,000. But of the 4,000 feasible solutions there
which in
is
instance,
this
common But as
optimal in that
results in the
minimal
commonsense
rule does not hold good. Shipping
as possible along the cheapest route
the cheapest route to full capacity of the
be recognized by unaided
the optimal decision can
because, as soon as the problem becomes
may
total cost.
sense.
in general the
much
it
most expensive route
is
not
slightly
a
sale general
more complex,
may compel one
to use
as well. In such cases the
rule
to use
good deal
a
optima] decision
be one that uses neither the cheapest nor the dearest but
I
oni
(
(Urates
on the middle range. For instance, in the example below, the optimal allocation sends none of the bread along the heapesf route (from A toX) and as much as possible along the dearest route, yet arrives al a total cost of $82, some 12 percent less than the cosl ol the allocation ni.nlc- in (
accordance with
common
sense rather than
strict
mathematics.
123
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems
Shipping Costs (per
1
,000 units)
to
B
%
X
Y
Z
$3
$7
$4
$4
$9
$6
$6
$10
$9
Constraints
from A: from B: from C:
1,000 units)
(in
toX: toY: toZ:
3 6 5
Optimal allocation
(in
6 3 5
1,000 units)
to
Y
X
Z
totals
3
I
2
4
B
3
2
totals
Allocation problems faced in industry can be vastly more complex this. A large gasoline company buys crude oil in many different
than
it
by
refineries, cracks
it
markets, ships
and
ships
it
many different routes to a large number of different into many different combinations of end products,
from each
of
its
refineries, in variable quantities,
to
each
of its retail outlets. For such a system there will be many millions of feasible allocations, among which the optimal one is as cunningly concealed as the longest straw in a haystack, and as valuable as it is difficult to find. It is in dealing with the allocation problem at this level of com-
plexity that operations research, aided by
characteristic tool, the
com-
and its characteristic analytic methods, is at its most Besides dealing with certain characteristic problems— of which queuing,
puter, 124
its
helpful.
William Letwin
and allocation are leading sorts— operations
inventory, sequencing,
search uses a set of methods which, though not peculiar to to
it
a particular flavor.
rigor
and
These range from mathematical methods methods that come
theoretical comprehensiveness to
tinkering and hunch.
itself,
The
re-
impart of great
close
to
character of these extremes can be indicated
by comparing two ways of measuring the area within a given equilateral triangle, the first being to calculate it, using the exact formula pro-
pounded by Euclidean geometry (Area
\ Ta = -^—
2
—
the side), the second being to approximate
,
where
a
is
the length of
by counting up the number At the most rigorous and comprehensive end of the spectrum of methods used in operations research lie general systems analysis, or cybernetics— which analyzes any operation in terms of a comprehensive theory of inputs, transformation, outputs, and feedback— and information theory analysis, which examines of one-inch squares that will just
fit
it
inside
it.
the working of an organization by regarding a sort of telephone system, discovering
it as an information network, which channels are overcrowded
and which are underused and proposing measures
to correct these im-
perfections.
An
is occupied by methods comprehensive in their ambit: instead
intermediate position in the spectrum
which, though rigorous, are
less
an operation as part of a system, they treat it as a relatively detached unit. Most important among this group is linear programming, a method for identifying the feasible solutions and the optimal one in allocation problems such as that illustrated above and in many similar problems. A more complex method, known as dynamic programming, is used for solving problems where the best decision to be made at each step in a process depends upon the decision made as to the previous step. And, finally, at the extreme of experimental, ad hoc methods, occur simulation and gaming. These are methods that examine the outcomes of of analyzing
alternative policies by calculating or estimating the effect of each one,
optimal policy. The) are, in methods of repeated trial and effort. For instance, the simulation approach would consist of calculating the cost of each of the 4,000 different solutions so as to find the best one. This is obviousl) a thoughtless procedure, feasible only because electronic computers can do the repetitive arithmetic routine quickly and cheaply; in fact, an) operations research specialist who respects his craft uses such an inelegant method only if all other methods fail. But the complexities encountered in the real, practical world are often so great that the onl) practicable method is one of solving without solving— that is. finding the best solution withthus, at last, long-windedly discovering the
fact,
why it is the best. In the hardest practical cases, then, operations research docs not come anywhere near arriving at automata or even general decision inks, it
out understanding
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems
back instead on the old procedure of empirical medicine, which is wrong cures until one finds a cure that does not kill the patient. Its procedure has this one advantage, that its trials are arti-
falls
to try out all the
ficial,
so that the deaths are hypothetical rather than real;
the disadvantage that hypothetical ence.**
trials,
and with
it
leading to "synthetic experi-
always necessarily omit, conceal, or mistake some elements of the
which may in fact be critical. The airplane that flies beautifully in a wind tunnel crashes in reality, because there were no sea gulls in the wind tunnel, but there are at the real airport.
real situation
Game
theory a recurrent accident of the
Conflict
is
ordered
civil
societv,
to
human
situation.
Within
a well-
be sure, individuals rarely engage in violent
though they regularly take part in polite versions, such as disa family and litigation between parties to a contract, or in ritualized versions— games of skill and parliamentary debates. In a peaceful society, also, private organizations engage only in mitigated forms of conflict— an election "fight" between parties or a proxy fight for control of a corporation. On the other hand, relations between governments often verge on war, and the proper business of military organizations is nothing else. The possibility of conflict, in all forms ranging from chivalrous to savage, is too universal to be overlooked by any broad forms of
it,
agreements within
theory of practical decision. Nevertheless, until our time there existed no general theory of strategy, no general theory of how best to behave in a situation of conflict. Machiavelli propounded certain rules of warfare, discussed above, but those were at best bits of general advice drawn from limited experience and dubious guides to conduct. Retired soldiers, taking up the pen after
laying others ipes
down arms, have over how to win wars, but
and never enunciated
existence for the
bv John von games. This
first
tell
those manuals often collected outdated rec-
a perfectly general
time during World
Neumann on
name
the centuries written masses of books to
a
new body
War of
theory. II in
That came
into
the massive treatise
mathematics— the theory
of
continues to cover the broad theory of conflict, which
has been developed rapidly thanks to the double stimuli of cold war and
nuclear weapons.
Game
theory, as
it
now
stands,
is
a
formal inquiry into the rules of
rational decision in situations where the
of each contestant's
opponent reacts. A "game," for the purposes of game theory, is a contest between at least two adversaries, who make alternating choices, resulting ultimately in an outcome that carries "payoffs," the amounts which the adversaries win or lose. A game may be open, like chess, where each player knows the moves his opponent is making, or it may be covert, like war, where the enemies do their best to conceal action depends
126
outcome
upon how
his
William Letwin
moves from each other. The aim of game theory which the contestant can optimize his outcome.
is
to discover rules
by
Consider, for instance, a very simple open
game between two persons. one move by each player, and each player has three courses of action, or "strategies," from which to choose.
The whole game
As the game
is
move
consists of only
open, each player knows
how
the other has
moved
as
soon
made, though he cannot predict with certainty how his opponent will move. Furthermore, the payoffs for each of the possible outcomes are determined in advance, perfectly certain, and known to both players; they are displayed in the "payoff matrix" below. The horizontal rows of the matrix are labeled A, B, and C, each letter standing for one of the three strategies open to the first player; while the vertical columns, X, Y, and Z, designate the three strategies open to the second as the
is
number in a cell is negative, it means that bound to pay that much money to the second player; amount that the second player must pay to the first. So,
player. If the
the
is
if
player
first
positive, the
for instance,
if
player chooses strategy A, and the second player responds with strategy X, then the outcome of the game is that the second player wins S4 from the first; whereas if the first player chooses strategy A, but the the
first
second chooses Y, then the
first
player wins S10 from the second.
second player
Y
-4
-12
10
-1
-2
-3
What, under these circumstances,
is
11
the rational decision for the
player? Inspecting the outcomes, he sees that strategy the greatest payoff, since
would win
if
C might
the second player responded with
give
first
him
strafc
But the objection to choosing (. is that it the second player responded with Y, the first would lost |3. In the- same way, strategy A would be rewarding if the second playa responded with Y, but punitive if he responded with /. And strategy B does not. considered the
in
first
itself,
look very attractive, since the most
break even, and lose SI.
$11.
How
the
if
it
offers the
firsl
playa
i^
to
the second playa responds with X. then the lust will
game
will turn out lor the lust playei
.
therefore,
i
lf.ii 1\
depends on how the second playei responds moves, and the first player consequently must choose his own strategy n the- basis ol his estimate as to how the second playa will read to each possible- str to ,m\ ol his
127
Social Science
and
Problems
Practical
In forming his estimate, the that the
opponent
is
first
player might assume, or
may know,
thoughtful and careful and that he will unfailingly
him the
select the response that gives
assume, in short, that the opponent
is
greatest possible payoff; he
may
On that assumpchose A instead, his
entirely rational.
tion, the best policy for the first player
is
B. If he
opponent would counter with Z, whereupon the first player would lose $12; or if he chose C, his opponent would counter with Y for a loss of $3;
B the first player insures that his loss is cut down The compound rational outcome of the game, B followed by X, defines what is known as a "saddlepoint" or "minimax" solution, so called whereas by choosing to $1.
because
it is
either player,
neither the best possible nor the worst possible solution for
but— in
that carefully qualified sense— the best possible solu-
tion for both, given the circumstances of the
game and
perfectly rational
responses by both players to those circumstances. It
happens in
findings of
game theory
is
that
saddlepoint— that the outcome first
game— and one
this particular
it is
of the lesser theoretical
happens in every game that contains a not affected by which player makes the
move. Suppose that the second player were entitled
to
move
first,
then to avoid the worst possible outcomes he must decline to follow
could result in ZC, costing him $11— or strategy Y— would cost him $10— thus settling on X, which guarantees that he will win something whatever the first player does. After the second player has chosen X, the first player would rationally choose B, so as to minimize his loss. So the outcome is the same whichever player moves first, as indeed it would be if each player in the game had to move in total ignorance of the other's choice, provided each assumed that the other would act rationally. But if one of the players does not act rationally, then the best strategy for the other depends upon his knowing how his opponent has decided. Suppose that the first player were stupid, or careless, or greedy, and chose strategy C, because of the lure of possibly winning $11. The optimal strategy for the second player would then be Y, which in fact imposes a loss of $3 on the first player. Or suppose that the first player had a moral objection or aesthetic aversion to strategy B, then the second player would strategy
Z— which
because
YA
rationally avoid X. In short,
ality—that
is,
if
if
either player departs
from complete ration-
he attaches significance to any strategy other than the
significance expressed in the payoffs— the other player stands to benefit; will pay the opponent to wait until the other has made his move or, he cannot wait, to buy information about the opponent's plans. So far, the analysis has dealt with the species of game called "zero-sum" because the payoff for one player on each outcome is the negative of the payoff for the other player; if the first player wins $1, the second must lose exactly $1, and the sum of the win and loss in each payoff is zero. But most conflict situations in the real world are not zero-sum, because someit
if
128
times both parties
lose,
and sometimes both gain or break even. The
William Letwin
model
games that are not zero-sum arises from dilemma." Two members of a gang are captured just after they have robbed somebody, before they have agreed on an alibi or a course of action, and they are jailed in separate cells. The prosecutor visits each one separately, urges him to classic
for illustrating
the ancient puzzle
known
confess, promises that
if
as "the prisoner's
he confesses he will be given a lighter sentence normal sentence of ten years, and
of five years in jail rather than the
mentions that the other prisoner has already confessed. Each prisoner though he knows that the prosecutor's promises are entirely authentic. Each prisoner knows, therefore, that if neither confesses, both will go free; if both confess, both will get the light sentence; and if only one confesses, he will get the light sentence, while the other gets the heavy sentence. All this can be represented in a payoff matrix, where the first number in each square is the greets the last bit of information with great skepticism,
sentence of the
first
prisoner,
and the second number the sentence
of the
second prisoner.
second prisoner
o
What first
is
confesses
doesn't
confesses
5.5
5,10
doesn't
10.5
0,0
the rational rule for deciding? Clearly the best outcome for the
prisoner
would
also refused; yet
if
result
the
if
first
he refused to confess, provided the second second confesses, then the
refuses, but the
on the other hand, the firs! oneconfesses, he can guarantee himself a sentence of no more than five years though equally no less. That is the dilemma, and the onh wa\ out is b\ first
gets the worst possible
outcome.
If,
guessing what the other prisoner will do.
Ii
each prisoner tiusts the Other,
they will jointly arrive at the best solution;
if
they will jointly arrive at an inferior solution:
both mistrust cadi other, if
one mistrusts the other
while being trusted, the trusting one will incur the worst possible out come, while the untrusting one will incur the lessei sentence-. It cm be seen that in these circumstances the rational decision
ioi
each one-
is
to
on the supposition that the Otha tiusts him. Indeed, experiments made by Anatol Rapoport shon tint most people who took part did trust each other. Hut il one- has good reason trust the other, or at least to act
to believe,
on past experience,
that
the
untrustworthy, then the rational decision
otha is
to
is
be-
e-ithei
untuisti;
untrusting
one
oi
untrust-
such that the
too. If the game were changed into an prisoners could consult and agree, both would have reason to cooperate;
worthy
e>|)en
129
Social Science
and
Practical
Problems
the rational rule for each player would be to trust the other— if the other were rational enough to be trustworthy. Since, as everybody knows, however, some people are perverse, and everyone has a slight streak of perversity in him, it can hardly be rational bluntly to assume the contrary. In the light of this model, international relations in a cold war can be understood as arising not necessarily from natural belligerence but from the estimate by each nation that the other cannot be trusted.
Most political and international conflicts contain not only potential rewards for cooperation but also room for negotiation, which is the process of fostering cooperation by the use of threats and promises. Consider, for instance, a game with the following payoff matrix, whose sums Green Country has the
are not zero-sum. If
first
move,
its
better strategy
Green country
Y
Z
1.2
2,1
0,0
0,0
o o B
£ GO
is
Y,
which gives
exposes
itself to
it
the best payoff,
2.
But
in choosing Y,
Green Country
the possibility that Blue Country will choose B, where-
The choice of B might be mere by choosing B instead of A, Blue denies itself the payoff of 1, but this might be rational if Blue regards an equal payoff as better than an outcome in which Green gains more than Blue— an attitude reasonable enough if the game involves the balance of power. upon neither country perversity
130
on Blue's
gains anything.
part, for,
Suppose now that before Green makes its first move Blue threatens that if Green does choose Y, Blue will most certainly choose B. If Green trusts the threat, finds it "credible," then Green may decide to choose strategy Z, which would give it a small payoff if Blue chose A. If, on the other hand, Green regards the threat as empty, it will choose Y; or if it believes that Blue will choose B in any event, then Green may as well choose Y. In short, Blue's threat is credible only insofar as it is coupled with a credible promise: "If you choose Y, we will choose B; but if you come to your senses and choose Z, we promise to choose A." These examples, which barely scratch the surface of game theory, suggest the power of its analysis and its weakness. Given a payoff matrix and an accurate estimate of the opponent's behavior, a contestant using game theory can discover his optimal, rational strategy. But in order to arrive at a correct practical decision he must have a correct payoff matrix and an accurate estimate of the opponent's responses. Now, in international disputes the payoffs are uncertain; especially it is uncertain what
William Letwin
value the opponent attaches to each of the possible outcomes.
ernment to
of Israel
may
be more or
less clear
on how much value
The it
gov-
attaches
keeping the Sinai, but it can only guess at how much value Egypt atit. Countries in dispute deliberately conceal or mis-
taches to recovering
represent their valuations of outcomes in order to enhance their power to threaten and promise. And equally, no country can make accurate esti-
mates of the opponent's future responses, since the opponent deliberately obfuscates his intentions. To sum up, then, though game theory does
more exact analysis of the general structure of conflict, it does not eliminate the need to guess about the unknowable facts of practical situations. The neatness of the rational decision rule is contaminated by the coarseness of the concrete circumstances to which it must be applied lead to a
in practice.
Experts vs. executives
How An
to identify objectives
executive's
first
job
is
to define the objectives of his organization:
it
management science, policy-making, or public administration that does not make this point at the outset. It is a good point, worth making and, like other good points, well worth
is
a rare
book on operations
research,
qualifying.
Of course action.
it is
Any
true that the
end
is
the logical beginning of deliberate
and considered, begins when some goal, aim, objective, purpose, or end which achieve. Once he has formulated the end, he can choose
deliberate action, purposeful
the actor recognizes
he desires
to
rationally the optimal path toward
it.
Indeed, the analogy of a journey
constantly recurs in the formal analysis of decision processes, because a
planned journey presupposes both a destination and a path to it. The truth of this proposition is underscored by the frequently misunderstood proposition that the end justifies the means. Of course it does. The purpose of getting to Timbuktu is the only consideration that could justify the trouble of going there, unless it were merely an accidental stopover on the way to some other place, which ultimate destination would then justify the trip. Good ends justify the use ot means—make them good means as distinct from efficient means— because no means, when considered in isolation from all ends, is either good or bad in Itself. Evil ends of course justify no means. When an evil man says that the end justifies the means, he should be understood to be saying that the end he pursues is so desirable in his eyes that it overrides everything else, authorizing him to do things that any decent man regards as intolerable When a good man denies that the end justifies the means, be should be understood as saying that no single end pursued b) an\ man can icalh be so valuable as to authorize him to do things contrar) to all the Otha
Social Science
and
Problems
Practical
ends that he ought
to
men do
be pursuing and that good
pursue. Assum-
however, thai a man in pursuing an\ given end keeps in mind all the other ends that he should, he can and ought to believe that what justifies ing,
means
the
justified
the
end
is
it
it
the end toward which
spares
someone
lie
max be
has directed them. Lying
great pain, but
is
not justified
if
it
serves
of torturing him.
men and
Yet although
organizations cannot act rationally without hav-
ing selected their ends, instructing of his organization, sets
him
a
man
to identify his ends, or those
at a task that, while logically possible,
practically impossible. In the midst of action
men
is
are preoccupied with
An members to have as its ends those ends that it is actively pursuing at that moment. Nowhere is this more cleai 1\ exhibited than in military operations. The commander in chief of an armv the local and short-run objectives that justify their present action.
organization seems to
is
its
always tugging his subordinates toward the end of the whole rather than
end
the
that he has temporarilv assigned to the part. Wellington sent
the household cavalry into action at Waterloo to bolster a particular in-
fantry unit, but the cavalry became so engrossed in their charge that they continued forward despite orders to retire; their charge was brilliantly successful, the cavalry were gloriously destroyed, and the whole army was put in peril. The commander in chief, similarly, is liable to regard
the short-run end of his forces as partaking of the ultimate; he
is prone win the war, whereas, in truth, it is to establish that condition for the sake of which alone a war is worth fighting. Lincoln was an admirable president, because he constantly repeated that the point of the Civil War was "restoration of a righteous peace," and because he often insisted that this end guide the conduct of the war. Nevertheless, even he was seeing matters from the limited viewpoint of particular action, because to reestablish the Union and eradicate slavery
to believe that the objective
is
to
could be regarded as desirable objectives only in view of
still
higher
and longer run objectives. To identify the ultimate ends of an organization would require the executive to embark on an infinite regress. Recognizing this difficulty, some experts in decision theory have argued for a more sophisticated approach. Instead of asking the executive to de-
then clarify
he should be asked to identify problems. Certainly an anybody else, can tell when something is wrong. Let him his policy by starting from felt needs rather than thought-out
goals. Since
it is
fine objectives,
executive, like
or
all
impossible in practice to identify the ultimate objectives
the current objectives of an organization, he should settle for a
policy of piecemeal improvement, hoping that the continuous process of correcting defects as they arise will steer the organization closer to
ultimate objectives. This sensible strategy has place, a
132
it
does not explain
how an
its
executive can
own tell
flaws.
In the
that a condition
"problem." Suppose that a company's inventory fluctuates; that
fact,
but
is it
a
problem?
Is it
a
good thing or bad or absolutely
its
first
is
is
a
indiffer-
William Letwin
The
ent?
question cannot be answered seriously without referring to
though the objective may in practice be implicit or rechow could anyone decide what cure to adopt without referring to some objective? Most problems have many possible solutions, and only a pathological optimist would suppose that any of those solutions is good enough. Which is thought best must depend rationally on the objectives of the organization. Finally, to be propelled through life from problem to the ever ready next problem is ignobly passive, leaving one subject to the initiative of chance or malice—
some
objective,
ognized only intuitively. Secondly,
a slave to
crisis.
Another
attractive view dismisses objectives in favor of style. It points
are guided in many activities by the intention to do things manner, and that such activities are corrupted by the intrusion of substantive objectives. Amateurs do not play tennis in order to win but in order to play, and the game is spoiled by an opponent who cares for nothing but victory at any price. Similarly, in this view, the proper attitude in managing an organization is to aim at maintaining and perfecting its quality as an organization— the warmth of human relations within it, the excellence of the services it renders to customers, and the care it exercises about its environment. Its earnings and profits, in this view, are means to those goals rather than ends, though this view prefers not to express its outlook in those terms. In its objection to commercial crudity, in lauding the voyage rather than the destination, this attitude is congenial to many. Yet it embodies an error of reasoning. It means to condemn certain kinds of objectives; in order to do so it deprecates "the
out that
men
in a certain
objective" as a logical category. that
somebody who
of acting that way. Style itself It
seems, after
ically correct
all,
yet
it is
is
identify the objectives. is
perfectly appropriate to saj
manner
follows the objecth e
an objective. must be admitted
that the textbooks
in holding that
tifying objectives
And
prefers to act in a certain
the
first
What
strictly
to
be theoret-
step in rational decision
to
is
they do not add is interminable and imposes severe strains on
that the project of iden-
the honesty as well as the intellect of the seeker.
Above
all,
the projtt
t
cannot be carried out by any scientific or objective method. Two men equally knowledgeable about an organization may well disagree about its objectives, and no third man could, on account of an) science it his disposal, tell which of the two was more accurate. In short, the Opening
presumably objective process of decision-making with modern methods is itself a step that requires analysis of a Uurgel) intuitive sort At the very threshold of rational certainty in practical matters Stands the step in the
uninvited guest of discretionary judgment.
How
to use experts
Sooner or decisions,
an executive, who is an) person charged with making may turn to an expert for advice. Hie first rule i^ that the N later,
\ now that the American Negroes are rejecting the dominant society in ever larger numbers—not just the young and the dispossessed, but the Negro elite—professors; celebrities of the theater, music, and sports; even siuccsstul businessmen, doctors, and lawyers. Underneath all this turmoil of the metropoles f the "have societies," the whole world south of the Tropic of Cancel lias entered a state t society,
Large
classes
chronic, apparently incurable,
crisis,
accelerating in violence ami chanu
terized by unrestrainable overpopulation; exhaustion ol soil;
breakdown
139
Literature
monocultures like sugar, coffee, or rubber; proliferation of immense slum cities, shantytovvns full of starving people, and streets crowded at night by sleeping families without domicile. Underlying both the breakup of the dominant civilization in the metropoles and the breakdown of the former colonial societies of imperialism lies the fantastically accelerating breakdown of the environment itself. One of the American Great Lakes has become an open sewer; the rest are
of
swim in near the bigger cities. Deforestation, and soil exhaustion have taken more land out of cultivation since the Second World War than in hundreds of years before. The Sahara
seriously polluted, unfit to
erosion,
among
the finest
grazing land on earth, with terrifying rapidity. All the major
cities are
Desert
spreading into former
is
smogbound with dense clouds tus
is
fertile
savannahs, once
of carcinogens.
The
fabled honey of Hymet-
no more; the bees have left the slopes of Hymettus above Athens, a San Francisco, cleansed, one would expect, by the daily winds
city, like
from the
sea.
do not fill their swimming pools with seawater until they Channel or a day off the American coasts. The sea has been polluted, and the coastal waters of the United States are
Luxury
liners
are out of the English itself
highly contaminated with easily measurable, increasing quantities of insecticides
and detergents, the bulk
take a generation to wash out
The
if
of
which are still in the soil and would were to be stopped tomorrow.
their use
exploitation of offshore oil deposits
is
destroying the
areas of the continental shelf in California, Alaska,
life
over vast
and the Caspian. The
oxygen content of air is declining, and the carbon dioxide content rising, even over the center of the Indian Ocean or the South Pacific, and pollutants are easily found in the air and on the snow of Antarctica.
The human
race
is
entering a truly eschatological situation.
of scientific congresses, especially of the life sciences
The
and the
reports
sciences of
man, and most especially the combination of them— ecology— read like the Book of Revelation. At the time of the Second World War, the theology of crisis, the more melodramatic forms of existentialism (the philosophy of "le monde concentrationnaire"), and literary movements that called themselves Apocalypse, or Croix du feu, suddenly became popular all over the world. There is the closest connection between the poetry of Dylan Thomas, novels like Ernst Jiinger's Auf den Marmorklippen [On the Marble Cliffs], the plays and philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre, and the objective situation— Hamburg, Dresden, Dachau, Buchenwald, Hiroshima, Nagasaki. Today the terrible eruption of the Second War and its attendant genocides seems almost cosmetic— boils and pustules with which a body was trying to expel its poisons. For most people in the world, apocalypse is all
140
about
us,
part of the daily substance of our
lives.
We
cope with
it,
and most of us go on living, like the people in wartime London. The people of Vietnam have learned to cope but do not go on living. The war in Vietnam dominates the decade like a great cloud of moral
Kenneth Rexroth
the United States and spreading from there smog that reaches out from Los Angeles to corPhoenix and Santa Barbara and washes against the peaks
poison gas lying over
all of
across the world, like the
rode the air in of the Sierras.
The
Young Men in Great Thaw and Hundred Flowers in
previous decade was the era of the Angry
Britain, the Beats in America,
and the
Russia and China. In the plastic arts American abstract expressionists were at the height of their fame, and the American style was imitated by painters
all
over the world.
The
last
twelve-tone musicians, disciples of
Arnold Schoenberg, dominated the conservatories. Electronic music, concrete music (made of "real" sounds), and tape music were in the first period of the consolidation of a new idiom. Literar\ activity in the minor languages— Flemish, Dutch, Polish, Czech, and the languages of the Balkans— was extremely intense. The writers of Group 47, most of them still young, were on the verge of becoming the highly successful West German literary establishment. Only France lagged behind. In the French novel there was little to show except commercial fiction, little to choose between Francoise Sagan, Nathalie Sarraute, and Alain Robbe-Grillet, the commercialization of Colette, and the antinovel. The only creative advance in poetry was to be found, not in books, but in the cafes chantants. However, there was plenty of activity in the theater, the theater of cruelty, the theater of the absurd, the antitheater; but
wrights of the
first
alas,
on inspection, the leading French
postwar decade turned out to be almost
all
Samuel Beckett, Ionesco, Adamov, Arrabal, Ghelderode. The ists,
productions of
le
monde
play-
foreignersexistential-
concentrationnaire , were already exhausted.
of the mass culture. The genworld was of a culture of crisis, but not of catastrophe. The catastrophe was in the past, the memory of war and geiHM idc. This is the meaning of the shift in the recent decade— from crisis to apocalypse. It is nothing peculiar to Western civilization, the so-called free world. Apocalypse, like the ecological crisis, and probably, in the final analysis, because of it, is everywhere. The peculiar Fauna of lake
Existentialism
had become another formula
eral picture all over the
Baikal— freshwater seals, dolphins, and coelenterates— is being exterminated by pollution. The estimable reforestation program of Red China lags far behind deforestation and soil destruction. Communis! Cuba is more tightly locked in the antihuman sugar monoculture than it was
under capitalism. The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution in China was an attempt of warring politicians to manipulate- the wholesale alienation ol youth, differing only in the intensity of its totalitarian techniques from the- ap peal of the Kennedys, Eugene McCarthy, and Will) Brandt to the hippie
and Gdmmler a
paper one.
round
vote.
The
The Chinese
tried to ride the tiger, not. in this case.
Russians have tried
of censorship,
purges, and
to
keep him
persecutions.
c
aged with a w hole new the West so lai. a
In
141
Literature
counterculture, an alternative society, has been permitted to grow up
except social ostracism—which
with
little restraint
The
only persecution has been provoked
l>\
a
is
just
what
wants.
it
generation quarrel over
pharmacy. People— it's no longer correct to say under thirty— under fortyfive prefer social and private intoxicants that do not give them lung cancer or cirrhosis of the liver, or cause their children.
The
What
new
to beat their wives or starve
Once some government economist
passionate intensity. tax these
them
older generation defends cancer and cirrhosis with discovers
how
to
diversions, this conflict at least will die away.
will not die
away
is
the rejection of the entire system of values and
incentives of the mechanical-industrial-financial culture— of what Marxists call
primitive accumulation, what the press calls the Judeo-Christian ethic
or, if
they have read
Tawney
or the Austrian sociologists, they attribute
work ethic of the rise of capitalism. Since the Secmajor historical epoch has come to an end— that of the
to Protestantism as the
ond World War
a
capitalism described by the classical economists.
war economy, the bankruptcy sale starvation in the
The
affluent society, the
of imperialism, overpopulation
and whole-
former colonial world, the generation gap, the
total
and the internal and external proletariats— all these are symptoms of the now worldwide civilization, Marshall McLuhan's to adjust to a technological revolution as profound as the
alienation of the creative minority— Toynbee's schism in the soul
growth of
his
of the failure
global village,
Neolithic one.
Ten thousand
years ago
some men refused
to accept pottery, agricul-
ture, towns, weaving, domestication of animals. In fact, until the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries an extremely
large minority continued to
do
so,
but they were never dominant. Today the hunters and gatherers are in the seats of power. The potters and weavers and farmers and herdsmen are
employees or are outcasts. But today "pottery" means modern power of the hunters is the power of the cobalt bomb. Routinized materialist explanations of Sophocles or Le Morte Darthur may have been irrelevant or absurd, but the present cultural situation cannot be understood without reference to the technological, economic, and social background. The poet Bob Dylan is not only the product of their
physics; the
the alienation of youth; he is the product of electronics. He is also the product of the affluent society of the metropoles. European and American youth can afford to buy his records and go to his concerts, both more expensive than were those of Caruso in his day.
So the same youth can afford the moral integrity of alienation. However the
young outrage
their parents, the establishment,
and the authori-
They can choose the way of life of those who have upon them— American Negroes and Chicanos, for in-
ties, they can't starve.
alienation thrust stance, or
West Indians and Pakistanis
in Britain, Eta
Tokyo, Algerians in France. They tary but Dionysiac subculture without the
and Koreans in an involun-
can enjoy all the benefits of
142
penalties, at least without the
Kenneth Rexroth
penalties of unrelenting impoverishment of
The
only danger they run
is
life.
getting arrested for riotous conduct or for
pharmaceutical exceptionalism, or getting poisoned by not the establishment, stage the show parent, precisely in the Chicago
show
The
trials.
trial
a
bad
contrast
is
They,
trip.
readih ap-
where the involuntarily
alien-
ated defendant with a black skin, and considerably more courtly manners, received quite different treatment than the skilled advocates of "revolution for the hell of it." Doubtless both kinds of rebels will have to face Yagodas, Yezhovs, and Vyshinskis in the not-too-distant future, but at the moment the shoe is on the other foot; whatever their sentences, they are
trying their accusers
and judges. "We are
culture
is
morally defenseless, and that
if
folk-rock records, found-art objects, be-ins,
ment
will collapse? It will not.
fend
gun
itself is
the
niggers now," they say;
all
are conscientious objectors to everything."
Does
mean
this
we can naked
"We
that the old
just pile
up enough
theater, the establish-
Morally defenseless power can always de-
immorally, and power comes out of a gun; in
this case, the
Doomsday Machine.
People poetry
Once we have understood the roots of the vast cultural change confrontwe can understand the flowers, the actual works t art and literature that are its expression. So to take the most conspicuous example, there are technological, social, and moral reasons why poetr) ing the world society,
is
leaving the printed page for song or for other oral presentation of whi< h
poetry readings are only one kind.
man
It all
began
in Fiance
occupation when the singers of the caves of
communicate things
that could not be printed,
St.
during the Ger-
Germain were
and the
tions of the Resistance— Segher's Poesie '41, '42, '43,
able to
Fugitive publica-
'44,
and the
etc.
pamphlet poems of the editions de ratnuif—were circulated, memorized, and recited clandestinely. The leading French poets still, today, are singers, not book poets, and the leading literary poets arc still those who came up in the underground press. Pierre Seghers himself writes toi both print and voice. By and large, the French poets who have come up since the war, and who are now, with the passing of the last heroes ol the herou a drear) French modernist poetry, the contemporary establishment, are lot. Two thousand years of French culture- would seem to be wasted it
"
Literature
the authoritarian medieval society.
The} were sung gambled
bierstubes by wandering scholars while the)
in at
wine
cellars
and
backgammon and
The music locks with the rhythms of dance. same thing that poet-singers in the student hangouts in the same old Paris Latin Quarter sa\ today. Later, the medieval poet Villon is the \er\ archetype, the poet laureate of five hundred years of counterculture. So clearly does he speak tor a way of lite that his name has become a common adjective in European languages. So too the troubadours whose songs of erotic mysticism are echoed today in the lyrics of Leonard Cohen or Anne Sylvestre. All lyric poetry voices such sentiments— "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die"; "Hurry up and jump into bed, we're not going to last forever"; "Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." The difference between the straight world and the counterculture is that the latter takes seriously the ethics of lyric poetry, in fact makes a life philosophy, a world view of it. Older, more conventional people have often remarked that the current revolution has almost no critics, even hardly any prose writers, much less gamboled with
The
a
their doxies.
lyrics sa\ the
John Locke,
a
Bentham
though the processes of
or John Stuart Mill, a
social
change are
far
Marx
or a Lenin,
al-
more advanced than the
an indication, not is. Changes in the environment may be met by changes in clothing or changes in the bloodstream and metabolism. Ideologies are only adaptations of costume. analogous ones in the days of those ideologists. This
of
how
superficial,
but of
how fundamental
is
the change
Democratization
The
diffusion of creativity, of art
what, to the old
When
Lenin
elite
said,
didn't say the cook efficient.
and
literature,
is
accompanied with
guardians of culture, seems a decided drop in quality. "Under socialism any cook can run the state," he
would be cordon bleu or
So the standards of the
arts are
the bureaucracy
would be
being lowered to a point where
almost anybody with a creative urge can meet them. Anybody can do junk sculpture. All you need is some junk, and with time and patience the mulberry leaf
is
turned into
satin.
Yet new standards are evolving, as
is
apparent in the careers of Bob the French singers Georges Brassens and Jacques Brel, until finally the scene is dominated by poet-singers like Leonard Cohen and Anne Sylvestre, who are great by any standards. In the rush of events and crush of Dylan, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, or
popularity few people pause to reflect that
poet English Canada has ever produced, yet
148
Cohen is certainly the finest who would deny it? Sylvestre
embodies the millennium-long tradition of the singers of the wine cellars and cafes of France, from the goliards and troubadours and trouveres, through Charles Cros, Yvette Guilbert, Aristide Bruant, down to the
Georges Brassens (above), Jacques
Brel
(left)
Kenneth Rexroth
popular
Her
stars of
French
television.
She
is
a
most impressive poet indeed.
best lyrics are quite the equal of, for instance, Apollinaire's classic
"Pont Mirabeau," itself a cafe chantant song that has been recorded to some thirty different melodies. Poetry, which, as they say in show business, can be projected, is sung by all the leading cafe chantant singers in France— filuard, MacOrlan, Prevert, Carco, Seghers, Joe Bosquet, poets of the widest variety can be heard nightly in the cafes. Yvette Guilbert
generations ago sang Ronsard's famous sonnet,
"When you
are old
two and
and Leo Ferre sings Baudelaire, even some of the prose poems. Why doesn't anybody in America sing Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Snyder, Bill Knott, Philip Whalen? The San Francisco poet David Meltzer has shown that it can be done. He sings himself very effectively, and, of course, there's Cohen. Why can't Joan Baez sing Lenore Kandel? Kandel is herself a singer. Why doesn't she sing herself? If she does, why isn't she on records? There are historical and social reasons for the immense following of poets like Yevtushenko, Voznesensky, and Bella Akhmadulina in Russia, and Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, and Snyder in America, and for the failure in both countries of these poets to merge with the modern folk-song movement. In Russia it's very simple. The cafe chantant has only come back in recent years and is dominated by "ethnic" songs and the old standards, like "Stenka Razin" and "Black Eyes." Patronage is largely confined to the sitting
by the
fire,"
managerial caste with its typical bureaucrats' sentimental taste. The general atmosphere is conformist and anachronistic. The youth centers, or rather, youth cafes and night clubs, are few and far between, strictlj policed,
Other
and even more
activities of the
strictly
limited in capacity by "fire regulations.
younger generation are institutionalized and domi-
nated by the Komsomol, the Young Communist reactionary than the party Literature,
League,
today more
itself.
on the other hand, has great
prestige.
Yevtushenko ami Voz-
nesensky were launched on their careers in the Thaw (Akhmadulina was Yevtushenko's wife). It was as though they wear pulled up out ot tin-
underground by the political police, called before the Kulture Kommissai and her great and good friend Nikita Khrushchev, and ordered, "Make like Allen Ginsberg, and at the completion of your individual, personal \>i a first Five-Year Plan, you are ordered to overtake and surpass him decade poets like this functioned as salct\ valves, and lui th< more as lafet) 1
i
valves through which so
much
high-pressure hoi steam was rushing thai
was dangerous to shut them off. Recently the) have been crippled b) a combination of co-optation and intimidation not unlike what happens with multimillion-dollar record and concert contracts in the free world A poet-singer like Wolf Biermann was mu< h losei to a ( l« man ve rion of the cafe chantant, which had produced the songs i Bertoll Brechl to the music of Kurt Weill, and which, as in France, goes bai k to the Middle it
c
Literature
Ages. After
the principal manuscript of the goliardic songs of the
all,
medieval wandering scholars was found in the German monastery ol Benediktbeuern and contains German, as well as Latin, songs of wine, women, social protest, and the community of love. As Biermann's fame
began
to spread across the world, the
regime inhibited
his travel to the
West, and finally his appearances in East Germany, and in 1969 seems to
have silenced him completely. In Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Poland, and Hungary, there are
many
and poets who sing or recite their poetry with the same intense tribal relationship and the same total commitment to social responsibility, but who so far are isolated from international fame by language. Note, however, what the focal points of the youth revolt in the Peoples' Democracies are— the statues of Mayakovski in the cities of Russia; the Petofi statue during the Hungarian revolt; the statues of Mickiewicz in Warsaw and Krakow; and in Prague, the Viola Cafe, whose proprietors modeled themselves on the Cellar in San Francisco, where many young Czechs believed the brief New Era was conceived and incubated. Primarily poet-singers
the objection to such tribalized relationships as those of the Beatles, the
Rolling Stones, or even Joan Baez to their audiences is, as it were, logistic —three hundred thousand young people who have tuned in, turned on,
and dropped
out, congregated in
one place, would threaten the very ex-
meaning
istence of a totalitarian regime or, for that matter, threaten the of
power
itself.
No
one
fears "the
mob"
like those
it
once put in power.
People have seen the threat of fascism in the mass outpourings of youth. "All
it
needs," say they, "is a charismatic leader, a white knight on horse-
back," but the charisma only works
when
it is
a direct expression of the
McCarthy could hardly be called a demagogue. Even the Black Panthers have become influential strictly in proportion to their abandonment of their youthful demagogy. We should remember that counterculture. Senator
when
the Panthers were at their wildest they were, most of them, high-
school boys. It is difficult to see
how
charismatic poets like Ginsberg and Snyder
could any longer be corrupted. Bitter experience of the years
when
the
news weeklies, the picture magazines, and what Madison Avenue calls the media— a. singular noun— have tried to turn them into allowed clowns, has provided both of them, and everybody like them, with permanently built-in fail-safe mechanisms. Then, too, Madison Avenue already has in circulation several highly profitable simulacra. Their motto is, "If you can't co-opt him, you can always make a reasonable facsimile thereof out of soybeans."
During 1969 Snyder has moved
152
to a central position for the
obvious
and most articulate of his colleagues. For many years he was away, most of the time in a monastery in Japan, in India, or working in the States in the mountains for the Forest or Park Service. At his rare appearances his effect upon
reason that he
is
the best informed, most thoughtful,
Leonard Cohen (above), Evgeni Yevtushenko
(right)
audiences who packed halls to hear him was— what? Stupendous? Terrific? Tremendous? Groovy? Not even Ginsberg had such impact, such total projection and identification. The word is empathy, used in its correct, not jargon, sense of physiological reciprocity. During those yean the world was catching up with Snyder, for he certainly was the first, at least overt, poetic voice of the ecological revolution. Ginsberg's life philosophy is
largely a kind of instinctive, orgiastic Judaism; he
sion of the Hasidic zaddikim, the Cabalistic poets,
Hosea and the Isaiah
community
is
a
modern
expres-
and the wilder prophets
Snyder lias a perwhich the ecolo concept of all life as community, the mutual aid oi Kropotkin, and the Buddhist love and respect for all sentient creatures are merged into a coherent and readily negotiable pattern, completely relevant to the in like
of the
fectly clear, carefully
thought out
temporary situation.
I
wouldn't
life
(all
it
love.
l
philosophy
in
ideology, hut he certainly answers
the quest of the critics in the older generation
man, or theoretician of the counterculture. What makes Snyder so extremely popular
is
ii
an ideologist, spokes-
relevance.
The develop
153
Gary Snyder
ment of a new ethic, a new aesthetic, a new life style, among artists, writers, and musicians and the youth for whom they speak has coincided with the breakdown of the older order. It was to be expected that, in the face of an ecological crisis of terrifying proportions, those is
essentially ecological
would
whose philosophy
of life
find themselves in positions of leadership
on their part, but it is important to realize that they were there beforehand and had developed on their own terms, indewithout any
effort
pendently of the general
crisis.
mankind has been brought face to face hundred years of the "value neuter" scien-
Since Nagasaki and Hiroshima,
with the consequences of tific
method,
finally
ethics. Ecology, its
we
five
with value neuter philosophy, even value neuter
are
now
discovering,
is
precisely that science
which
in
operation produces evaluations, even a scale of values, a hierarchy of
goals.
For a century
archy, have been
now
the sciences of
under the leadership of
man, emptied of any such hierand psychoanalysis
a psychology
increasingly pathologically oriented. 154
It
has often been pointed out by historians of the philosophy of medi-
Kenneth Rexroth
cine that both giene.
Greek and American civilizations were dominated by hyof Aristotle and the philosophy of William James
The philosophy
and John Dewey are rooted in medical concepts. The essential difference is that Greek medicine was focused on health, guided by the concept of man at his optimum, while American medicine is oriented toward morbidity, so that eventually almost all psychologists and psychoanalysts emerge from their value neuter descriptions of human behavior with the shocking conclusion, "Everybody is sick"; "We are all more or less crazy." It is
man
only in very recent years that the concept of
returned to the
life sciences.
When Abraham Maslow
subject he threw a bombshell into psychology
at his first
and
optimum has
brought up the
sociology.
We
all
learned in our high-school general science class what a paramecium at
optimum
was. It was a
paramecium over
a microecology permitted
it
in that corner of the tank
its
where
to function at fullest capacity, to realize itself
me alone, man. I just do nice things with my friends." What the spokesmen of the counterculture are all saying is that man can be a reasonable and self-determinative paramecium. He can, with his fellows, create the local environment in a society which will realize the greatest possible human potential. It is that or nothing— either optimum man or extinction. This is why Marx and Freud are lost on the other side of the generation gap, and why their followers are not listened to. All the major works of Marx after 1848 are concerned with social pathology—as Freud is concerned exclusively with sickness. After their youth, Marx and Engels refuse even to discuss the socialist society of the future, and in all the works of orthodox psychoanalysis there is no convincing portrayal t a mentally healthy human being. This is why the old masters of the counterculture are precisely the Utopian socialists and anarchists attacked by Engels, or they are William Morris, John Ruskin, Suzuki, or Alan Watts, or anti-Freudians like Marcuse, Reich, and Norman Brown, llu \ as
completely as possible as a paramecium. "Let
want
to
try to
answer the question, "What
is it
like to
be well? " .Meanwhile,
all
around, the world sickens toward death.
Fiction
It is difficult to talk
about the
very definite reasons. Fiction poetry. It has largely lost,
due
fiction of the is
due
decade
in these
terms
toi
three
incomparably more commercialized than to
its
decline in quality, which in turn
is
critical readers. Content]
an audience mostly for the immature, bui most of the immature prefer television. Since fiction must compete with the film and u-h-\ ision, it must try to equal the empty intensity of their stimulations. As In as the pubto its commercialization,
rary fiction
lishers are
anyway.
l
is
concerned, most novels are written
The
result has
been an
c\ ci
to be sold
t«>
the movi
accelerating sensationalism.
Phe
las!
Literature
Isaac Bashevis Singer five years
have seen the growth of
established publishing houses
sterile, infantile
now
issue
pornography, until old,
masturbation companions with
no more content than the mimeographed twenty-five-cent booklets once and known as "four sheeters." The evils of pornography are vastly overrated. Danish experience indicates it may well do more good than harm, but it certainly is not the art of fiction. The objection has nothing to do with puritanism; it's just that such immediate lures and satisfactions are the opposite of the long-term realizations of any art. Imagine War and Peace or even Wuthering Heights or The Brothers Karamazov improved and augmented, each with fifty sold in high schools
pages or so of choice pornography. 156
have made the most
It is
interesting that those authors
use of such materials,
who
from William Burroughs'
Kenneth Rexroth
Naked Lunch
to Philip Roth's Portnoy's
Complaint, have been intensely
puritan in their attitudes toward sex. Perhaps this the past ten years by
and
is what the novel of breakdown into extreme Certainly the two best novels of 1969
large represents— the
overreaction of the puritan ethic.
were by Vladimir Nabokov and Isaac Bashevis Singer, both of whom look on contemporary civilization from the outside. Both too are men with a wide range of general ideas; the great trouble with American novelists is their shocking poverty of general ideas. As Andre Malraux said long ago, "American writers do not have general ideas. In America general ideas are left to the professors." So true— today the words literary cocktail party
have replaced
ladies'
sewing
term for empty-headed, malevolent
circle as a
chatter.
In recent years the novel has been at
its
best
when
it
has given very spe-
dramatic embodiment to the most negative aspects of the general crisis of the society. I can think of few American novels that can be compared with the work of dozens of American poets as embodying a positive,
cific
or even a revolutionary, philosophy, except for the books of a few black
none
novelists,
of
whom
have yet reached the mastery of the medium
achieved by Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, or James Baldwin. There
simply
is
no contemporary novel
of black life that can even remotely
com-
pare with the best statements of fact— The Autobiography of Malcolm or Eldridge Cleaver's Soul on Ice.
An immense amount fiction of a sort that
of
highbrow
fiction
and almost
all
appears in the big women's magazines
the is
X
lowbrow
concerned
with the unmanageable conflicts and meaningless catastrophes that beset the American family. A large proportion of these writers are Jewish. Herbert Gold, Bernard
Malamud,
Philip Roth, Saul Bellow,
Norman Mailer—
they are only few out of many. Probably the best analyst of the pathetically
WASP suburbanite family is George P. Elliott, whose sharply clinical stories make me feel bad for days. Its hard to write about contemporary American fiction because it's so hard to read. Where can you turn? Science fiction? Detectives? Westerns? Alas, these have all become sterilized package commodities untouched 1>\ human hands, and again, alas, they too have been invaded by a cocktail-part) psychiatry ami the quickie stimuli of pornography. We have had no Simenons. We no untragic tragedies of the
longer produce any Dashiell
Hammetts, Raymond Chandlers, Ernest
Haycoxes.
Probably the best novelists of disorder, sorrow, and chaos are imported. For skill and depth of bite I can think of no Auk u an who an compai e with the early work of Gunter Grass 01 his contemporary luccessoi in the field, Jakov Lind. The novels of Witold Gombrowia have atn acted littlec
i
among intellectuals. Perhaps they're ovo he are cci tamh among the besl ol this kind.
attention in America, even
everybody's heads, but they great trouble with years
is
that
it
has
all
1
the best-known and most su< essful fiction
little
\
I
in\
it
n
York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1967.
Songbooks of music and Lyrics by Bob Dylan, Joan Baes, Simon and Carfunkel, Leonard Cohen, Arlo Guthrie, the Beatles, and tnosi everybody else am be found in most music stores. These never contain the material in iheh latest records.
177
R.
Robert Henry Robins qualified to report
An
development Linguistics.
its
A Short
in
He has
among
research
General
Introductory Survey,
1967, he studied
in
of
1964 he described
entire field in his
Linguistics:
and,
especially well
on the development
linguistic studies. In
and analyzed the
is
Robins
H.
historical
History of
carried out original
the Yurok Indians of
northern California, and his results,
published by the University of California Press, constitute the
language. Educated is
at
first
of their
Oxford University, he
now Professor
University of London,
since 1948.
account
He
of Linguistics at the
where he has taught is
well
known
in
the
United States, having been Research
Fellow
at
Berkeley
the University of California at
in
1951, and Visiting Professor
at the University of
and
Washington
at the University of
Hawaii
in in
1963 1968.
Linguistics
Linguistics as a field of scholarship
Linguistics tific
is
often defined as the science of language, or as the scien-
study of language, interpreting the terms science and scientific
in their broadest sense, to fact
and the formulation
mean
the systematic
of theory. It
is
and objective statement
regarded by
many people
of
as a
modern subject among academic disciplines, and if one judges by reference to university departments, appointments, and degree subjects it is certainly true. The term linguistics and equivalent terms in
relatively this
other languages,
e.g.,
German
Sprachwissenschaft, came into general use
during the nineteenth century, but the formal recognition of the subject
began in the present century. Growth in research and teaching under this head was most marked in the United States between the two world wars and has continued there since then; in Britain and on the continent of Europe, and elsewhere, linguistics has been at the forefront in the expansion of university education that has so much characterized the past two decades. The science of language in the nineteenth century was largely dominated by historical considerations, in the main due to the intellectual excitement caused by the emerging picture of the Indo-European family of genetically related languages, covering most of Europe, parts ol the Middle East, and northern India. This aspect of linguistic studies is still familiar in the English-speaking world under the title com pin at
really
philology. It would, however, be a serious mistake to say thai linguistic studies only began in the nineteenth or twentieth century. From the earliest
we have of ancient cultures and from the evidence provided by the ethnographic study of diverse cultures in the modern world, it is clear that the existence and the working of human language has always
records that
and wonder. In a numbei ol centers o( civiliwonderment has independently developed through
excited man's admiration zation this primitive
1
"folk linguistics" into an organized and scientific stud)
ol
language,
1
in-
world over, is the heii to the- pi oduc ts ol .ill these sepa rate developments. One advantage that present-day linguistics has ova earlier periods is guistics today, the
Linguistics
that of seeing all
how and where
the subject should be divided in order that
may be adequately surveyed and anaby no means to say that linguistics today is at the end ot the
the relevant data of language
lyzed.
This
is
road and that the vast complexity ot language can now be regarded as laid bare. Indeed, some ot the most recent developments in linguistics have served rather to open up vistas of unexplored detail and further data, to which our theories are only beginning to adjust themselves. But we do now have a far better picture of the main headings under which language must be studied, whereas earlier linguists, however good their work was (and much of it was very good and made an indispensable contribution to our present-day achievements), frequently suffered through
Some contemporary through obstinacy or ignorance, and with far
leaving unheeded whole areas of relevant study. guists
may
still
do
this,
linless
excuse.
The
scientific
study of language
is
not the same as "language study" in
the sense of the acquisition of fluent
languages; and the use of linguist to
command of one or more foreign mean a student of language must
be distinguished from the more popular use of the word as a synonym of
one who is a skilled performer in a number of languages. Such and the teaching that produces it, is not to be underrated. Much of the stimulus to scientific linguistics came from the results of language contacts and the need to teach and learn other languages than one's own; and some of the most important practical consequences of linguistic studies lie in the improvements they have made possible in the teaching of languages (a field known as "applied linguistics"). But the linguist, as he is being considered in this article, is concerned with human language as a subject worthy of study in its own right. His scope includes equally languages of worldwide civilization and literature, such as English, French, and Spanish; languages known only from written records, such as Ancient Greek and Hittite; and unwritten languages, often spoken by fewer than a hundred speakers and on the verge of extinction, such as is the case with many of the native Indian languages of North America. Two facts about language stand out. At any period a speech community operates with its language in all necessary forms of communication without the need to know about or to think about the past history of the language. Indeed, in an unwritten language (and the majority of languages are still unwritten, although of course the best-known and widely used languages have long since been reduced to writing) there can be no direct knowledge of its past history. In other words, a language is at any one time and in any one speech area a self-contained system, in which native speakers are able to produce and understand, without any effort or even any great attention, an infinite number of sentences, most of which have never been uttered or heard before in the speakers' experience. But we know that languages are always changing over the course of polyglot,
an
180
ability,
Robins
R. H.
A
years.
comparison of Old English (Anglo-Saxon) with modern English,
modern French, Spanish,
or of Vulgar (colloquial) Latin with
which are
all
descended from
it,
makes
this clear. In
or Italian,
favored cases, as in
the history of English, several of the stages linking two widely separated
periods are preserved: for example, Old English, Chaucerian English.
Shakespearean English, 3 the English of the Authorized Version of the Bible, eighteenth-century English, 4
and modern English. Some
parts of a
language change more quickly than others; vocabulary can change very rapidly in periods of rapid cultural change, but pronunciation and gram-
mar change much more
slowly, so that within a lifetime speakers are not normally conscious of any changes in them. It is absurd to imagine anyone thinking that he was the last speaker of Late Latin or the first of
Early French!
An
adequate study of language must give due attention to each of these its self-contained working at any time (be it present or past) and its continuous change in time. Since Ferdinand de Saussure first made this necessary distinction clear to us, early in this century, these two
dimensions,
aspects of language study are often
known,
in his terminology, as syn-
chronic and diachronic, respectively. Alternatively, the terms descriptive
and historical them both.
linguistics
braces
linguistics are used,
and general
linguistics
em-
Linguistic levels
Independent of the distinction just made the study of language into a
they are often called. the general
human
number
matters
It
of
is
the division of language and
component
capacity for
the structure of a particular language; the point
any and every language, revealing just
and
it
is
is
human
that
immensely complicated (modern
how much more complicated
cannot be analyzed or
be focused on
aspects or levels, as
whether one is considering primal ih the acquisition and use of a language or
little
it
is
somewhat
satisfactorily studied en bloc. Attention
in detail
on
this,
is
than was once thought),
separate, though, ol course, interrelated, aspects
Linguists differ
languaj
linguistics
must levels.
oi
bul very generally the follow-
ing levels of linguistic statement and. in consequence,
ol
language are
recognized: phonetics, phonology, grammar, and lexicon. These levels are independent of the synchronic-diachroni< distinction, referred to above, in that any and all ol them must be considered in an) complete study of language both from the viewpoint oi a communication
system working at a given time and from thai
gone
Phonetics: Speech that
ol historical
changes under-
in time.
homo
sapiens
is
is
the primary material oi language. Since
coeval with
lennia of development behind peared, perhaps four
01
five
homo it
loquens,
human
it
is
likel)
iad mil-
Ian
before the earliest written records ap
thousand years ago. Literaq
is
b)
no means
Linguistics
normal human beings acquire their naease, and in literate communities they tive Language in learn to speak before learning to read and write; and for everyone far more time is spent hearing and speaking than reading and writing. It maybe taken for granted that language has evolved in the way it has and is maintained in its known forms primarily to meet the requirements of oral communication. Phonetics may be considered from three sides. Articulatory phonetics looks at the production of speech sounds by a speaker and their description by reference to the movements and positions of the vocal organs involved. Acoustic phonetics examines the nature and structure of the sound waves so produced and their transmission through the air or other material. Auditory phonetics concerns itself with the impact of these sound waves on the ear and their conversion through the aural mechanism and the auditory center of the brain into perceived sounds on the part of the hearer. Since the organs of speech, unlike the mechanism of universal, but all physiologically
childhood with
the ear, are relatively accessible studies are the
most
easily
articulatory phonetic
to observation,
undertaken and have been developed
Only
centuries in different centers of linguistic science.
for
many
in recent years
have we acquired enough sensitive apparatus adequately to investigate acoustic and auditory phonetics, but their findings have been of tremendous importance to language study. Phonology: Speech sounds, the field of phonetics, constitute the potential material of spoken language. But languages select different ranges and sounds and organize them differently. In a number of languages of India, aspirated spectively, with
and unaspirated p, t, and k (consonants released, and without a little puff of air) can distinguish two
ferent words; in English, aspiration or
its
lack
is
largely
re-
dif-
determined by
the environment in which the sound occurs: initially these consonants are aspirated, after
s
they are unaspirated (compare team and steam); in
French, aspirated consonants do not appear at differ greatly
in the syllable
Hawaiian and Fijian have no
and word syllables or
to speakers of these languages the English
Moreover, languages
words ending in a consonant;
word strengths and the German
would seem almost impossible, though they pass unnoticed among native speakers of English and German. Other languages, for example Italian and Finnish, lie between these limits of syllable complexity. The study of the contrastive and sequential relations between the sounds employed in particular languages is designated phonology. Alphabetic writing systems— Roman, Greek, Cyrillic— and syllabic writing systems—Javanese, Japanese (in part), and in some respects the DevanagarT script of Hindi-speaking India— depend on an intuitive partial phonological analysis of the language, though they vary in accuracy and exactness (Chinese character writing rests on a different basis: in brief, each charac-
sprichst
182
all.
structures that are permitted.
R.
ter represents either
hi.
Robins
an individual word or an individual constituent of
a word).
As the as
remedy the shortcomings
result of attempts to
accurate representations of what
is
of writing systems
actually pronounced,
from the
seventeenth century on, linguists have worked on transcriptions: narrow or phonetic transcriptions attempt to represent graphically the actual
phonetic features involved in speech; phonological transcriptions limit themselves to providing one distinct sign and one only for each distinctive
sound unit in a given language, collectively representing environmentally determined differences (English aspirated and unaspirated / in the example above) by a single written symbol. Grammar: Grammar has for long been recognized as the central part of language study. Traditionally it has been divided into morphology, the study of
word
structure,
and syntax, the study
of sentence structure,
a division not maintained by all linguists today, at least in
form, but one that can
still
its
traditional
be defended as theoretically sound and ana-
In a rather more comprehensive use, grammar has often been taken to include phonology (consider the expected contents of a
lytically useful.
Grammar tion
of French). Linguists differ in their interpretation of the rela-
between the
levels of
phonology and grammar.
Lexicon: While grammar considers words for what they have in com-
mon,
either in morphological
form or in syntactic function, in the
lexi-
con of a language one is examining each word as an individual entity, with its own specific pronunciation, grammatical status (e.g., noun), and meaning. The product of lexical study in synchronic (descriptive) linguistics is
the dictionary; in diachronic (historical) linguistics
it
leads to et\-
mologies of the words in a language.
Both grammar and lexicon are involved in semantics, the study of meanThe meaning of a sentence is the joint product of the structural meaning of its syntax (e.g., question, statement, command, emphasis, subject as against object in its nouns in relation to the verb) and the combined individual lexical meanings of its component words. The nature of the meaning relation and indeed the whole problem of meaning have been debated by philosophers, psychologists, and sour- linguists from ing.
very early days; several radically different points up, but a general, agreed standpoint on
theory and semantic
method seems
made
as iai
oi
view have been taken
the most adequate semantic
;nv;i\
as ever, despite the
great
understanding the nature ol the questions involved. In its widest sense, semantics lias been made- to covei the \ci\ extensive and complex relations holding between different types and styles progress that has been
in
and different personal relations, social roles, language hino reco and verse literature, colloquial speech, oratory, eu nized in societies. Linguists diner in the degree to whi< h the} im lude iim h topics within their main field of interest.
of utterance tions (prose
|
183
Linguistics
Early history of linguistic studies
Mention has already been made of the origin of linguistics in the natural wonderment aroused in man when he contemplates the power and mystery of speech. In several centers of early civilization,
this developed independently into linguistic science, the special concern of certain individuals recognized as its practitioners. In China the particular nature of the character writing system and the grammatical structure of classical
Chinese, wherein word form variation (inflexion) such as
languages like Latin and German, and to a
lesser
we know
it
in
extent in English, was
almost entirely absent, fostered a concentration on lexicography and phonology. Dictionaries of Chinese, setting out the characters roughly in the
way they
are listed today, date from the second century
a.d.,
the same period began a succession of studies in the structure
and from and pro-
nunciation of the syllables composing the words of the language.
In ancient India linguistics developed to a very high standard. Originally motivated by the need that was felt to preserve the pronunciation
and structure
employed in certain ritual utterances and and unaltered, it resulted in studies in linguistic theory and in the phonetics and grammar of Sanskrit that were in several respects far ahead of anything done in linguistics elsewhere for many centuries. The best-known figure in this work was Panini, whose date has been variously put between 700 and 300 B.C.; his description of Sanskrit word structure is regarded as a model of exhaustiveness and scientific rigor unexcelled before or since. This work and the series of treatises on Sanskrit phonetics have enabled us to know more about the structure and the pronunciation of that language than of other dead languages, even the European classical languages, Greek and Latin, about whose pronunciation we still lack certainty on a number of important details. The discovery and interpretation of this work by European scholars from the end of the Sanskrit
religious usages intact
of the eighteenth century proved a decisive stimulus in the progress of
European
linguistics.
Linguistics in Europe, like so in the speculations of early title
many
Greek
of philosophia (philosophy),
sights
into
the
potentialities
of
other intellectual activities, began
thinkers,
and Plato
under the then all-embracing is
grammatical
credited with the analysis.
He
first in-
devoted a
on and nature of language. Under the combined influences of philosophers and literary critics, Greek thinkers on language worked out
Socratic dialogue, the Cratylus? to the discussion of various questions
the origin
through successive stages the parts of speech (noun, verb, pronoun, categories (case, gender, number, tense, mood,
and the grammatical
that are familiar today;
184
grammar
were laid down.
their
work culminated
etc.)
in descriptions of the
Greek (100 b.c.-a.d. 200) in which the main language such as has been taught ever since the of
morphology and syntax lines of the
and
etc.)
of
R. H.
The Romans,
Robins
and copying of Greek and sciences, analyzed Latin grammar on the same descriptive basis and enshrined it in a series of Latin grammars written in the early centuries a.d., of which the most famous are the relatively short grammar of Donatus (fourth century) and the immensely long one by Priscian (c. a.d. 500), these two becoming the foundation of the study of the Latin language and of grammar in medieval Europe. models in the
From
true to their respectful adoption
arts
antiquity
we can
study in Europe leading
follow an uninterrupted tradition of language
up
to
contemporary
linguistics
through a
series
of successive phases. In the late medieval period Priscian's description of
Latin lastic
grammar was taken over and incorporated
into the system of scho-
philosophy, a joint product of Catholic faith and Aristotelian logic
shaped by such thinkers
number
as St.
Thomas Aquinas, 6 and
there resulted a
grammars") wherein language was displayed as part of an entire and unified Church-inspired world view. During the Middle Ages European linguists undertook the serious stud\ of Hebrew and Arabic, making use of the work already done by Arab grammarians. After the rapid expansion of Islam from the seventh century the requirements of administration and religion (the study of the Koran) led to an independent development of Arabic linguistics, in which the grammar of classical Arabic was codified in its present form by such early scholars as Sibawayh (end of eighth century). Arabic scholarship was an important influence on Hebrew linguistic work, and Western study of these two languages provided European linguistics with its first serious investigation of languages other than Latin and Greek. After the Renaissance European linguistics expanded in several dirt H tions, more particularly as more and more languages from the newl\ discovered extra-European world were recorded and studied. From the of treatises ("speculative
sixteenth century Chinese
became known
to the
hitherto outside the ken of Europeans, and with
West, a type of langua it
the scholarship already
expended on it by native linguists. With European lingua franca of educated discourse arose the stud) i mar and pronunciation of the European vernaculars, Further
the decline of Latin as the
ing the field of the linguist's attention. Scholastic
grammar
the gramdiversify-
hardl)
sur-
vived the scholastic age; in the post-Renaissance centuries theories
language and theories of grammar were debated along the
lines ol
philosophical controversy between the empiricists,
ioi
tion to such
men
looking
ol
the
inspira-
and Hume. 7 and the rationalists, important series ol grammars was produced in
as Locke, Berkeley,
looking to Descartes.
An
France under the direct influence of Cartesian philosophy
in
the seven
teenth and eighteenth centuries. It is only very recently that contemporary linguists have realized the importance and the relevance to our own work toda) ol the achievements of European linguistic scholarship between antiquity and the nineteenth century. Too many writers, until a lew yeai i ago, would dismiss the Eu
185
Linguistics
pean heritage
in halt a
dozen paragraphs
theoretically or historically.
much many
Now
it
is
as of little significance either
being increasingly
realized
how
and seventeenth-century predecessors have to teach us, both in relation to our own theoretical problems and debates and as part of the intellectual and cultural history of the European community. Inspired by this latter-day realization, active research is going on in the history of linguistics, though there remain great gaps both in our actual knowledge and in its interpretation. of our medieval
Nineteenth-century linguistics Typical of studies
this neglectful attitude
serious linguistics
began
be precise. This date
which
toward the
earlier history of linguistic
the formerly prevalent view, enshrined in several textbooks, that
is
Sir
is,
at the
William Jones,
strated for the
first
end
of the eighteenth century, in 1786 to
indeed, significant, because a British
it
was the year
in
high court judge in India, demon-
time the indisputable genetic connection of Sanskrit,
the classical language of India, with Latin, Greek,
and the Germanic
languages, as well as bringing to the notice of European scholars the work
done by the Sanskrit grammarians and phoneticians mentioned above (p. 184).
The
effects of this discovery of Sanskrit
by Europeans were twofold.
In descriptive work the phonetic achievement of the ancient Indians
wholly revitalized European articulator} phonetic investigations, which
had been
deficient in a
number
of respects hitherto,
and the Paninean
techniques of word-structure analysis virtually opened a
morphological theory, being directly relatable to the concept
(p. 203).
diate effects were
But
it
felt.
The
was in historical
new door in morpheme
later
linguistics that the
most imme-
discovery of the genetic affiliations of Sanskrit
with the major languages of Europe, coinciding with the historicist tendencies of late
eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century romanticism and
nationalism, inaugurated a century during which the historical dimension of language studies held the center of attention. This epoch was a special
achievement of German scholarship; chairs of Sanskrit combined
with historical linguistics were established in the universities, and work in this field in
German
Great Britain and America was largely in the hands of
expatriates
(Max Muller)
or of
men
trained in
Germany (W.
D.
Whitney). Learned societies devoted to historical linguistics made their appearance in Britain and on the continent during this century. The permanent achievements of nineteenth-century historical linguistics were
and method of this aspect of language remained valid ever since, and the establishment of the Indo-European family of languages and of other genetic language families based on the same principles. the explicit formulation of a theory
study,
186
which has
in
its
essentials
R. H.
Robins
on the theory during on a widening range of material from languages both living and dead, and it was set out toward the end of the century in the form that has been substantially accepted, with some additions and modifications, up to the present day. Briefly the main feaSuccessive generations of scholars concentrated
the nineteenth century, working
(modes of pronunciation) change gradubut regularly over the course of years in the transmission of a language from one generation to another, and that within different geographical areas the changes, or the absence of change, to which the sounds in a language are subject can be exactly stated, giving rise to the welltures of the theory are that sounds
ally
known concept
of
"sound laws." In
its
strongest form, popular in the late
nineteenth century though somewhat modified since then, sound changes
were said to take place by "blind necessity," and the laws were of the same sort as the laws of nature asserted by the physical sciences. This had the effect of concentrating attention on the apparent exceptions (word
forms apparently related to anterior forms but not adhering to the sound correspondences prevailing in other similar words); such aberrant forms as far as possible explained either by a refinement of the original law (as when certain changes undergone by consonants in the Germanic languages not fully explicable by "Grimm's Law" were brought into order by the subsequent "Verner's Law"), or by their being loanwords (words
were
brought into a language at a
later date rather
than inherited), or by the
operation of "analogy," whereby grammatically or semantically associated
words may be individually affected in pronunciation each other (thus in English at a certain period
between
s
and
o, as
w
to align
ceased to
them with
be pronounced
instanced in the word sword; this change did not
operate with swore, by analogy with the present tense form swear; the mistakes of children and foreigners in producing forms like "hitted" and
"runned" are examples of analogical creation, and the replacement of earlier holp by helped as the past tense of help is an instance of such a form becoming accepted as part of the language). On the basis of the asserted regularity of change, etymological connections can be made between word forms of successive periods in a language, and by the systematic comparison of words in different languages that appear to be related in meaning, it is possible to build up a picture of the historical connections between the languages of a single family and to go some way in "recon-
word forms of the language from which the members
structing" the
earlier
more or
less
unitary
"parent"
of the family have diverged, in the way
and Rumanian have diverged the title comparative and historical
that French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian,
from spoken Latin. This
is
the basis of
linguistics.
Concomitantly with the development of a theory of historic a] linguistic I went the development of the Indo-European family. This nun. which dates from 1814, was devised to cover the set of languages thai Included those originally mentioned by Jones, and several others. By the end oi the
Linguistics
century the family was seen to comprise various subfamilies, such as Indo-
The Romance group is something very like it is extant in Latin (though classical literary Latin is not the same thing as the spoken "Vulgar Latin" from which the Romance languages have developed), and this provides a check or control on the comparative method by which parallel groups, such as Germanic and Celtic, and the IndoEuropean family itself, are set up on the assumption of divergent development from a common source no longer extant. Some linguists set out language families in tree diagrams to display the historical relations between the member languages; the "parent" languages of the subgroups like Latin and (nonextant) "Proto-Germanic," "Proto-Celtic," etc., then appear between the single source and the extremities of the tree. Beside the name Indo-European, Indo-Germanic is sometimes used to designate the family, which includes most (not all) of the languages of Europe together with Persian (Iranian), Sanskrit, and the major modern languages of northern India (Hindi, Marathi, etc.). During the century other genetic language families were set up on a similar basis to account for systematic correspondences in word forms, e.g., FinnoUgrian (Finnish, Lapp, Hungarian, and some other languages of eastern Europe and parts of Russian Asia), Dravidian (many languages of central and south India), and Algonkian (American-Indian languages spoken or formerly spoken on the eastern seaboard and the central plains of the United States and Canada). This latter family shows how the methods worked out for Indo-European can be applied in areas where written records are almost nonexistent by relying wholly on transcribed spoken Aryan, Celtic, Germanic, Slavic, and Romance. a special case in that the parent language or
forms.
Current research in comparative and historical linguistics has not subchanged the membership of the Indo-European family. Early in the present century Hittite was shown to belong to the family, though its exact relationship is still debated. Some rearrangements have been prostantially
posed
among
the interrelations of the
be noticed below ysis
have given
component
subfamilies,
and
as will
(p. 194) current synchronic theories of linguistic anal-
rise to fresh interpretations of the processes of linguistic
change. But the achievements of nineteenth-century historical linguistics,
though now integrated into more comprehensive general linguistic remain an impressive monument to German scholarship.
studies,
De Saussure The forms and
directions that linguistics has taken
and
is
taking during
the present century are, broadly speaking, the product of the inspiration
who by their work effected a permanent change and reorientation of the subject as they found it and left new of a few outstanding scholars,
188
R
H.
Robins
contemporaries and successors. was Ferdinand de Saussure (1857-1913), a FrenchSwiss professor who published little, but whose lectures on general linguistics at the University of Geneva were extraordinarily influential both to those who attended them and in their subsequent posthumous published form as the Cours de linguistique generate, edited by some of his pupils. 8 In Europe especially, the next generation of linguists was dominated by de Saussure's teaching. Some have indeed spoken of him as the virtual founder of modern linguistics, but this is to underrate and misrepresent the earlier work that has been sketched out above. The point is that de Saussure was recognized for the decisive contribution he made in and just after his lifetime, while the importance now being increasingly
"growth points"
The
first
for their
of these
accorded to earlier stages and scholars covery of their thought and
its
is
more
in the nature of a redis-
relevance today.
Quite naturally, in the light of the place held in nineteenth-century by historical studies, de Saussure began his career as a com-
linguistics
making in his early life an important contribuIndo-European phonology. 9 But his major achievement was to reinstate synchronic— descriptive— linguistics alongside diachronic— historical— linguistics as an equally important component of general linguistics. A number of universally accepted concepts in linguistics were first made explicit by de Saussure, and many technical terms in the subject originated in his lectures (synchronic and diachronic, in their French forms synchronique and diachronique, are instances). It used to be said that de Saussure converted linguistics from being a primarily historical discipline to one that involved descriptive (synchronic) study. This could only be maintained when people's vision of linguistics went back no farther than the nineteenth century. In fact, in Greece and Rome, in the Middle Ages, and in ancient India, the orientation of linguists was predominantly synchronic, being concerned with the description and analysis of a particular variety of Greek, Latin, or Sanskrit, and with an associated theory of language. The strong historic i^i bias of the nineteenth century can be seen, in fact, to have been a diversion of main linguistic interests, to be accounted for by the particular [acton that were noticed at the beginning of the period. Of course, earlier linguists were not self-consciously or explicitly oriented toward description; parative-historical linguist,
tion to
the contrasts of the two dimensions of linguistic study, were not brought into our formal awareness prioi
so
obvious today,
to
de Saussure's
teaching.
De
Saussure's other principal legacy to present-da) linguistics was the
Contemporary interpretations oi the nun all linguists would necetstructuralist today; bul the main point oi the theorj
structural attitude to language.
structure vary between different schools, and not sarily
accept the
title
expounded by de Saussure is very generally acknowledged, namely, that the elements and categories by which a language operates and in terms
Linguistics
of
which
it is
analyzed have their function and their significance by virtue
of their interrelations with each other in the language
self-contained entities in isolation. case in
German and
As obvious examples
in Latin, despite their
and not simply
as
of this, the dative
common name and some
simi-
by reference to the German system of four contrasting cases and the fact that the German dative is one of the prepositional cases, as against the Latin six-case system in which the dative does not construct with any preposition; and words like good and warm derive their specific meanings from their presence in systems or fields of semantically associated but contrasting words such as excellent, fair, larity in
meaning, can only be
and
fully described
At the phonological level the must be pronounced so as to be readily distinguishable from d in deep, from n in need, etc.; but beyond this its exact phonetic realization, for example the degree of its aspiration (p. 182), varies from speaker to speaker and is less important bad,
etc.,
hot, tepid, cool, cold, etc.
English consonant sound represented by
t
in tea
provided only that its distinctiveness is maintained. Likewise in orthography the letter t may be written in various ways as long as it is always visibly distinct from /, f, etc. These considerations led to de Saussure's famous assertion "Dans la langue il n'y a que des differences." De Saussure's concern was with the whole range of linguistic levels: phonology, grammar, and lexicon; but, as it happened, it was in phonology that his ideas made their most immediate impact. Indeed, during the years between the two world wars one of the most noticeable facts in the development of linguistic science was the general dominance of phonetics and phonology. This is evinced in a number of separate ways. In Britain and to some extent also on the continent of Europe university chairs in phonetics were established in the 1920s; the first chair of linguistics in a British university was only set up in 1944. Professors of Comparative Philology there were, but their field was centered on the historical dimension of language study inherited from the nineteenth century. The International Phonetic Association was founded in 1886, but the first International Congress of Linguists was not held until 1928. More importantly, phonological theory was recognized as the pacemaker in theoretical developments at other levels, as will be seen in looking at work done in the 1930s and 1940s.
The phoneme theory
The
190
first specifically descriptive concept emerging in twentieth-century phonology was the phoneme, and phonological theory was worked out around questions on the status and definition of the phoneme and the problems and methods of the phonemic analysis of languages. Very broadly, phonemes are the distinctive sound units of a language as opposed to nondistinctively different sounds. In the English example given
R. H.
earlier the phonetically different aspirated
aspirated
t
[t]
t
[t
h ]
of steam belong to or constitute one
Robins
of team
and the un-
phoneme
/t/ contrast-
whereas in an Indian language in which aspirated /t h / and unaspirated /t/ may contrast and distinguish two words from each other they are two separate phonemes. (Slant lines are a convenient and accepted convention for indicating phonemes, with square brackets ing with /d/, /n/,
etc.,
marking speech sounds
as such.)
The
concept of distinctiveness as against nondistinctive difference is so important and basic through the whole of linguistics that it is worth
and illustrating from another field. Coins in a currency are having different values— cent, nickel, dime, quarter, etc.— and
lingering over distinct in
in using coins, as in using one's language, all the instances in any one denomination are treated as the same. But there are actual differences between individual coins— dimes with Roosevelt's head on one side and preRoosevelt dimes, British pennies with King George VI's head and those with Queen Elizabeth II's head, and so on. Such differences are observable, but they are nondistinctive in the uses to which coins are normally put. Numismatists study such differences, just as linguists study nondistinctive phonetic differences within phoneme units, because each is an interested student of the subject, coins and language respectively, and not just an
unreflective user.
The
it
in fact the Its
phoneme concept
very brief outline of the
relevant
was
to
just given will
de Saussure's insistence on contrast within
phoneme had been
show how But
a system.
in use before the publication of the Cours.
origin was in the problems faced by nineteenth-century phoneticians in
devising adequate transcriptions for languages. Spellings had for long as phonetically inaccurate; the disharmony between Enand English pronunciation had been a byword for centuries, and several attempts had been made at spelling reform, largely without success. But increased phonetic skill and accuracy showed that the graphic representation of every observable sound difference in a language, even it practicable, would lead to a quite unusable proliferation of separate sym-
been recognized glish spelling
bols.
Though he
never used the term
phoneme
in his work,
Htm
(1845-1912), one of the greatest of English phoneticians, arrived basic
phoneme concept by
every sound difference
is
\
Sweet al
the
distinguishing narrow transcription, wherein
(ideally) given separate written representation,
from broad transcription (a term still in general use), in which onh classes of sounds able to distinguish two linguistic forms (e.g., words) in a language from one another are represented by separate symbols. (In English h is a broad transcription [t ] and [t] are narrow transcription symbols; symbol.) Sweet called his broad transcription "broad ramie," because letter symbols largely derived from the roman alphabet were used; it Kl referred to in George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, and Sweet, who was I
friend of Shaw's, was the
The phoneme
as a
model
term and
for the tatter's Professoi a
concept was
in
Higgins.
\n\ general
use
l>\
the
Linguistics
1920s, but primarily as a
transcriptional device, legitimizing the units
assumed to be represented by the symbols of a broad transcription. This was its main purpose and justification for Daniel Jones, Professor of Phonetics at University College, London, 1921-49, whose works on the phonetics of British English have become standard textbooks wherever the language is studied. The further analysis of the phoneme, and of the notion of distinctiveness, was the principal achievement of the Prague school of linguists, applying Saussurean ideas to the existing transcriptionally derived
phoneme
unit.
The Prague school
The Prague
school was a group of European linguists, under the leader-
ship of Prince Nikolai Trubetzkoi (1890-1938),
who met
periodically in
Prague, although Trubetzkoi himself was Russian by birth and from 1922
was Professor of Slavic Philology in Vienna. Their main organ was Travaux du cercle linguistique de Prague (TCLP), which appeared at irregular intervals from 1929 to 1939; the 1939 issue comprised Trubetzkoi's Grundziige der Phonologie, 10 the summation of twenty years' study of phonological theory based on the concept of the phoneme as the phonologically distinctive unit of languages. Trubetzkoi was expelled from his chair shortly after the Hitlerian occupation of Austria and died soon afterward. The Second World War broke up the Prague school as a forum for international linguistics, and one of Trubetzkoi's most influento 1938
the series
tial associates,
European
now
Roman Jakobson
countries, finally
(b.
moved
1896), after staying briefly in other to the
United States in 1941 and
generally recognized as the doyen of American linguistics.
He
is
played
an important part in the development and transmission of Prague thought in America. The Prague circle re-formed after the war, but it no longer holds the center of the European linguistic stage. its
history,
School of
Its
achievements,
and its current work are well summarized in The Linguistic Prague (1966) by Josef Vachek, himself a member from its
early days.
In their work, which typical of the time was largely concerned with
phonology, Trubetzkoi and the other members of the Prague school subjected the phoneme to a thorough analysis. Their concern was not just with the
phoneme
broad transcriptions emphasized by de Saus-
as the theoretical justification for
but with the whole concept of distinctiveness, as sure, in relation to the phoneme. Their work is of lasting importance, not but because several of their developing linguistic theories and are
just as part of the recent history of linguistics,
ideas are
still
at the forefront of
actively influencing to reject, as
192
some
much
do, the
Transcriptionally the
current work, even
phoneme as a phoneme was
among
those
who have come
basic phonological unit. a single unit,
but as a
scientific
R. H.
concept
it
Robins
was further analyzable into a number of distinctive features
in
combination, which would be shared by more than one phoneme in a language, and two phonemes might differ by one or by more features. Thus English /t/ and /d/ share the feature of place of articulation (contact of the
and
of
lease,
tongue
mode
with the alveolar ridge just behind the upper teeth)
tip
of articulation (stoppage of the outgoing air followed by re-
or "plosion"), but they are distinct by reason of the presence of the
feature of "voicing" (vibration of the vocal cords during the articulation of /d/) as against the absence of such voicing during the articulation of /t/. The voiced-voiceless distinction also keeps apart /b/ and /p/, /g/ and /k/, /v/ and /f/, /z/ and /s/, and some other pairs in English. These phonemes differ distinctively by only one distinctive feature; English /b/ and /t/, on the other hand, differ by two, in respect of voicing and of place of articulation. Such are the distinctive features of a language, and there are fewer of them than there are phonemes, which they make up, since the same feature (or its absence) may form part of several different phonemes, as was seen just above. The distinctive feature was destined to have a profound effect in phonology and, by extension from phonology, in linguistic analysis at other levels.
Immediately,
it
made
clear that the basic constituents of phonolog-
ical systems were not atomic phoneme units but their component features, and that the transcriptional notion of mere distinctiveness was not enough, since phonemic distinctions were maintained in different ways. Like any
other fecund idea, the distinctive feature led to several further insights.
was now seen that separate phonemes were not all contrastive in all and that where certain contrasts were inoperative this was due to the "neutralization" of a particular feature and its absence. In English It
positions,
the six
phonemes
tip, dip,
/p/, /b/, /t/, /d/, /k/, /g/ contrast initially (pet, bet, could, good), but after /s/ there is only a three-term contrast, of
place of articulation, as in spill,
sonant of these words (/p/, /t/, /k/),
but
Conventionally the second con-
still, skill.
assigned in transcription to the voiceless
as there
trast the distinctive
articulation
is
is
phoneme
here no possibility of a voiced-voiceless con-
unit really only comprises the features of place of
and manner
A comparable
of articulation (plosion).
neutrali-
zation of the elsewhere maintained distinction of voice- and voicelessnesfl is
found in German (but not
in English) in
word
Bund 'bundle' and The neutralization of
bunt 'colored' arc
voiceless plosives occur:
exactly alike, /bunt/.
in particular positions or
final position,
environments
is
where onlj
pronounced
a particular Feature contrail
now
a
basic
concept
ot
pho-
nology, and it arises from the Prague analysis of the- phoneme into its component features. De Saussure had taught that languages musl not just be analyzed l>\ but in terms reference to contrasts at the same plai c in loi ms (pet, bet. etc .)
arrangements and structures permitted in languages. In phonology the concept of syllable structure had lor kM
also of the different sequential
Linguistics
been recognized, and its different possibilities in different languages have been noted above (p. 182); but Prague phonology studied this aspect more systematically, under the title of Grenzsignale (boundary marks) with reference both to syllables and to words. In English it is well known that a notion and an ocean form a not quite perfect pun. The consonant and vowel phonemes are the same, /anoujn/, in each case, but the /n/ is differently pronounced: in a notion it is tenser and shorter, in an ocean it is weaker and more protracted; and similar differences make a tease and recognizably different. In such cases the differences relate to, and mark, the boundaries between the words. Languages vary in this respect; there is little scope for such differences in French. In some languages certain consonants are confined to initial or to final position in syllables at ease
and thus
h/ and and final position respectively: no word, therefore, can begin with /ij/ or end with /h/ (sounds, not letters, are being referred to; there is no /h/ sound at the end of hurrah). In some languages of southeast Asia plosive consonants are confined to initial
hi
(
n S)
serve to delimit the syllables by their presence. English
on ly occur
m
syllable initial
position in the syllable (and therefore, of course, in words as well); in such
languages the feature of plosion
New
light
is
a
mark
of syllable initiality.
was shed by the Prague study of the phoneme on nineteenth-
century historical linguistics. Sound change, the basis of historical guistics,
was seen
to
lin-
be not just changes in pronunciations but rather the
realignment of phonological systems and of the contrasts of distinctive features from one period to another. This aspect of Prague phonology was outlined by Jackobson ("Principes de phonologie historique," in Trubetzkoi, Principes
de phonologie) and has since been taken up in greater detail
by others, in particular by A. Martinet ("Structure, Function, and Sound
Change,"
Word
8,
1952).
Jakobson was responsible for one of the most significant grammatical studies coming from the interwar period of the Prague school. His Beitrag zur allgemeinen Kasuslehre (contribution to the general theory of case),
published in 1936 as part of
TCLP
6, is
an example of how phonological
theory led the way at this time; the semantic and grammatical analysis of the Russian case forms
is
carried out in terms of grammatically distinctive
oppositions found in different combinations in the various cases, on a similar basis to that of the phonologically distinctive features of phonemes,
and a number of technical terms in use then and phonology were exploited in the analysis of the
since then in
Prague
case system
of Rus-
sian nouns.
Linguistics
in
twentieth-century Europe and America
Before pursuing further developments and consequences arising from
Saussurean linguistics and Prague phonology, 194
sider the organization
and growth
it
will be desirable to con-
of linguistic studies in
European and
Ft.
American
H.
Robins
universities during the twentieth century.
As has been said, was the dominant aspect during the nineteenth century, but interest in the synchronic and structural study of language arose early in the twentieth and was most powerfully stimulated by de Saussure's teaching. In his Russian student days Jakobson tells us how he was most eager to read those new structural studies that his older teachers had declared to be unimportant. 11 During the 1920s a number of books on general linguistics were published, of which the best known is probably Otto Jespersen's Language (1922), a popular work still worth reading, though none was more provocative or significant than de Saussure's Cours. A more specialized work appeared in 1928 from Louis Hjelmslev (18991961), Principes de grammaire generate, itself inspired by de Saussure's thought and one of the few original works on linguistics in the 1920s not oriented primarily toward phonology. Hjelmslev was later to develop, along with his pupils and associates in Copenhagen, a highly idiosyncratic and abstract theory of language under the title of "glossematics," set out in Danish in 1943, which aroused considerable interest after the appearhistorical linguistics
ance of the English translation 12 but has
made few
converts outside
Denmark.
The
first International Congress of Linguists met in The Hague in meeting thereafter at five-year intervals. In the United States the Linguistic Society of America, with its organ Language, was founded in 1924. Historical studies under the traditional title of comparative philology remained well established in European and American universities, and in 1922 Jespersen could still declare that linguistics was distinguished by its "historical character." 13 While, as we have seen, phonetics and phonology held the center of interest in descriptive linguistics in Europe,
1928,
it was in America that descriptive linguistics as a whole achieved its first major foothold in academic establishments. The now universal recogni-
tion of linguistics as a subject of scholarship
United States
after the
came
into being outside the
Second World War.
The American achievement
in the interwar years,
dation for the vast growth in linguistics
all
which
laid the foun-
over the English-speaking
world and elsewhere from 1945 onward, may in greal part be set to the credit of a number of outstanding American scholars actively interested in all aspects, historical as well as descriptive, of language study, in particular Franz Boas (1858-1942), Edward Sapir (1884 1939), and Leonard Bloomfield (1887-1949).
These men were well versed Bloomfield studied under the just before the First
in nineteenth-century
German
World War. But
a
August Leskien
American enAmerican Indians, ["hese languages and culture, had
special pari ol the
vironment was the anthropological stud) peoples, exhibiting a bewildering variet)
\
this reason,
209
Linguistics is so much easier between European languages than it is beEuropean language and one that is culturally Ear removed from Europe. Malinowski set out his approach to meaning in his "Ethnographic Theory of Language" (in Coral Gardens and Their Magic, vol. 2; 1935), in which the following two sentences perhaps sum up his theory: "Meaning is the effect of words on human minds and bodies and, through these, on
translation
tween
a
the environmental reality as created or conceived in a given culture." "It [translatability]
must always be based on
a
unification
of
cultural
context." Firth adopted Malinowski's context of situation to form the central
concept of his theory of language as well as of his theory of meaning. Indeed, the terms were not really separate in Firth's linguistic theory. In his case the fact that speech activity
some sense meaningful as part of the study of
led
him
and
all
other uses of language were in
to regard the study of
meaning. In
this respect Firth's
language at
all levels
thought was moving
in the exactly opposite direction to that of the "Bloomfieldians."
Meaning
term was very much extended in scope beyond its previous usages, and indeed beyond the usage of other linguists before and since, but Firth did not thereby lose all contact with the Malinowskian concepas a technical
tion; Firth's basic equation,
underlying his theory, was simply "Meaning
=
held that
function in context."
He
all
linguistic description
was the
statement of meaning at some level in relation to some context, and he
was in consequence committed to speaking technically of phonological meaning and grammatical meaning? 1 Few people have followed him as far as this, but his development of context of situation in semantics was insightful and is worthy of consideration. Firth's context of situation was a more abstract notion than Malinowski's, and it was not intended as a set of actual environmental features as such but rather as a descriptive frame w ithin which to state and categorize r
such features in the indefinitely varied actual situations of language use.
At the time he was reacting against the too facile identification of meaning with reference and was demanding that the other factors of major importance that are involved in our understanding and our responding to what is said or written in a language in which we are fluent should be made explicit in a semantic analysis and included in a theory of meaning. Such factors comprehended social connotations, degrees of familiarity between speakers and their personal relations, the course taken by any relevant prior conversation, the intended results of the utterance, and the various shared presuppositions about the uses of the words chosen. Firth, like Malinowski, regarded word meaning as an abstraction from the meanings of the sentences in which it could be used. You only know the meaning of a word fully when you know the meaning of the rest of the sentence as a whole. In this attitude Firth w as allying himself with one school of linguistic thought in ancient India (p. 184), which had maintained the semantic priority of the sentence 32 and went counter to the r
210
R. H.
Robins
which from Aristotle on had based semantic analysis on word as an independent meaning-bearing unit. 33 and Firth argued that we acquire the knowledge of Both Malinowski most word meanings through an abstraction process from manifold inWestern
tradition,
the prior existence of the
stances of their occurrence in sentences meaningfully uttered in situations.
This process of abstracting the meanings of words goes on all our lives, but it is at its most intensive in childhood. After a certain amount of such exposure, in some cases assisted by explicit instruction, we say that we know what such and such a word means, that is, we know how it is used in sentences such that our hearers and readers will on the whole understand what we have to say. There is nothing very difficult about learning word meanings; we all do it. What is much harder is making an explicit statement of them. This is the task of the lexicographer, and it is well known that any adequate dictionary entry must bring into play a good deal of contextual information as well as give a straight definition by synonyms; that is why good dictionaries give great numbers of citations of words in actual sentences. The part played by the dictionary is well summed up: "The way in which the dictionary writer arrives at his definitions merely systematizes the way in which we all learn the meanings of words, beginning at infancy, and continuing for the rest of our lives"
Hayakawa, Language in Thought and Action, 1954). Those words which can be more or less satisfactorily described semantically by pointing or by a brief but complete definition are relatively few in any language, and they are mostly nouns: "What is a zebra?," "What are pygmies?," etc. Deictic definitions can only be given and understood after an adequate knowledge of the meanings of other words, and of grammatical structures, has been acquired; they must not be regarded as (S. I.
typical of all that
is
involved in semantic description.
Firth's context of situation
was an attempt
to set out
and systematize
the relevant information that the language user takes into account in ab-
word meanings, and which, largely intuitively, governs his choice words in speaking and writing. He has been accused of confusing meaning with use; it is held that by virtue of the inherent meaning that a word has we can understand its use in a given situation, but that the two thin are distinct. Firth and those thinking like him would reply that in linguistic experience meanings are abstractions from multitudes o\ observed uses and can only be described and analyzed by reference to the relevant stracting of
factors in the situations of use, for
which context
ol situation
was intended
as a formalization.
Firth's ideas called, did
on the contextual theory
of meaning, as
not attract the attention he had hoped
penetrating studies of areas of meaning
in
lor.
it
came
though
languages were made
to
be
several
in Firth-
ian terms (e.g., T. F. Mitchell, "The Language i Buying and Selling in Cyrenaica: A Situational Statement," in HespMst 1957). Parti) this was because the general climate of linguistu opinion in the 1940s and 191
Linguistics
was unfavorable to semantic studies in general, but more particularly it must be attributed to Firth's failure to set out his theory in detail and to apply it extensively. He was undoubtedly too optimistic about the ready availability of the context of situation concept in the absence of carefully
worked out
studies of various problems. For this Linguists
who have
rently returned to semantic questions have justifiably criticized his followers;
but
it
seems
clear, nonetheless, that in
form, Malinowski and Firth did point to a
number
however inchoate
notion of linguistic meaning.
Some
a
of areas of investi-
gation that must be covered by any adequate treatment of what in the
cur-
him and
is
involved
very recent studies in semantic
theory and statement, in discussing the information a speaker controls in
knowing the
lexical
meanings of
his language,
have come quite close
to
those very factors which Firth, however crudely, was endeavoring to bring
within systematic analysis. 34
Distinctive-feature
The Prague
phonology
concept of the distinctive feature has already been mentioned
in reference to the further linguistic analysis of the
phoneme
as a basic
unit in phonological theory (pp. 192-93). This part of Prague linguistics proved extremely important in its consequences. In part these were due, as
is
move
often the case in scientific developments, to personal factors. of Jakobson,
The
one of Trubetzkoi's most distinguished associates in America in 1941 has already been noticed (p. 192).
the Prague school, to
Some
years earlier (see his Selected Writings I: Phonological Studies, 23,
272-79) he had found reason to suggest an alternative interpretation of distinctive-feature theory. Trubetzkoi's features were based
tory phonetic categories— on the place
mouth
on
articula-
of articulation in the
examples such as voicing, nasality, aspiration, Jakobson suggested that in a number of respects
of the speaker— as
plosion,
etc.,
make
clear.
might be more fruitful to consider first the distinctive qualities of the sound waves as received and interpreted by the ear and brain of the hearer. It had been known for many years that speech sounds, like all other sounds, were transmitted as vibrations of various frequencies and degrees of loudness from their source to their reception by the ear. 35 Further studies had revealed that the various audible qualities differentiating one consonant or vowel from another depended on different combinations of vibrations at specific "bands" of frequency between 15 cycles per second at the lowest and 20,000 at the highest. Of course different frequencies and intensities (degrees of loudness) in the sound waves of speech are directly and solely caused by the configurations and movements of the vocal organs, and certain perceived qualities resulting from particular combinations of frequencies can be correlated with particular articulatory movements, but there is not a clear-cut one-to-one correspondence between the most it
212
and method
R. H.
readily
available
categories
of
articulatory
description
Robins
and the most
readily available categories of acoustic description.
Jakobson's interest in the acoustic and auditory side of phonetics coincided with significant technical advances in the physical analysis of speech sounds and in their visual representation. Notable publications in this include R. K. Potter, G. A. Kopp, and H. C. Green, Visible Speech
field
(1947)
and
Joos's textbook Acoustic Phonetics (1948;
Language
24, no. 2,
supplement).
A
phonology and advancing techknowledge was a new version of distinctive-feature theory in which phonemes as distinctive units were exhaustively analyzed into combinations of a smaller number of distinctive features, identified not on an articulatory basis but on an acoustic one, in terms of the relevant structures of the sound waves. The distinctive frequency "bands" that gave rise to the qualities of speech sounds are most noticeable in vowels, where two such "bands were isolated as the most important. These range between about 200 cps and 750 cps and between about 700 cps and 3,000 cps, and they are known as "formants." The most important two formants just referred to were designated "formant 1" and "formant 2" respectively. When frequencies in these two "bands," corresponding to those identified in the visible analysis of actual spoken vowel sounds, were mechanically produced and combined together, recognizable vowel qualities were heard. Other "bands" of frequencies are also involved, and in consonant sounds the distribution result of the collaboration of revised
nical
of energy over the frequency scale
is
more
diffused,
but every speech
sound has its characteristic and distinctive wave shape or configuration of combined frequencies. Some "continuant" sounds with rather vowellike qualities,
mant
such as English "1" sounds, exhibit a
fairly clear-cut for-
structure, similar to that displayed by vowels. Machines have been
devised to produce artificial speech sounds and even stretches of
speech on this technical basis, in what
is
artificial
called "speech synthesis."
Jakobson's acoustically defined distinctive features were based in the first
instance on the distinctive sound-wave configurations characterizing
them.
Some bore
Trubetzkoi, to a specific
e.g.,
and
as contrasted
titles
similar to those of the articulator}
features of
"nasal" (the release of air through the nose giving
rise
characteristic distribution of energ) over the frequent
with "oral," characterized b\
the-
absence
o(
nasal quality.
But most of the acoustic features carried names directl) related to thesound-wave shapes and only indirectly to the articulations producing them. Thus the features "grave" and "a< ute" referred to the- concentration of energy in the lower and in the upper frequencies respectively. Some twelve such features were identified, and it was claimed l>\ several linguists that the distinctive consonant and vowel sounds and other
phonemes of all languages coidd be exhaustively described in terms oi the presence or absence of a set of features selected from the list. The binarj
Linguistics
opposition of presence and absence was conveniently like
much
of the
terminology of information theory and certain computer operations, but this was not its principal justification. It was felt that "languages were like that"
and that such
a description
was best adapted
to display the
nature and working of languages, at least at the phonological
level.
One
was, of course, operating at the phonological level of distinctiveness, basic to the
phoneme concept and
When
it
ment,
to all descriptive phonology (pp. 190-91). was said that such and such a feature was absent in a given seg-
this
did not necessarily
mean
that absolutely
no vibrations
at those
frequencies were generated or perceived, but simply that they were not
(Many speakers
pertinent or part of the distinctive quality of the segment.
some
through the nose in speaking; they "talk through their noses," but while this is noticeable it does not affect the distinction between the nasal consonants, /n/, /m/, and /o/ [wg], and the corresponding nonnasal— oral— consonants, /t/, /d/, /p/, /b/, /k/, and /g/.) Jakobson, with collaborators, was the author of two standard textbooks on acoustic-feature phonology: with C. G. M. Fant and Morris Halle, Preliminaries to Speech Analysis (1952), and with Halle, Fundamentals of Language (1956); on the preference for binary oppositions in of English release
air
distinctive-feature analysis, see Halle, "In Defense of the
Studies Presented to Joshua
Whatmough
(ed.
Number Two,"
Ernst Pulgram, 1957).
Post-"Bloomfieldian" developments
came to an end in 1957, with Chomsky's Syntactic Structures. In a sense this is a justifiable statement. Chomsky is the major figure in contemporary linguistics, and transformational-generative grammar, of which he was in effect the founder, is the most widely known and vigorously developing version of linguistic theory in the world of scholarship today. While Chomsky had put out papers on his theory before 1957 for somewhat limited circulation, the publication of Syntactic Structures really launched his name and his work before the general linguistic public. But in any It is
often said that the "Bloomfieldian" era
the publication of
Noam
survey of the history of ideas exact dates are misleading. In the nature of things, to
modes
of thought
and theories do not
rise
Transformational-generative linguistics, though
fall
and give place
it
is
the best
known
of
one of which we must take notice. Others came into prominence shortly before and after Syntactic Structures, and 1958 saw the publication of a standard textbook covering the whole subject and written almost entirely on "Bloomfieldian" lines as they had been established during the preceding two decades. 36 Moreover, important and lasting work in linguistic scholarship is still current developments,
214
and
each other at specific dates like governments or individual statesmen.
is
certainly not the only
Robins
R. H.
being carried out on "Bloomfieldian" principles, and this continue for
many
Nonetheless,
it is
to
likely
to
significant that by the latter half of the 1950s increas-
ing discontent was being
come
is
years.
felt
with the state of linguistic theory as
it
be accepted, particularly in America, where there was then
an overwhelming preponderance of pared with the rest of the world. It
this is
branch of scholarship
legitimate to speak in
as
had still
com-
Kuhnian
terms of the successful challenge at this time to the accepted "Bloomfieldian
paradigm"
198).
(p.
The
reaction of Firth in phonology has
al-
ready been noticed; a more general revision of linguistic theory in Great Britain
is
associated with
M. A. K. Halliday,
first
in
London, who developed a number of the strands
Edinburgh and then
in Firth's
in
thought into a
systematic theory of linguistic description at all levels (something that Firth, in the phonology-dominated 1930s and 1940s, had never done). Halliday and those working with him or along lines suggested by him
Chomsky, one must take into account the rise of tagmemic theory, inspired by K. L. Pike, and more recently S. M. Lamb's stratificational theory. These groups of linguists have varied in the extent to which they have retained or rejected various basic concepts of the "Bloomfieldian" period— the phoneme, the morpheme, etc.— but it must never be forgotten that none of their work or their thinking would or could have taken the forms that it has taken but for their own thorough understanding of the linguistics— Saussurean, Trubetzkoian, and "Bloomfieldian"— that had predominated in the preceding decades. Theories do not arise in a vacuum but grow from the reactions of thinkers to the theories and practices with which they have grown up. are sometimes called "Neo-Firthians." In America, besides
Dissatisfaction with the relative neglect of semantics, which, intentionally or not,
had been
a
consequence of Bloomfield's teaching, was being
independently voiced by a number of linguists in the 1950s, among whom Jakobson was prominent. Jakobson had never wholly approved of the extreme theoretical position of distributionalists like Harris, and he had been urging that more attention should be paid to meaning in the grammatical analysis of languages. 37
In fact, during the 1950s anthropologists and some Linguists who were working near ethnographic research had been applying a somewhat Praguean concept of distinctive-feature analysis to certain areas of vocabu-
In particular, the kinship terminologies of various languages rradils lend themselves to this kind of treatment; in English the semantic t
Vol. 22. Vols. 26
GBWW, Vol. 7, pp. 85-114. See GBWW, Vols. 19 and 20. GBWW, Vol. 35.
5
under Language
2).
(GBWW,
Vols. 36
and
37).
Wade
published Paris, 1916; English translation by
Baskin (New \. 7. " Indian linguistic Families of America North of Mexico (Washington, s "l now Harry Hoijcr in Linguistic Structures of Native America, ed. Corneliui Osgood, Viking Fund Publications in Anthropology 6 (New Nik: Viking Fund, 194 iBCf. C. C. Fries, "The B loom field School/ Trends in European and American Lin guistia 1930-1960, ed. Christine Mohrmann, Alf Sommerfelt, and [oshua \\ hatmough 11
Selected Writings
(
i^
l
1
(Utrecht: Spectrum, 1961), pp. 196-224. 16 Cf. Universal and Particular in the Syntopicon,
ChapU
I
96
(CBH
H
Principes de phonologie, pp. 41-46. 'vsapir, "The Psychological Reality ol
\l
17
Phonemes," Selected Writing* and Personality, ed. I). (-. Mandelbaum (Berkeley: University (19 1949), pp. 46-60; "Sound Patterns in Language." Language
in
Langua(
i
California
Culture, Press,
Selected
1
Writings, pp. 33-45 (this article
ment of American
linguistics);
Winston, 1933), chap.
5.
is
considered very
Bloom field, Languagi
(New
importanl N. that is to s \. stand world (Russell calls them atomic particulars) which in the present case are related to one another in that one is north oJ the other; accordingly, just as items a and /; in the proposition stand toi real the fact
>t
for real entities in the
R
particulars in the world, so also the symbol for the real relation that holds
between
Nevertheless, this early realism
ol
which the constituents ol an atomic correspondence with the constituents ism was soon shattered as
a result ol
a
and
analytic
b.
in the
proposition stands
:'
philosophy, according to
proposition Stand in oi
the-
a
corresponding lad
one
to one-
this real-
three quite different and largely inde-
pendent philosophical tendencies which are still very much alive and uncut with us and indeed might even be said to now dominate- thec
philosophical scene.
Philosophy and Ethics
The
of these was a tendency that arose
first
more
or
less
within the con-
developments in formal logic and that, tor want of a better identification, might be associated with the name of Rudolf Carnap.* For one thing, Carnap distinguished between what he called material and formal modes of speech: the former contains expressions that refer to extralinguistic entities, whereas expressions of the latter type refer only to vartext of
ious kinds of linguistic expression.
trained
it
upon
directly
Wheeling up
this distinction,
Carnap
the very foundations of Russell's realism, par-
ticularly upon Russell's contention that the logical structure of any atomic sentence of our language must needs correspond directly to, and even mirror, the structure of the corresponding fact. For example, as we have already noted, in a sentence such as "This is to the left of that," the terms this and that may be taken to refer to extralinguistic entities called
particulars,
and
which might be But Carnap would summarily dis-
to the left of to refer to a real entity,
called simply a relational universal.
miss this entire account as involving a simple confusion of the formal
with the material
mode
of speech. For terms like particular
signify only linguistic expressions tities
at all.
and universal
refer to extralinguistic en-
Consequently, philosophical sentences of the sort "There
exist particulars" call
and do not
or
"There
exist universals"
are
what Carnap would
pseudo-object sentences: they appear to refer to extralinguistic en-
certain kind but really are only syntactical sentences in disguise." Moreover, the upshot of such a critique was that the very foundations of Russell's thoroughgoing realism in logic and philosophy were quite tities of a
On the Carnapian view, the logical structure of propno wise requires the existence of special kinds of extralinentities— e.g., particulars and universals or relations— correspond-
effectively blasted.
ositions in guistic
ing to the structure of the proposition. Quite the contrary, the formation
system— those rules that prescribe what a wellsystem— are entirely a matter of arbitrary choice. "In logic there are no morals," Carnap declared in The Logical Syntax of Language (1934); and, in consequence, countless alternative logics and formal systems can be proliferated almost at will. And if one were then to inquire, "But what is that logical structure that is the proper structure of the world and of the facts in the world?" Carnap's answer would be that the world does not have any logical structure of its own at all. Or, what comes down to the same thing, the facts of the world have rules of a given logical
formed proposition
is
for that
only such a logical structure as we choose to confer upon them. But with this the transcendental it is
232
made and made decisively: we can ever hope to know relative to us and to our human
turn has already been
not the structure of the world in
itself
that
and understand but only its structure ordering schemes and systems of logic. However, the transcendental turn is not only evidenced in the theory of formal logic. A similar development occurred with respect to inductive logic, and this time the name to conjure with is not that of Carnap but
H. B.
book The Logic
of Sir Karl Popper. In his
Veatch and M.
S.
Gram
Popper
of Scientific Discovery,
sought not to solve the problem of induction but rather to break its back. He repudiated induction as a means of scientific discovery. His argument—
and the argument which brought about a transcendental turn in inductive logic— was this: Induction as a logical procedure is indefensible just because any attempt to infer from particular observed cases anything like a properly universal law is an inference which, when cast in syllogistic form, involves a fallacy of
illicit
minor.
And
to
suppose that a
scientific
hypothesis can be verified as a result of events that have been predicted on the basis of that hypothesis
is
to
commit
the fallacy of affirming the
consequent. 8 Instead of induction, Popper
recommended
as the only proper method procedure that has now come to be known as the hypothetico-deductive method. According to this method, one begins by recognizing that the observed facts and regular occurrences in nature
of scientific discovery a
stand in need of explanation. Silver melts at 960. 5°C; the planets are
observed at regularly recurrent positions at regular intervals of time— but
why? What
is
the explanation of such
phenomena? The answei
or discovered in the facts,
it
that
is
since scientific explanations are not the sorts of things that can be
found
must be we ourselves who make up or devise
the relevant explanations. Thus, to cite a classic example, given certain
data as to the observed positions of the planets at different times,
hannes Kepler simply drew upon tion to
come up with
but of an
his
own
fertile
Jo-
mathematical imagina-
the notion of an orbit in the shape, not of a circle,
ellipse, as a possible
be in the various positions
it
explanation of why
had been observed
a
given planet should
to be in at different tin
Moreover, once such an explanatory hypothesis as Kepler's theory of the elliptical orbits of the planets
has been thus devised,
it
is
Popper's con-
tention that the business of the scientific investigator must not be thought to
be one of trying to verify such a hypothesis or of showing that may at such and such a moment of time be observed
given planet
in fat
t
a
to be in
was predicted on the hypothesis of its orbit being No, for such an attempted "verification" of the hypothesis would be but another attempt at induction and would involve once more
just the position that
an
ellipse.
the fallacy of affirming the consequent.
Accordingly, rather than to try to verify the hypothesis, the real business of the scientist,
Popper
thinks,
is
to try
to falsify
it Since there ire
certain deducible consequences from an) hypothesis, the sciential should
concern himself with trying to find out not whether such consequences do occur but rather with whether they do not oo in Foi it a dedu< ible coiu
quencc of fied, and
a hypothesis fails to occur, then the hypothesis falsified
in
accordance with
procedure, not of affirming, but rather
the ol
perfectl)
is
clearly
falsi
impeccable logical
denying the consequent
Popper supposes thai by putting forward this hypothetico-deductive method as the only proper method oi scientific discovery, lie has quite
Philosophy and Ethics
and deftly renouncing the use of induction in science altogether. But what Popper never seems to have realized is that in thus obviating the traditional problem of induction, he is forced, unwillingly and unwittingly, to make the transcendental turn. broken
its
back, by simply
Indeed, there are at least three features of the hypothetico-deductive
method,
make
at least as this
is
expounded by Popper,
that
would appear
to
the transcendental turn quite ineluctable for anyone wishing so to
construe the nature of scientific discovery.
how one
The
first
such feature has to do
an explanatory hypothesis in the first place. For Popper is careful to insist that there is nothing about the observed facts in the case that could be said to make such a hypothesis logically plausible or from which it could be logically inferred. If there were, then the inference could only be an inductive one, and this is the very thing with
that
arrives at such
Popper wishes
to get
away from.
Clearly, then,
if
the
propounding
of
an explanatory hypothesis is in no sense a logical process, or governed in any way by canons of sound reasoning, then it would appear to be more like
an act of
free creation or imaginative
invention— comparable,
say, to
the composition of a symphony or thinking up a plot for a novel.
And
Popper does liken the devising of hypotheses in science to just such things. As soon as one views the matter in this light, scientific hypotheses cease to have the look of genuine accounts of the nature of things, or of the way things are in themselves, and take on instead the cast of just so many ways we human beings have of picturing things to ourselves and of causing them to appear to us, not as they are in themselves, but only as they are relative to us and to the imaginative constructions that we place upon them.
The same
conclusion, moreover,
is
reinforced by the second feature of
Popper's hypothetico-deductive method, which, to put this:
No
explanatory hypothesis or
scientific
regarded as a true statement about what
is
it
bluntly,
is
simply
theory can ever properly be in the world. Indeed, such a
excluded when Popper says that the only way in which a theory can come into contact with the world is by such of its logical consequences as can be falsified. For what this means is that reality can view of a theory
is
view but cannot tell us whether the view we have is really adeit: there can be, in other words, indefinitely many different theories that are capable of generating the same experimental consequences. And if this is so, then we can never know whether any theory that we have is a true description of the world. Thus Popper says that "Theories are our own inventions, our own ideas; they are not forced
reject a
quate to
upon
us,
but are our
self-made instruments of thought." 9
It is true,
Popper goes on in the very next sentence to say that theories can clash with reality and so may be held to be mistaken. But this does not show that any theory can be known to be a true picture of the way the world is. The most it shows is that certain theories are not true pictures of course, that
234
own
H. B.
Veatch and M.
S.
Gram
we can ever know which theory is such a picture; hence, any theory that has not been disconfirmed is as much a statement about the way in which we choose to look at the world as it is about the world. In fact, it can be argued, although Popper is at pains to avoid this conclu-
of reality, not that
any theory we adopt is in part an expression of our determinaone way rather than another. For, after all, if there nothing to decide between a number of competing theories that we
sion, that
tion to view reality in is
have not disconfirmed or falsified, the reason that we decide to adopt one is not dictated by the facts but rather by human
rather than another decision. 10
We
come now
to feature
and
number
three of Popper's account of the logic
knowledge in general. Already we how, in the context of such a method of discovery, explanatory have noted theories in science— and by extension in philosophy as well— are not based on the facts or in any way derived from the facts; rather they represent of scientific discovery
but so
many
different
of scientific
ways of seeing the
facts.
That
is
to say, given a dif-
ferent theory or explanatory hypothesis in either science or philosophy,
the facts themselves will be seen in a different light; indeed, they will even as, and be seen as, different facts. And with this, one would seem compelled to take a step beyond Popper, a step that any number of younger philosophers of science have taken and taken decisively. The step is this. Granted that the facts are seen as being of this character or that, depending upon the particular overall scientific theory or conceptual scheme into which they have been integrated, then it will no longer be possible to have the sort of unequivocal falsification of theories and hypotheses that Popper had envisaged. So-called crucial experiments simply become out of the question. Why? Because the relevant facts will no longei
appear
have an independent character of their own; rather they current expression has
will be, as the
completely "theory laden"; and as such, so
it,
fai
from being able to stand out in conflict with the relevant theory, and so have no features, no nature, no characteristics of any kind save those that have been bestowed upon them by the theory. In short, just as Popper had maintained thai overarching scientific theories were in no wise to be inferred or derived from the fa< ts, to offer evidence of its falsity, they will
so
now
by the
it
would appear that they are not subject to even being falsified As a result, the change from one all-embracing scientific another— say, from the Ptolemaic to the Copernican system is
facts.
theory to
never warranted by evidence that
changes
in the history of science
is
and
logically decisive.
of
be understood simply as "revolutions."
and mode, given at
for
which no
logically
human i
.is
Instead, such sea
culture generall)
radical changes ol
compelling grounds
»>i
.o
|
the like-
would
he-
may, indeed, be the ease- that Hut il it does, then what counts .is
the-
it
ic-suh of the- application of the-
proposition
is
ii
i
ational
is
presupposed
and not certified by the universalizability test. And Hare docs not tell us on what grounds we would defend the irrationality o\ (4). Yel a large clan of ethical judgments is concerned to pronounce desires like that expressed this is so. thru in (4) as unjustified, irrational, or even immoral. \nd a large class of ethical propositions lies outside the scope ol the- univer i!
salizability test. It
is,
accordingly, no accident that other contemporary moral philoso
phers have been dissatisfied both with Hare's account
oi
goodness and
his
Philosophy and Ethics
account of ethical reasoning. As diverse as the alternatives to Hare are, they have one thing in common: they are all attempts to show that there
between ethical predicates and the world than the "Good and Evil," argues that good is used descriptively both in and out of ethical contexts. 45 He undertakes to assimilate the use of good to that of such terms as big and small: such words have a definite sense in each context. Thus good is descriptive, although it functions this way only when used with reference to kinds or classes. And Geach holds, accordingly, that it is a mistake to say, as some previous moral philosophers have said, that because good by itself is not a closer connection
is
transcendental turn claims. P. T. Geach, in
descriptive,
it is
not descriptive at
What Geach wants all
hold
to
is
all.
that the term
good has
a definite sense in
contexts but that the sense changes from context to context. But
would seem
that, in
order to be able to say
this,
Geach would
it
also have
is nothing that is common to all of these contexts. True, major point is that good describes, not alone, but only in the context of some natural kind or other. But while this is true enough— and something that Hare not only admits but accounts for by distinguishing between the meaning and the criteria for the application of a term— the question that Geach does not raise is whether the term that describes only by specification of a context has any sense that is not completely specified by that context. If it has, then he must give an account of what it is. If it lacks such a sense, then Geach would appear to have obliterated Hare's important distinction between describing a thing and saying that it is good. Kurt Baier, in his Moral Point of View, propounds another alternative
to say that there his
to the transcendental turn. 46
Attacking the conclusions that other ethicists have drawn from the descriptive -evaluative distinction, Baier argues that you can verify statements of value in every way in which you can verify descriptive statements. To say, for example, that a is faster than b, while it is
factual, is— in
one
from saying that a is and this requires refer-
respect, at least— no different
better than b: in both cases you are ranking things,
difficulties with ranking from those inside ethics; hence, Baier concludes that ethical claims can have a truth value. Ethical argumentation is not, for Baier, mere persuasion, because there are beliefs that govern ethical reasoning which can be true or false. Baier
ence to a criterion of correct ranking. But the outside of ethics are
no
different
consideration-making
calls these
beliefs,
defining
them
as statements or
reasons for doing something (every such belief takes the form: so because
.
.
."). 47
Such
sentences are
cal justification, for they
meant
"Do
so
and
to restore rationality to ethi-
can function as major premises in ethical argu-
ments (thus making such reasoning deductive) and can be shown to be true or false by some standard. But what is this standard? Baier says that such beliefs can be seen to be true
when
they are seen "to be required
or acceptable from the moral point of view." 48 258
view
is
To
adopt such a point of
to elect only those ends that can be rationally willed by everybody
Veatch and M.
H. B.
S.
Gram
and to which there are no exceptions on grounds of inclination. But this merely perpetuates the problem of the transcendental turn: do we have any reason to reject those ends that, though they meet the restrictions of
would still be counted as immoral ends? Baier's that there are certain fundamental consideration-making beliefs that they are true because those who refuse to adopt them "must even
the moral point of view,
answer
and
is
be said to be mad." 49 But this
move
dental turn by pointing out that
consideration-making beliefs
deny that
this
is
solves the
problem
of the transcen-
advantageous to say that some of the founding one's culture are true. Some would
a solution at
it is
all.
Moral Notions
(1967) represents one such denial. 50 Like him, Kovesi attacks the descriptive-evaluative distinction. But Baier before
Julius Kovesi's
he holds, unlike Baier, that the distinction has been used by philosophers as
an inadequate account of the very different distinction between the
formal and material elements in our use of language. 51 Such elements, so far from being present only in ethical locutions, are to be found in main
we are able, for example, to with very different shapes, sizes, and things good that have very different properties. The ma-
so-called descriptive locutions as well. Just as cite as instances of a table things
colors, so terial
we
call
elements of tables differ widely, while the formal element— that
virtue of
which
point can be
tables are given their
made about
predicates
name— does not like good. And
vary. so,
if
And
we hold
object-words like table can occur in sentences that are true or
in
the same
false,
that
win
should we deny that typically ethical predicates can occur in sentences in exactly the
words: thing,
same way? Moral words, then, are
we we must if
in the
same boat
as other
refuse to say that moral words can be used to describe somealso refuse to say that a host of other
words can be used
in this way.
The
possibility of identifying the formal
enables us, on Kovesi's account, to
make
element in ethical predicates
true statements about what
is
good. But statements about formal elements are, for Kovesi, statements
about functions; and these reduce, on his account, to statements about the
term we use to refer to something. 89 Thai any array of different things can be grouped under one fun< tional des< iption is not, then, the result of something that is in the world but ratlin the result of our linguistic conventions: the objectivity of ethi< al din OU1 K criteria of application of the
I
is
made
tions.
to stand and fall with the public character oi Linguistii convenKovesi can thus say that moral judgments "simpl) are not about
the world." 53
problem problem is insoluble: The strategy is to hope that what has been conceded al one level—thai ethical predicates are not about the world— can be recovered if Wt trans
But
this, so far
from dealing
effectively with the
of the transcendental turn, tacitly concedes that the
late ethical
statements into statements about Language.
There remains another attempt to reverse author of which accepts the presuppositions
the transcendenta] turn, the oi thai
turn but denies that
Philosophy and Ethics
such a turn istic
is
outcome of them. D. H. Monro defends a naturalwhich runs like this: "x is good" is x has a given external characteristic p and (b) p is ap-
the logical
analysis of ethical predicates
equivalent to "(a)
proved (by me or by men in general).""' 4 What distinguishes this version from the usual naturalistic analysis is not the attempt to show that goodness is, after all, analyzable but that we can preserve rationality in approval or disapproval. Monro does this by showing that we can apply the universalizability test to our expressions of approval or disapproval: if anything has properties in virtue of which it is approved or disapproved, anything else having the same properties must also be approved or disapproved. Thus Monro can say that "whenever we express our emotions not merely by grunts, groans, or smiles but by projecting them onto the we do imply that the same emotion will be objects that evoke them roused by similar objects." 55 Monro concludes that expressions of emotion are not unrelated to their objects: just as we cannot consistently apply a predicate to one object and refuse to apply that predicate to other objects having the same properties, so we cannot consistently express approval for one object and withhold approval from anything else having the same .
.
.
,
description.
But alike.
this criterion
Recognizing
can be
this,
satisfied
Monro
by moral and nonmoral approvals
proposes to distinguish distinctively moral
principles from others by claiming that the former are not only univer-
what he calls overriding. To say that a Monro, to say that acting on it takes precedence over acting on any other principle. 56 This may succeed in separating moral from nonmoral principles; but it does not succeed in separating moral from immoral principles. It is still possible, for example, to say that a principle is overriding but immoral. And there is no way, on Monro's account, to justify one rather than another overriding principle except to say that it expresses something beyond which there is nowhere else to go. And the consequence would seem to follow that Monro has introduced no more ultimate rationality into ethical deliberation than Stevenson, Hare, Baier, Geach, and Kovesi before him: what he has shown
salizable but also that they are
principle
is
that
And
overriding
we cannot
this
is,
for
give or withhold expression of approval inconsistently.
does not prevent us from rationally approving of anything at
long as the approval we express is consistent. This also aligns Monro with those with whom he professes to disagree. For all the ethicists we have been considering so far have, each in his separate way, been attempting to restore a descriptive content to ethical predicates and thus to show that there is an ontological foundation for attributing a predicate like goodness to something. But the way in which this is done leaves it an open question whether there is, after all, any such foundation for the application of ethical predicates. For whether you call it a fundamental moral belief, a decision of principle, a considerationmaking belief, or an overriding principle, the problem that confronts all all so
260
is
H. B.
Veatch and M.
S.
Gram
is the same: we are not given a reason for condemning some principles that most or all men would condemn as immoral so long as the principles under consideration are consistently held. Perhaps this is too much to ask of moral philosophy. But if it is, then it should be admitted that the moral decisions we make are somehow ultimately ir-
of these solutions
rational, because
we cannot
rationally
contrary decision so long as they hold to
The transcendental
turn
condemn people who make it
the
consistently. 57
and phenomenological-existentialist ethics
In turning to a consideration of recent developments in ethics within the context of contemporary phenomenology and existentialism, one can
hardly
fail to
be struck by the fact that while philosophers of this per-
suasion are forever given to
making
ethical judgments, they are scarcely
ever given to writing about ethics. Neither Heidegger nor Sartre nor
Merleau-Ponty— to mention only the more obvious "greats" in sophical tradition— has ever written an ethics.
Nor
is
it
this philo-
generally agreed
down the very principles for an ethics, which might then someday eventually develop. True, Heidegger, as is well known, distinguishes between authentic and inauthentic existence. 58 Sartre, in his novels and plays, as well as in his articles, and even in Being and Nothingness, does not hesitate to satirize various modes and that they have even laid their followers
human behavior, castigating this person for being a "coward," one for being a "stinker," 59 another for being a "serious man," and all for being "in bad faith." Besides, both Sartre and Merleau-Ponty have engaged in no end of political discussion, pouring out streams of articles, pamphlets, and even books of polemics against the enormities of capitalism and bourgeois society generally, as well as against historical Marxism, particularly that form of it to which the dirty label of "Stalinist" might be attached. 60 But why in all of this has there never appeared anything that these philosophers would themselves claim was an ethics? Or why have not more of their followers undertaken to supply what would seem to be such an obvious lack on the part of their masters? 61 The answer, we believe, is to be found in that peculiar kind of transcendental philosophy that is so much a part of the warp and woof of contemporary phenomenology and existentialism. And by way of illustration, let us consider just briefly a certain seeming sort of ethical investigation that one not infrequently finds undertaken in the context of phenomenology of the stricter and less existentialist variety. Such investigations might be loosely characterized as aiming at what one might call a phenomenology of values, or "a phenomenology of moral experience." • Alter all, there is no denying that in the experience of human beings things do appear to us, at least under certain tin umstani es and in ertain ontexts, as being morally colored, shall we say. Thus, in our awareness ol most natural phenomena, such as that of water flowing downhill, lor example. types of
that
c
c
261
Philosophy and Ethics
hardly the case that we experience this as being in any way right or wrong, or good or bad. But that the Soviet armies should move into Czechoslovakia, or that certain personal friends or associates should be it is
found
to
be secretly conniving to defame us or undermine our reputaUnited States should be maintaining a presence in Viet-
tions, or that the
nam—these as
are things that
morally colored,
as reprehensible or
we cannot very
well avoid experiencing save
as defensible or indefensible, or as
i.e.,
commendable,
etc.
noble or
vile,
Accordingly, given the fact that
human experience things do appear or present themmorally neutral but as morally colored, the phenome-
in certain reaches of
selves to us not as
nologist can rightly claim that these ways of appearing that things have in so-called
moral experience are
phenomenological de-
just as deserving of
scription as are the ways of appearing that things have in aesthetic ex-
perience, or in the experience of everyday
life,
or in scientific experience,
or in religious experience or whatnot.
Unfortunately, however justified the phenomenologist
may be
in thus
seeking to provide a phenomenological description of moral experience,
and indeed of the entire range of value phenomena, such an undertaking is still far from being an ethics. It is one thing to know that things do in fact appear to us under the guise of good or bad or of right or wrong, etc.; it is another thing to recognize that such distinctions have some sort of a real basis, which not only justifies us but even obligates us to observe them and abide by them in our day-by-day conduct and behavior. Moreover, it is
precisely the latter sort of concern, rather than the former, that
proper business of
ethics.
the transcendental turn, can only find
beyond the phenomena given
up any and
But what about the
it
difficult if
of ethics to the reality.
for the fact that in recent years pure
much
is
Accordingly, the phenomenologist, having
all
And
the
made
not impossible to get
doubtless this accounts
phenomenologists seem to have pretty
attempts at developing an ethics.
existentialists?
For we have already noted in our
discussion of the contemporary situation in philosophy generally that pure
phenomenology has in recent years often given place to a phenomenology mixed with existentialism. What, then, is one to say about ethics in the context of such a phenomenology-cum-existentialism?
might be recalled how in our foregoing discussion of contemporary philosophy in general, it was pointed out that the characteristic influence of existentialism on those who make the transcendental turn is to shift the seat or locus of the transcendental activity of "world constitution" to the individual human subject. So, likewise, when it comes to Again,
it
it would not be inaccurate to say that the effect of the existentialist ferment in phenomenology has been to regard that moral coloration, which our human experience in certain of its reaches does indeed have,
ethics,
as
being something that the individual
things 262
and
create our
is
own
values; and, as
human
That Sartre and
himself responsible
for.
subject has bestowed
is
to say,
so
many
we human
upon
beings
other existentialist
H. B.
writers
would have
What
then,
is
it,
in so doing,
man
Veatch and M.
S.
Gram
creates himself.
the import of this characteristic existentialist move, so far
as the rehabilitation of ethics
is
concerned?
Initially, of course,
it
is
only
phenomenology makes the transcendental turn does pure phenomenology: values, moral distinctions, stanthan
too clear that existential
no
less
dards of conduct are held not to pertain to things as they are in themselves
but only to things as they appear to
us.
At the same time, the
existentialist has in effect shifted the locus or center of ethical
concern
and in the world to the human subject who creates such values and bestows them upon things, and who is thus responsible for the sense and meaning that things come to have for him, but which they do not have just in themselves. from what we might
call values in things
very crudely, it is as if the existentialist were saying that it no importance to ethics whether a certain social order, let us say, which men have come to regard as being just, is really just or not; or whether a certain way of life or pattern of behavior, which men have come to esteem, is really estimable or not. No, what matters ethically, and all that matters ethically, are the human decisions and resolves, as a result of which certain ways of life or institutions of society have taken on the value and significance that they have. For what of the human choices and decisions and commitments that were the sources of such estimates and evaluations: were they authentic, were they genuine, were they what they should have been? These are the only properly ethical questions, as the existentialists see it, questions that have their point and locus simply with reference to the human subject in his choices, his decisions, and his evalua-
Putting
really
is
it
of
tive activity generally.
And how would tions are to be
the existentialists say that such properly ethical ques-
answered? After
all,
in
much
of traditional ethics,
it is
sup-
posed that in order that a man's choices and decisions be the right ones, he
must first know what the good is, and what he as a human being ought to do and be, and how he should conduct himself. Not so, though, the existentialists. Instead, they would repudiate the whole idea of knowledge as being a guide to action. For such an idea makes for an ethics of the type known as that of "the serious man," a type that has been repeatedly satirized in existentialist literature, beginning with Kierkegaard and coming down to Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. For the serious man is said to be just such a one as must first know what course of action he ought to take before deciding to take
and decisions on anything
it.
Yet thus to
try to base one's ethical choices
knowledge and understanding is, the exiswould say, at once ridiculous and wrongheaded. It is wrongheaded because there simply can be no objective knowledge of what is really right or wrong, or good or bad: these are distinctions that we ourselves create, and hence they are not distinctions thai are alread) there and, as it were, simply waiting to be known. Indeed, the transcendental turn in existentialist ethics precludes any knowledge of li s sort. But. also, like
tentialist
1
1
263
Philosophy and Ethics
the serious man's procedure
is
as ridiculous as
it
is
wrongheaded. For
as
Kierkegaard so amusingly observes:
The
serious
with respect
man to
continues: If he were able to obtain certainty
he would venture everything for
wag; it is clear enough that raw recruit who takes a run
like a
the
and
the water,
When it
its
sake.
in preparation for
actually takes the run
the certainty
mean
know that it is really there, The serious man speaks he wishes to make fools of us like
such a good, so as to
to venture?
is
and
there he will venture
A
venture
is
jumping
into
gives the leap a go-by. all.
But what then does
the precise correlative of an un-
when the certainty is there the venture becomes impossiour serious man acquires the definite certainty that he seeks he will be unable to venture all; for even if he gives up everything, he will under such circumstances venture nothing— and if he does
certainty; ble. If
not get certainty, our serious ture of our serious
hope but
no
And
to gain in
man
man becomes
venturing
is
so at last
existentialist,
it
hold the pear in
merely a
itself certain, I
make an exchange. Thus
risk if I
says in all earnest that he refuses
would be madness. In
to risk anything, since that
in giving
my hand
this
way
the ven-
false alarm. If
do not
what
I
risk or venture,
an apple for a pear,
I
run
while making the exchange. 63
begins to emerge just what
it is
that, in the eyes of the
guarantees the genuineness and authenticity of our choices
decisions. It is not that they are made in the light of knowledge and understanding but rather that they are made at a risk and as a venture, precisely in the absence of knowledge. Nor is this really to say any more than that such authentic choices are free choices, in the existentialist sense of freedom. For if there are no objectively based guidelines for human life and existence, no values or obligations written into the very nature of
and
things, then assuredly it,
cisions
264
man
is
free,
and
free precisely in the sense, as Sartre
is to say, in making deand choices man has nothing to appeal to, nothing that he can fall back on for guidance, nothing that he can turn to by way of finding out what he should do and be or how he should conduct himself. Instead, he must simply decide, and decide in a full awareness of the sheer and total risk that he is running, there being no principles or maxims of any kind that can serve him either by way of guidance or of justification. Likewise, he must decide, and decide in full awareness of his own sole and absolute responsibility for his decisions. After all, there being no things "twixt heaven and earth," or even in heaven or earth, that a man can even dream of appealing to for support or guidance in such a philosophy, 65 it follows that a man's decisions are entirely his own, and decisions for which no one other than he himself is responsible. In summary, then, may not one say that existentialist ethics amounts
puts
of being
"condemned
to
be free." 64 That
H. B.
to
but
little
What one chooses, so
much
more than an freely
and
S.
Gram
and authentic choices? moment, but only how one
ethics that calls for free
chooses would appear to be of no
viz.,
Veatch and M.
authentically.
As Kierkegaard puts
it,
"it is
not
a question of choosing the right as of the energy, the earnestness,
which one chooses ... it is not yet a question of the choice something in particular, it is not a question of the reality of the thing chosen, but of the reality of the act of choice." 68 But what is this, then, if not seemingly an ethics almost without content, an ethics whose one ultimate imperative is simply the imperative to be free? And if, indeed, this is the case, then it is little wonder that the socalled existential phenomenologists should have traditionally been so ready with ethical pronouncements and yet so chary about ever discussing ethics. Nevertheless, just in the last two or three years, in this country at least, there would appear to be a slight change in this respect. For there have appeared two books, as well as an occasional article or two, which, although they are not impressive as to quantity, are very much so as regards quality, and which do address themselves directly to questions of existentialist ethics. As to the books, the one by Hazel Barnes, entitled An Existentialist Ethics (1967), and the other by Frederick A. Olafson, the pathos with
of
and Persons: An Ethical Interpretation
entitled Principles
of Existential-
ism (1967), 87 they do not profess to present systems of existentialist ethics (as if there could be any such thing), so much as apologiae designed to
show that there
is
an
existentialist ethics after all.
character of these books,
summarize three to
make
of the stock difficulties that
of existentialism an ethics
books addresses
The
1.
we perhaps could not do seem
and then
To
give a taste of the
better than simply to
any attempt which of these
to attach to
to indicate
itself to these issues.
first difficulty
might be stated thus: On what grounds does the he places on freedom itself? For, having
existentialist justify the value that
made
the transcendental turn, the existentialist then insists that the things
and happenings of the world are neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong, in themselves. Rather such is but the way things sometimes present Moreover, the reason they thus make their appearances to us under this guise of value is because we human beings freely bestow such values upon them. And yet what about this very freedom itself, this very power to bestow a significance and importance upon things? Is that something whose value itself comes from themselves to us or appear to
this if
same freedom
to
us.
bestow value?
If so,
then
it
would begin
to look as
somehow trying to other hand, if our own human
the entire existentialist account of value were
itself
dom
by is
its
own
bootstraps.
On
the
hoist free-
not something that we give value to but rather something that has
value in
itself
and absolutely and compromising
to involve a serious
in
its
own
right,
then this would seem
of the transcendental turn
itself,
to say
nothing of being inconsistent with the entire existentialist account of how values arise in the world.
265
Philosophy and Ethics
Now
it
is
among others, that Professor Barnes how successfully she meets the difficomment. And yet one wonders if she may not
to just this difficulty,
addresses herself in her book. As to culty,
we do not propose
to
be found to have defended an ethics of freedom only by inadvertently turning the supposedly free man into a type very much like that of Kierkegaard's serious
man.
human
freedom, by which as men we are said to make ourfreedom which in the final analysis is subject to no norms or standards, save such as are of our own free invention and manufacture, or if in our free choices what is ethically relevant is not what we choose but rather simply that we choose and choose freely, then will this not make for a complete and utter relativism in ethics? After all, considered with respect to the content of our choices, it would appear to make not the slightest difference whether one's choice be for the way of life of a Hitler or for that of a St. Francis; rather, all that would matter presumably would be "the energy, the earnestness, the pathos with which one chooses." With respect to this issue and its attempted resolution from the standpoint of existentialist ethics, the reader might be referred, not so much to either of the two books just mentioned, but rather to a very interesting article by John Wild, entitled "Authentic Existence: A New Approach to " 'Value Theory.' 68 Again, in Wild's case, no less than in that of Barnes, one wonders whether in his efforts to free existentialist ethics from the charge of relativism, Wild may not have had to fall back on an appeal to our common human nature as men, a tactic which smacks rather of the ethics of the serious man than of that of existentialism. 3. Finally, if in an existentialist ethics, that which is held to be of supreme value for a human being is no more and no less than one's own 2.
If that
selves, is a
free, subjective commitment to one's freely chosen goals, as well as one's continued affirmation and vindication of that same freedom of oneself, then why should anyone have the slightest regard for the needs and interests of other human beings? What possible obligations can a man have to
human
To
beings other than himself?
this issue in
regard to existentialist ethics Olafson addresses himself
some of his most effectively argued pages. What he suggests is that Sartre and others, in making their enigmatic pronouncements to the effect that "in choosing myself I choose man," may really be appealing to the principle of the so-called universalizability of moral judgments which, as we have already noted, is a marked feature of much recent ethics in the analytic tradition. Indeed, Olafson's whole book is directed toward showing how, despite great differences in language and terminology, some of in
many of those of recent analytic ethics. Need we add that our own concluding comment would be that such a parallelism is ultimately traceable to that common partiality the leading ideas of existentialist ethics parallel
266
of both of these schools for the transcendental turn in philosophy?
H. B.
Veatch and M.
S.
Gram
1 This limitation means that we must leave out of account a number of contemporary philosophical activities which have had a certain popular appeal, but little effect on academic philosophy— e.g., the work of Herbert Marcuse, Teilhard de Chardin, the partisans of "situation ethics," etc. We shall further limit ourselves by not discussing sur-
veys of the literature as, for example, William K. Frankena's "Ethics," in Philosophy in
the Mid-Century, 4 vols., ed. Raymond Klibansky (Firenze: Nuova Italia, 1958), 3: 42 ff.; Geoffrey Warnock's Contemporary Moral Philosophy (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1967); and Mary Warnock's Existentialist Ethics (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1967). 2 An exception might be the new development of so-called structuralism in French philosophy, as represented by such thinkers as Levi-Strauss and Louis Althusser. 3 It might be remarked that of those comparatively few contemporary tendencies in American philosophy that are not marked by the transcendental turn at all, many are
pre-Kantian or even anti-Kantian in their philosophical allegiances. Two which display a predominantly Aristotelian or Thomistic realism in philosophy, as contrasted with a more Kantian type of transcendentalism, are An Interpretation of Existence by Joseph Owens (Milwaukee, Wis.: Bruce Publishing Co., 1968), and Two Logics: The Conflict Between Classical and Neo-Analytic Philosophy by Henry Veatch (Evanston, 111.: Northwestern University Press, 1969). 4 Cf. G. E. Moore, "Proof of an External World," British Academy Proceedings, vol. 25 (1939), pp. 273-300; also "A Defense of Common Sense," in Contemporary British Philosophy (second series), ed. J. H. Muirhead (London: The Macmillan Co., 1926), pp. explicitly
recent books, for instance,
193-223.
Bertrand Russell, "The Philosophy of Logical Atomism," in Logic and KnowlMarsh (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1956), pp. 177-281. This Russellian program of logical atomism has been continued and brilliantly developed by Gustav Bergmann. See Meaning and Existence (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1960), Logic and Reality (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1964), and Realism (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967). The work of Professor Bergmann and his school constitutes a notable exception to the philosophical developments that we are about to describe under the heading of the transcendental turn. 6Cf. The Logical Syntax of Language, trans. Amethe Smeaton (Paterson, N.J.: Littlefield, Adams & Co., 1959), esp. pp. 284 ff. i Ibid., pp. 297-99. For a parallel line of argument, see Gilbert Ryle's "Systematically Misleading Expressions," in Essays on Logic and Language (first series), ed. Antony Flew (Oxford: Basil Blackwell & Mott, 1951). 8 Karl R. Popper, The Logic of Scientific Discovery (New York: Sciences Editions, 1961), pp. 59 ff. Cf. N. R. Hanson, Patterns of Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni5 Cf.
edge, ed. Robert C.
versity Press, 1958), for a similar view.
Conjectures and Refutations (New York: Basic Books, 1962), p. 117. This view of change in scientific theories has been worked out historically by Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). For the broader metaphysical implications of this view of theory construction, see Wilfrid Sellars, Science, Perception and Reality (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1963), and Philosophical Perspectives (Springfield, 111.: Charles C. Thomas, 9
10
Publishers, 1967).
See Philosophical Studies (Paterson, N.J.: Littlefield, Adams & Co., 1959). Reprinted in Ordinary Language, ed. V. C. Chappell (Englewood Cliffs, Prentice-Hall, 1964), pp. 5-23. 11 12
N.J.:
13 These examples are taken from P. H. Nowell-Smith, Ethics (Baltimore, Md.: Pen guin Books, 1954), p. 70. 14 See Benson Mates, "On the Verification of Statements About Ordinary .111411.141 in Chappell, op. cit., pp. 64-74; and Stanley Cavell, "Must We Mean What \\ S in Chappell, pp. 75-112. 1
\ analogy. The example leads to the formulation of a rule through generalization *
See
J. S. Mill,
Utilitarianism;
ClilVW, Vol.
43, pp. 443
IT.
293
The
New
Rhetoric
from a particular cast- or through putting a new case on the same footing an older one. Illustration aims at achieving presence for a rule by illustrating it with a concrete case. The argument from a model justifies an action by showing that it conforms to a model. One should also mention the argument from an antimodel; lor example, the drunken Helot as
to
whom
the Spartans referred as a foil to
show
their sons
how
they should
not behave. In the various religions,
God and
divine or quasi-divine persons
all
are obviously preeminent models for their believers. Christian morality
can be defined as the imitation of Christ, whereas Buddhist morality
Buddha. The models that a culture proposes
consists in imitating
members
for imitation provide a convenient
The argument from
analogy
is
way
extremely important in nonformal rea-
soning. Starting from a relation between two terms call the
theme
since
to its
of characterizing it.™
A and
B, which
we
provides the proper subject matter of the discourse,
it
we can by analogy present its structure or establish its value by relating it to the terms C and D, which constitute the phoros of the analogy, so that A is to B as C is to D. Analogy, which derives its name from the Greek word for proportion, is nevertheless different from mathematical proportion. In the latter the characteristic relation of equality
whereas the phoros called upon
metrical,
establish the value of the
theme.
When
as a child
is
theme must,
to
as a rule,
clarify
an adult,
it is
sym-
be better known than the
Heraclitus says that in the eyes of
in the eyes of
is
the structure or
God man
is
as childish
impossible to change the phoros
one that knows the and an adult. It is also worth noting that when man is identified with adult, the analogy reduces to three terms, the middle one being repeated twice: C is to B as B is to A This technique of argumentation is typical of Plato,
for the theme,
and
vice versa, unless the audience
God and man
relationship between
is
better than that between a child
.
Plotinus,
and
all
those
Within the natural the intent
is
who
establish hierarchies within reality.
sciences the use of analogy
is
mainly
heuristic,
ultimately to eliminate the analogy and replace
it
and
with a
formula of a mathematical type. Things are different, however, in the social sciences and in philosophy, where the whole body of facts under study only offers reasons for or against a particular analogical vision of things. 34
which Wilhelm Dilthey refers when he claims that the natural sciences aim at explaining whereas the This
is
one of the differences
human sciences seek The metaphor is
294
to
for understanding.
the figure of style corresponding to the argument from analogy. It consists of a condensed analogy in which one term of the theme is associated with one term of the phoros. Thus "the morning of life" is a metaphor that summarizes the analogy: Morning is to day what youth is to life. Of course, in the case of a good many metaphors, the reconstruction of the complete analogy is neither easy nor unambiguous. When Berkeley, in his Dialogues* 7 speaks of "an ocean of false learning," *
Chaim Perelman there are various ways to supply the missing terms of the analogy, each one of
which
stresses a different relation
unexpressed in the metaphor.
and metaphors best reveals the creative and litThe For some audiences their use should be argumentation. erary aspects of avoided as much as possible, whereas for others the lack of them may make the discourse appear too technical and too difficult to follow. Specialists tend to hold analogies in suspicion and use them only to initiate students into their discipline. Scientific popularization makes extensive use of analogy, and only from time to time will the audience be reminded of the danger of identification of theme and phoros. 36 use of analogies
The dissociation
of ideas
Besides argumentative associations,
we must
also
make room
for the dis-
sociation of ideas, the study of
which
torical tradition. Dissociation
the classical solution for incompatibilities
is
is
too often neglected by the rhe-
an alteration of conventional ways of thinking. Philosophers, by using dissociation, often depart from common sense and form a vision of reality that is free from the contradictions of opinion. 37 The whole of the great metaphysical tradition, from Parmenides to our own day, displays a succession of dissociations where, in each case, reality is opposed that call for
to
appearance.
Normally, reality signs referring to
it.
is
perceived through appearances that are taken as
When, however, appearances
are incompatible— an
oar in water looks broken but feels straight to the touch— we must admit, if
we
are to have a coherent picture of reality, that
illusory
and may lead us
some appearances are
to error regarding the real.
One
is
thus brought
conception of reality that at the same time
is
capable of being used as a criterion for judging appearances. Whatever
is
to the construction of a
conformable to value and
Any
is
it
is
given value, whereas whatever
is
opposed
is
denied
considered a mere appearance.
idea can be subjected to a similar dissociation.
To
real justice
we can oppose apparent
justice and with real democracy contrast apparent democracy, or formal or nominal democracy, or quasi democracy,
or even "democracy" (in quotes).
What
is
thus referred to as apparent
what the audience would normally call justice, democracy, etc. It only becomes apparent after the criterion of real justice or real democracy has been applied to it and reveals the error concealed under the name. The dissociation results in a depreciation of what had until then been an accepted value and in its replacement by another conception to which is accorded the original value. To effect such a depreciation, one will need a conception that can be shown to be valuable, relevant, as well as incompatible with the common use of the same notion.
is
usually
We may
call
"philosophical pairs"
all sets
of notions that are formed
295
The
New
Rhetoric
on the model of the "appearance-reality" pair. The use of such pairs makes clear how philosophical ideas are developed and also shows how they cannot be dissociated from the process of giving or denying value that is typical of all ontologies. One thus comes to see the importance of argumentative devices in the development of thought, and especially of philosophy. 38
Interaction of
arguments
An
argumentation is ordinarily a spoken or written discourse, of variable that combines a great number of arguments with the aim of winning the adherence of an audience to one or more theses. These arguments interact within the minds of the audience, reinforcing or weakening each other. They also interact with the arguments of the opponents as well as with those that arise spontaneously in the minds of the audience. This situation gives rise to a number of theoretical length,
questions.
Are there
limits, for
example, to the number of arguments that can be
Does the choice of arguments and the scope of What is a weak or an irrelevant argument? What is the effect of a weak argument on the whole argumentation? Are there any criteria for assessing the strength or relevance of an argument? Are such matters relative to the audience, or can they be determined objectively? We have no general answer to such questions. The answer seems to depend on the field of study and on the philosophy that controls its organization. In any case, they are questions that have seldom been raised and that never have received a satisfactory answer. Before any satisfactory answer can be given, it will be necessary to make many detailed studies in the various disciplines, taking account of the most varied audiences. Once our arguments have been formulated, does it make any difference what order they are presented in? Should one start, or finish, with strong arguments, or do both by putting the weaker arguments in the middle— the so-called Nestorian order? This way of presenting the problem implies that the force of an argument is independent of its place in the discourse. Yet, in fact, the opposite seems to be true, for what appears as a weak argument to one audience often appears as a strong argument to another, depending on whether the presuppositions rejected by one audience are accepted by the other. Should we present our arguments then in the order that lends them the greatest force? If so, there should be a special technique devoted to the organization of a discourse. Such a technique would have to point out that an exordium is allimportant in some cases, while in others it is entirely superfluous. Sometimes the objections of one's opponent ought to be anticipated beforehand usefully accumulated?
the argumentation raise special problems?
296
Chaim Perelman
and refuted, whereas in other spontaneously lest one appear In
such matters
all
it
cases to
better to let the objections arise
it is
down
be tearing
straw men. 39
seems unlikely that any hard-and-fast rules can
be laid down, since one must take account of the particular character of the audience, of
its
evolution during the debate, and of the fact that
habits
and procedures that prove good
other.
A
once for stances,
must be able matters, and audiences. all.
But
Reason and
The ideas
in
one sphere are no good in an-
general rhetoric cannot be fixed by precepts and rules laid to
adapt
itself to
down
the most varied circum-
rhetoric
birth of a
and and
it
new period
of culture
is
marked by an eruption of original and of academic classifica-
a neglect of methodological concerns
with various meanings that the future and disentangle. The fundamental ideas of Greek philosophy offer a good example of this process. One of the richest and most confused of all is that expressed by the term logos, which means among other things: word, reason, discourse, reasoning, calculation, and all that was later to become the subject of logic and the expression of reason. Reason was opposed to desire and the passions, being regarded as the faculty that ought to govern human behavior in the name of truth and tions
divisions. Ideas are used
will distinguish
wisdom.
The
operation of logos takes effect either through long speeches
or through questions
and answers, thus giving
noted above between rhetoric and lished as
an autonomous
dialectic,
rise
to
the distinction
even before logic was estab-
discipline.
and his development of the theory problem of the relation of syllogistic formal logic— with dialectic and rhetoric. Can any and every
Aristotle's discovery of the syllogism
of demonstrative science raised the
—the first form of reasoning be expressed syllogistically? Aristotle is often thought to have aimed at such a result, at least for deductive reasoning, since he was well aware that inductive reasoning and argument by example are entirely different from deduction. He knew too that the dialectical reasoning characteristic of discussion, and essentially critical in purpose, differed widely from demonstrative reasoning deducing from principles the conclusions of a science. Yet he was content to locate the difference in the kind of premises used in the two cases. In analytical, or demonstrative, reasoning, the premises, according to Aristotle, are true and ultimate, or else derived from such premises, whereas in dialectical reasoning the premises consist of generally accepted opinions. cases
The
was held to be the same, consisting
nature of reasoning in
in
both
drawing conclusions from
propositions posited as premises.*
*
Topics
I.
100a 25-32;
GBWW,
Vol.
8, p. 143.
297
The
New
Rhetoric
Rhetoric, on the other hand, was supposed to use syllogisms in a pe-
some premises unexpressed and so transforming them into enthymemes. The orator, as Aristotle saw, could not be said to use regular syllogisms; hence, his reasoning was said to consist of abbreviated syllogisms and of arguments from example, corresponding to
culiar way, by leaving
induction.
What
are
we
to think of this reduction to
the wide variety of arguments that
men
two forms of reasoning of all and in
use in their discussions
pleading a cause or justifying an action? Yet, since the time of Aristotle, logic has confined
its
study to deductive and inductive reasoning, as
though any argument differing from these was due to the variety of its content and not to its form. As a result, an argument that cannot be reduced to canonical form is regarded as logically valueless. What then about reasoning from analogy? What about the a fortiori argument?
Must we, rive
in using such arguments, always be able to introduce a De-
unexpressed major premise, so as to make them conform to the
syllogism? It
can be show^n that the practical reasoning involved in choice or
making can always be expressed
form of theoretical reais gained by such a move? The reasoning by which new premises are introduced is merely concealed, and resort to these premises appears entirely arbitrary, although in reality it too is the outcome of a decision that can be justified only in an argumentative, and not in a demonstrative, manner. 40 At first sight, it appears that the main difference between rhetoric and dialectic, according to Aristotle, is that the latter employs impersonal techniques of reasoning, whereas rhetoric relies on the orator's ethos (or character) and on the manner in which he appeals to the passions of his audience (or pathos).* 41 For Aristotle, however, the logos or use of reasoning is the main thing, and he criticizes those authors before him, who laid the emphasis upon oratorical devices designed to arouse the passions. Thus he writes:
decision
in the
soning by introducing additional premises. But what
// the rules for trials
which are now
laid
down
in
some states—
especially in well-governed states— were applied everywhere, such
people would have nothing
to say. All
men, no doubt, think that
the laws should prescribe such rules, but some, as in the court of
Areopagus, give practical
effect to their
thoughts and forbid talk
about non-essentials. This is sound law and custom. It is not right to pervert the judge by moving him to anger or envy or pity— one might as well warp a carpenter's rule before using it. For 298
this reason, after a
long discussion devoted to the role of passion in
oratorical art, he concludes:
Chaim Perelman
As to
a matter of fact, it,
To sum
as
up,
we it
it
[rhetoric]
is
a branch of dialectic
and similar
said at the outset.]
appears that Aristotle's conception, which
is
essentially
empirical and based on the analysis of the material he had at his disposal, distinguishes dialectic from rhetoric only by the type of audience and, especially,
by the nature of the questions examined in practice. His pre-
cepts are easy to understand
when we keep
in
mind
that he was thinking
primarily of the debates held before assemblies of citizens gathered
to-
gether either to deliberate on political or legal matters or to celebrate
some public ceremony. There also
consider
no reason, however, why we should not
is
and,
theoretical
especially,
questions
philosophical
ex-
pounded in unbroken discourse. In this case, the techniques Aristotle would have presumably recommended would be those he himself used in his
own work,
Nicomachean
following the golden rule that he laid that the
Ethics,
method used
for
down
in his
the examination
and
exposition of each particular subject must be appropriate to the matter,
whatever
its
manner
of presentation.:):
After Aristotle, dialectic
became
identified with logic as a technique
of reasoning, due to the influence of the Stoics. As a result, rhetoric
came
be regarded as concerned only with the irrational parts of our being,
to
whether sure.
role
will, the passions,
Those who, was
like
to bring
when they used
man
it,
imagination, or the faculty for aesthetic plea-
Seneca and Epictetus, believed that the philosopher's to
submit to reason were opposed
in the
name
of philosophy.
Those
to rhetoric,
like Cicero,
even
on the
other hand, who thought that in order to induce man to submit to reason one had to have recourse to rhetoric, recommended the union of philosophy and eloquence. The thinkers of the Renaissance followed suit, such as Valla, and Bacon too, who expected rhetoric to act on the imagination
triumph of reason.
to secure the
The more
rationalist thinkers, like
Ramus,
as
we have
already noted,
considered rhetoric as merely an ornament and insisted on a separation
form and content, the
of
latter
alone being thought worthy of a phi-
same conception and reinmethod as the only method fit regarded the geometrical for the sciences as well as for philosophy and opposed rhetoric as exerting an action upon the will contrary to reason— thus adopting the position of the Stoics but with a different methodological justification. But to make room for eloquence within this scheme, we need only deny thai reason possesses a monopoly of the approved way of influencing the will. Thus,
losopher's attention. Descartes adopted the
forced
it.
He
Pascal, while professing a rationalism in a Cartesian
»
Rhetoric Rhetoric
t
Ethics
*
I.
GBWW,
1356a 5-18; Vol. 9, p. 595. 1354a 19-27, 1356a 80 SI; Vol. 1094b 12-27; Vol. 9, pp. 339-40. I.
manner, does not
GBWW,
I.
GBWW,
9,
pp, 593. 595 96.
299
The
New
Rhetoric
hesitate to declare that the truths that are is,
most significant
him— that
for
the truths of faith— have to be received by the heart before they can
be accepted by reason:
We
all
know
that opinions are admitted into the soul through
two entrances, which are
The more
its
natural entrance
and will. we should but the more
chief powers, understanding is
the understanding, for
never agree to anything but demonstrated truths, usual entrance, although against nature,
is
men
the will; for all
whatsoever are almost always led into belief not because a thing is proved but because it is pleasing. This way is low, unworthy, and foreign to our nature. Therefore everybody disavows professes to give his belief
and even
his love only
it. Each of us where he knows
deserved.
it is
am
I
not speaking here of divine truths, which I
am
far
from
bringing under the art of persuasion, for they are infinitely above nature. God alone can put them into the soul, and in whatever way
He
know He
pleases. I
has willed they should enter into the
from the heart and not into the heart from the mind, * might make humble that proud power of reason. persuade about divine matters, grace
is
necessary;
us love that which religion orders us to love. Yet
it
is
He
.
.
To
mind
that
will
it
make
also Pascal's in-
tention to conduce to this result by his eloquence, although he has admit that he can lay down the precepts of this eloquence only in
to
a
very general way:
It
is
apparent
that,
no matter what we wish
to
persuade
we must we must and then
of,
mind and
heart
know, what principles he admits, what things he
loves,
consider the person concerned, whose
observe in the thing in question what relations
it
admitted principles or
So that the art
to these objects of delight.
of persuasion consists as
knowing how
has to these
much in knowing how to please as in much more do men follow caprice
to convince, so
than reason.
Now
of these two, the art of convincing
and the
art of pleasing,
I shall confine myself here to the rules of the first,
and
to
them
only in the case where the principles have been granted and arc
held to unwaveringly; otherwise I do not
would be an
know whether
there
art for adjusting the proofs to the inconstancy of our
caprices.
But the art of pleasing is incomparably more difficult, more more useful, and more wonderful, and therefore if I do
subtle,
300
not deal with
it,
it is
because I
am
not able. Indeed I feel myself
Chaim Perelman
unequal
so
to
its
regulation
that
I
believe
to
it
be a
thing
impossible.
Not
that I
do not believe there are as certain rules for pleasing
as
for demonstrating, and that whoever should be able perfectly to know and to practise them would be as certain to succeed in mak-
ing himself loved by kings and by every kind of person as in demonstrating the elements of geometry to those who have imagination
enough
But
to grasp the hypotheses.
my weakness
that leads
me
I consider,
to think so, that
it is
and
it
is
perhaps
impossible to lay
hold of the rules.] Pascal's reaction here with regard to formal rules of rhetoric already
heralds romanticism with
its
reverence for the great orator's genius. But
before romanticism held sway, associationist psychology developed in
eighteenth-century England. According to the thinkers of this school, feeling,
not reason, determines man's behavior, and books on rhetoric
were written based on this psychology. The best known of these is Campbell's The Philosophy of Rhetoric, noted above. 42 Fifty years later, Whately, following Bacon's lead, defined the subject of logic and of rhetoric as follows:
/
remarked
in treating of that Science [Logic], that
Reasoning may
be considered as applicable to two purposes, which I ventured to designate respectively by the i.e.,
terms "Inferring" and "Proving,"
and
the estab-
I there
remarked
the ascertainment of the truth by investigation
lishment of
it
to the satisfaction of another;
that Bacon, in his of the
Organon, has
laid
down
and
rules for the conduct
former of these processes, and that the
latter belongs to the
province of Rhetoric; and it was added, that to infer, is to be regarded as the proper office of the Philosopher, or the Judge;— to prove, of the Advocate.^
This conception, while stressing the social importance of rhetoric, makes it a negligible factor for the philosopher. This tendency increases under the influence of Kant and of the German idealists, who boasted of removing all matters of opinion from philosophy, for which only apodictic truths are of any importance. The relation between the idea that we form of reason and the role assigned to rhetoric is of sufficient importance to deserve studies of all the great thinkers who have said anything about the matter— studies similar to those of Bacon by Prof. Karl Wallace and of Ramus In Prof.
*
On
Geometrical Demonstration;
f Ibid., p.
441.
GBWW, Vol.
33, p. 440.
301
The
New
Walter
Rhetoric
J.
Ong. 44 In what
follows,
I
would
like to sketch
how
the positivist
climate of logical empiricism makes possible a new, or renovated, con-
ception of rhetoric.
Within the perspective of neopositivism, the rational is restricted to what experience and formal logic enable us to verify and demonstrate. As a result, the vast sphere of all that is concerned with action— except for the choice of the most adequate means to reach a designated end— is turned over to the irrational.
The
very idea of a reasonable decision has
no meaning and cannot even be defined satisfactorily with respect to the whole action in which it occurs. Logical empiricism has at its disposal no technique of justification except one founded on the theory of probability. But why should one prefer one action to another? Only because it is more
How
efficacious?
aim
can one choose between the various ends that one can
at? If quantitative
measures are the only ones that can be taken into
account, the only reasonable decision would seem to be one that
conformity with utilitarian calculations. to a single
one of pleasure or
utility,
If so, all
and
is
in
ends would be reduced
all conflicts of
values
would be
dismissed as based on futile ideologies.
Now
not prepared to accept such a limitation to a monism world of action and would reject such a reduction on the ground that the irreducibility of many values is the basis of our freedom and of our spiritual life; if one considers how justification takes place in the most varied spheres— in politics, morals, law, the social sciences, and, above all, in philosophy— it seems obvious that our intellectual tools cannot all be reduced to formal logic, even when that is enlarged by a theory for the control of induction and the choice of the most efficacious techniques. In this situation, we are compelled to develop a theory of argumentation as an indispensable tool for practical reason. In such a theory, as we have seen, argumentation is made relative to the adherence of minds, that is, to an audience, whether an individual deliberating or mankind as addressed by the philosopher in his appeal to reason. Whately's distinction between logic, as supplying rules of reaif
one
is
of values in the
soning for the judge, and rhetoric, providing precepts for the counsel, falls to
the
ground
as
being without foundation. Indeed, the counsel's
speech that aims at convincing the judge cannot rest on any different
kind of reasoning than that which the judge uses himself. The judge, having heard both parties, will be better informed and able to compare the arguments on both sides, but his judgment will contain a justification in no way different in kind from that of the counsel's argumentation. Indeed, the ideal counsel's speech is precisely one that provides the judge with all the information that he needs to state the grounds for his decision.
302
If rhetoric is regarded as complementary to formal logic and argumentation as complementary to demonstrative proof, it becomes of paramount importance in philosophy, since no philosophic discourse can
Chaim Perelman
develop without resorting to fluence of logical empiricism,
it.
all
This became clear when, under the
in-
philosophy that could not be reduced to
and of no worth. Philosophy, as contemporary culture. This situation can be changed only by developing a philosophy and a methodology of the reasonable. For if the rational is restricted to the field of calculation, measuring, and weighing, the reasonable is left with the vast field of all that is not amenable to quantitative and formal techniques. This field, which Plato and Aristotle began to explore by means of dialectical and rhetorical devices, lies open for investigation by the new rhetoric. calculation was considered as nonsense a consequence, lost
its
status in
Further developments
I
introduced the
new
rhetoric to the public for the
first
time over twenty
years ago, in a lecture delivered in 1949 at the Institut des
de Belgique. 4
"*
Hautes Etudes
In the course of the same year, the Centre National de
Recherches de Logique was founded with the collaboration of the professors of logic in the
Belgian universities. In 1953 this group organized an
international colloquium on the theory of proof, in which the use
method
and
was studied in the deductive sciences, in the natural sciences, in law, and in philosophy— that is, in the fields where recourse to reasoning is essential. 46 On that occasion Prof. Gilbert Ryle presented his famous paper entitled "Proofs in Philosophy," which claims that there are no proofs in philosophy: "Philosophers do not provide proofs any more than tennis players score goals. Tennis players do not try in vain to score goals. Nor do philosophers try in vain to provide proofs; they are not inefficient or tentative provers. Goals do not belong to tennis, nor of proof
proofs to philosophy." 47
What, then, is philosophical reasoning? What are "philosophical arguments"? According to Ryle, "they are operations not with premises and
upon operations with premises and concluwe are putting propositions through inference-hoops. In some philosophical arguments, we are matching the hoops through which certain batches of propositions will go against a worded recipe declaring what hoops they should go through. Proving is a one-level business; philosophical arguing is, anyhow sometimes, an interlevel conclusions, but operations sions.
In proving something,
business." 48 If
the notion of proof
is
restricted to the operation of
undeniable that philosophers and
inferences,
it is
what they
assert.
jurists
drawing valid rarely prove
onh
Their reasoning, however, docs aim at justifying the and such reasoning provides an example of the argumentation with which the new rhetoric is concerned. 48 The part played by argumentation in philosophy has given rise to numerous discussions and to increasing interest, as is shown In the special
points that they make,
303
The
New
Rhetoric
issue of the
subject,
1>\
Revue Internationale de Philosophie of 1961 devoted to the the colloquium on philosophical argumentation held in
Mexico Cit) In 1963, 60 b) the collection of studies published by Maurice Natanson and Henry W. Johnstone, Jr., entitled Philosophy, Rhetoric and Argumentation? 1 and by the special number of The Monist in 1964 on the same subject. Professor Johnstone has for many years been particularly interested in this topic and has published a book and many papers on it. 52 To further the study of the relation between philosophy and rhetoric, he organized with Prof. Robert T. Oliver, then head of the Speech Department at Pennsylvania State University, a colloquium in which philosophers and members of the speech profession met in equal numbers to discuss the question. The interest aroused by this initiative led to the founding in 1968 of a journal called Philosophy and Rhetoric, edited jointly by Professor Johnstone and Prof. Carroll C. Arnold. That so much attention should be focused on argumentation in philosophical thought cannot be understood unless one appreciates the paramount importance of practical reason— that is, of finding "good reasons" to justify a decision. In 1954 I drew attention to the role of decision in the theory of knowledge, 53 and Gidon Gottlieb further developed it, with particular attention to law, in his book The Logic of Choice?* Argumentation concerning decision, choice, and action in general is closely connected with the idea of justification, which also is an important element in the idea of justice. I have attempted to show that the traditional view is mistaken in claiming that justification is like demonstration but based on normative principles. 55 In fact, justification never directly concerns a proposition but looks instead to an attitude, a decision, or an action. "Justifying a proposition" actually consists in justifying one's adherence to it, whether it is a statement capable of verification or an unverifiable norm. A question of justification ordinarily arises only in a situation that has given rise to criticism: no one is called upon to justify behavior that is beyond reproach. Such criticism, however, would be meaningless unless some accepted norm, end, or value had been infringed upon or violated. A decision or an action is criticized on the ground that it is immoral, illegal, unreasonable, or inefficient— that is, it fails to
respect certain accepted rules or values. It always occurs within a
it is always "situated." Criticism and justification are two forms of argumentation that call for the giving of reasons for or against, and it is these reasons that ultimately enable us to call the action or
social context;
decision reasonable or unreasonable.
In 1967 a colloquium was held on the subject of demonstration, veriorganized jointly by the Institut International de
fication, justification,
Philosophie and the Centre National de Recherches de Logique. 56 At that meeting I emphasized the central role of justification in philosophy. 304
Among
other things,
it
enables us to understand the part played by the
Chaim Perelman
claimed J. Ayer on probability theory; 57
principle of induction in scientific methodology. Prof. A. that the principle of induction cannot be based yet
it
did seem possible to give good reasons for using induction as a
heuristic principle. 5s
But
this
justification in philosophy.
It
is
only a particular case of the use of
is
essential
wherever practical reason
is
involved. is neither deductive nor inductive, Lucien Levy-Bruhl, in his famous book La Morale et la
In morals, for example, reasoning
but
justificative.
science
cles
traditional
moeurs (1903), criticized the deductive character of much moral philosophy and proposed the conception of the science
of morals that
made
it
a sociological discipline, inductive in character.
Yet in morals absolute preeminence cannot be given either to principles—
which would make morals a deductive discipline— or to the particular case— which would make it an inductive discipline. Instead, judgments regarding particulars are compared with principles, and preference is given to one or the other according to a decision that is reached by resorting to the techniques of justification and argumentation. 59
The
idea of natural law
is
also misconceived
when
it is
posed in onto-
Are there rules of natural law that can be known objectively? Or is positive law entirely arbitrary as embodying the lawmaker's sovereign will? A satisfactory positive answer cannot be given to either question. We know that it is imperative for a lawmaker not to make unreasonable laws; yet we know too that there is no one single manner, objectively given, for making just and reasonable laws. Natural law is better considered as a body of general principles or loci, consisting of ideas such as "the nature of things," "the rule of law," and of rules such as "No one is expected to perform impossibilities," "Both sides should be heard"— all of which are capable of being applied in different ways. It is the task of the legislator or judge to decide which of the not unreasonable solutions should become a rule of positive law. Such a view, according to Michel Villey, corresponds to the idea of natural law found in Aristotle and St. Thomas Aquinas— what he calls the classical logical terms.
natural law. 60
For government to be considered legitimate, to have authority, there must be some way of justifying it. Without some reasonable argumentation for it, political power would be based solely on force. If it is to obtain respect, and not only obedience, and gain the citizens' acceptance, it must have some justification other than force. All political philosophy, in fact, aims at criticizing and justifying claims to the legitimate exercise of power. 61
Argumentation establishes a link between political philosophy and law and shows that the legislator's activity is not merely an expression of un-
From
Hume
and Kelseil were and what ought to be and claiming that no inference can be made from one to the other.
enlightened right in
will.
making
a
lack of such a theory.
sharp distinction between what
is
305
The
New
Rhetoric
Things take
a different
outlook, however,
when one
recognizes the im-
portance of argumentation in supplying good reasons for establishing and interpreting norms. Kelsen's pure theory of the law then loses the
main part
of
its
logical justification. 6 -
theory of the law, as J0rgensen.
lias
The same
befalls Alf Ross's realist
been shown in the remarkable essay by Prof. Stig
,!;i
The new
new
rhetoric has also been used to throw
light
upon
the ed-
on the analysis of political propaganda, on the process of literary creation, as well as on the reasoning of the historian. 64 But it is in the field of law that it has made the largest impact. 6 Recent studies and colloquia devoted to the logic of law testify to the keen interest that ucator's task,
"'
the subject has aroused, especially
among French-speaking jurists. 66 The new series of lectures,
faculty of law at Brussels has just inaugurated a
and Argumentation." 67 Lawyers and philosophers working in collaboration have shown that the theory of argumentation can greatly illuminate the nature of legal reasoning. The judge is obliged by law to pass sentence on a case that comes before him. Thus Article 4 of the Code Napoleon declares: "The judge who, under pretext of the silence, the obscurity, or the incompleteentitled "Logic
ness of the law, refuses to pass sentence
He may
is
liable to prosecution for the
is an antinomy or lacuna in the legal system that he has to apply. He cannot, like the mathematician or formal logician, point out that the system is incoherent or incomplete. He must himself solve the antinomy or fill in the lacuna. Ordinary logic by itself would suffice to show the existence of either an antinomy or a lacuna, but it cannot get him out of the resulting dilemma: only legal logic based on argumentation can
denial of justice."
accomplish
To
not limit himself to declaring that there
that.
from exhaustive, survey, it is necesnew rhetoric is having for philosophy and the study of its history. Twenty years ago, for example, the Topics and Rhetoric of Aristotle were completely ignored by philosophers, whereas today they are receiving much attention. 68 Renewed interest in this hitherto ignored side of Aristotle has thrown new light upon his entire metaphysics 69 and attached new importance to his notion of phronesis or prudence. 70 Renewed attention is being given to the classical rhetoric of Cicero, 71 and we are now gaining a better understanding of the historical development of rhetoric and logic during the Middle Ages conclude
this general,
but
far
sary to stress again the import that the
and the Renaissance. 72 It is
possible too that the
new
rhetoric
may provoke
of the Hegelian conception of dialectic with
thesis
a reconsideration
and
antithesis cul-
which might be compared to a reasonable judge who retains the valid part from antilogies. This new rhetorical perspective may also help us to a better understanding of the American pragmatists,
minating in a 306
its
synthesis,
Chaim Perelman especially of C. logic,
aimed
at
S.
Peirce,
who, in his approximation
to Hegel's objective
developing a rhetorica speculativa.'*
For these inquiries to be pursued, however, the theory of argumentation must awaken the interest of philosophers and not merely that of lawyers and
members
subject, Professor
mentation well
is
known
still
of the speech profession. In a synoptic study of the
Johnstone deplores the fact that the theory of argulittle known in the United States, although it is now
in Europe. 74 Attention has
raised by the use of practical reason,
been focused on the problems field has been explored and
and the
and practitioners of the law. There is much from this work if they would cease confining their methodological inquiries to what can be accomplished by formal logic and the analysis of language. 75 A more dynamic approach to the problems of language would also reveal the extent to which language, far from being only an instrument for communication, is also a tool for action and is well adapted to such a purpose. 76 It may even prove possible to achieve a synthesis of the different and seemingly opposed tendencies of contemporary philosophy, such as existentialism, pragmaticism, analytical philosophy, and perhaps even a new version of Hegelian and Marxist dialectic. 77
mapped by
theoreticians
that philosophers could learn
307
New
The
1
Rhetoric
Duinaisais. Des
on des different* setts rf
unmended
that
men
almost expect to be
think
heists,
mumbling
for
in
their mouths,
veet"; and, as old as they are,
"Life
still
aiding, daily plastering their face,
is
.ill
perhaps you'll
unless
can neither
all
with
loin
armed with li\
ol
.1
because
he-
understood not grammar, nor ate cheese
ic\
is
kind,
luch because he
the warlike horse unfortunate,
ver
ge,
and
For
bull.
cakes;
to
it.
its
man
a
with birds, nor walk on
fly
But the best sport of all see our old women, even dead with and such skeletons one would think had stolen out of their graves, and for
the
make
and so
ill
the-
a
bull miserable, because he'd wrestler.
horse that has no miserable, that
u
the)
skill
more agree
ii
And iu
man
with
therefore, as
'41.1111111.11
in
nil
is
•»
not
tins respect,
nature.
But
catei
m.ikc
isp/utiij 26)
u n
.
Vol
337
Great Books Library
ma) »a\ that there was added to man the knowledge of sciences, by whose help he might recompense himself in understanding for what again, the virtuosi
particularly
nature cut him short in other things. As
added I know not how many more; mere torments of wit, and that so great that even grammar alone is work enough for any man for his whole life. to do,
il
had the least face of truth, that Nature that was so solicitously watchful in the
XXXII
this
production
of
gnats,
that he should have
need
flowers
she
made man
to be
helped by
when
should have so slept
and
herbs,
which that old devil Theuth, the evil genius of mankind, first invented for his destruction, and are so little conducive to
happiness that they rather obstruct which purpose they are properly said
be
first
found out,
argues touching the invention of
name imports when you that
is
to
say,
all
letters. 13
other mischiefs
devils,
it
call
for so the
them demons,
knowing. For that simple
people of the golden age, being wholly
ig-
norant of everything called learning, lived only by the guidance and dictates of nature; for
man
what use
of
grammar, where every
spoke the same language and had no
further design than to understand one an-
other?
no
What
bickering
common
sense, that
is
to say, folly. Divinel
are half-starved, naturalists out of heart,
as-
esteemed, even
with other the pests of mankind, from the spring; we'll suppose
these sciences those
only are in esteem that come nearest to
to
Sciences therefore crept into the world
same head from whence
among
it:
king in Plato
as that wise
yet
and logicians slighted; only the physician is worth all the rest. And among them too, the more unlearned, impudent, or unadvised he is, the more he is
sciences,
to
Though
trologers laughed
especially as
it
at,
among princes. For physic, is now professed by most
men, is nothing but a branch of flattery, no less than rhetoric. Next them, the second place is given to our law-drivers, if not the first, whose profession, though I say it myself, most men laugh at as the ass of philosophy; yet there's scarce any business, either so great or so
small,
but
is
managed by
These purchase their great lordships, while in the meantime the divine, having run through the whole body of divinity, sits gnawing a radish and is in continual warfare with lice and fleas. As these asses.
therefore those arts are best that have the
use of logic, where there was
nearest affinity with folly, so are they most
double-meaning
happy of all others that have least commerce with sciences and follow the guidance of Nature, who is in no wise imperfect, unless perhaps we endeavor to leap over those bounds she has appointed to us. Nature hates all false coloring and is ever best where she is least adulterated with art.
about
the
What need of rhetoric, where were no lawsuits? Or to what purpose words?
there laws,
where there were no ill manners? from which without doubt good laws first came. Besides, they were more religious than with an impious curiosity to dive into the secrets of nature, the dimension of stars, the motions, effects, and hidden causes of things; as believing it a crime for any man to attempt to be wise beyond his condition. And as to the inquiry of what was beyond heaven, that madness never came into their heads. But the purity of the golden age declining by degrees,
first,
as
I
said before,
were invented by the evil genii; and yet but few, and those too received by arts
Chaldean superstition and Greek newfangledness, that had little
XXXIII
Go
to
then, don't you find
among
the
several kinds of living creatures that they thrive best that understand no more than' what Nature taught them? What is more prosperous or wonderful than the bee? And though they have not the same judgment
of sense as other bodies have, yet wherein
has architecture gone beyond their build-
fewer. After that the
338
13
Phaedrus 274C-D;
GBWW,
Vol.. 7,
138d.
Erasmus: The Praise of Folly
What
houses?
of
ing
philosopher
ever
founded the like republic? Whereas the horse, that comes so near man in understanding and is therefore so familiar with him, is also partaker of his misery. For
gether
to-
should yet so far forget their condition as
not to mention those strong
bits,
shame
a
to lose the race,
while he contends for
battle,
he's
cut
down
with
his
rider,
earth";
14
sharp
spurs,
"lies
arms,
stables,
close
and,
himself,
submits
[men of
he so eagerly
valor,
revenged of the enemy.
will-
imitating
while,
to,
blows,
he
rider, and, briefly, all that slavery
ingly
those
strives
be
to
Than which how
[much more were the life of flies or birds to be wished for, who, living by the instinct of nature, look no further than the present, if vet man would but let them lalone in it. And if at any time they chance to be taken, and being shut up in cages endeavor strange
ire the
our
speaking,
'tis
they degenerate from their na-
much
So
better in every respect
works of nature than the adulteries
art.
In like i
imitate
to
how
tive gaiety.
pf
manner
can never
I
sufficiently
praise that Pythagoras in a dunghill cock,
bo
being but one had been yet every-
woman,
thing, a philosopher, a man, a
King, a private man, a lind,
I
fish,
a
a horse, a frog,
and at last conno creature was more miserable
believe too, a sponge;
Jzluded that
han man, for that all other creatures are lontent with those bounds that nature set [hem, only man endeavors to exceed them.
a
craft's
to affect the life of gods;
ample of the
make
gimcracks
ical
XXXIV again,
gives
tin
recedency not to the learned or the great, ut the fool.
Nor had
hose rather to
lie
that Gryllus
many the-
in
11
who
hog
a
other to so
sty
man)
Nor does Homer, that lathe l dissent from me; who not only called
hazards. rifles,
less wit
counsels,
grunting
han be exposed with
a
1
men "wretched and often
his
great
war upon nature:
they on the other side seem as able
so
miser-
little
is possible who come nearest to and never attempt anything beyond
as
beasts
man. Go
how demonstra-
to then, let's try
not by enthymemes or the im-
ble this
is;
perfect
syllogisms
the
of
but
Stoics,
by
and ordinary examples. And now, by the immortal gods! I think nothing more happy than that generation plain, downright,
men we commonly
of
and
wits,
call fools, idiots, lack-
splendid
dolts;
as
too,
titles
I
you a thing, which perhaps may seem foolish and at first absurd, yet nothing more true. And first they are not afraid of death— no small e\il. by Jupiter! They are not tormented with
conceive them.
tell
I'll
the conscience of evil acts, not terrified with
nor frightened with
fables of ghosts,
the
spirits
and
They are not evils to come nor
goblins.
with the fear of
distracted the hopes
of future good. In short, they are not dis-
turbed
with
which
this life
nor
modest,
thousand
those is
subject.
fearful,
They
nor
ol
cai
are neither
ambitious,
man. \ml
.tin
nor
lastly,
they should come nearer even t the vex) Ignorance of brutes, the) could not tin, foi
full
pattern
of
c
of
.1
Limit
\
And now
hold the divines.
so
wise
Tool,
with
how
mam
perplexed; heap
is
together
the discommodities
all
and then evils
I
continually
you'll be sensible
have delivered m\
."
wisdom.
tell DM troubleSOHM cues
your mind
i »
>ut
after the ex-
if
among men he
.han Ulysses with his
and
giants, with their philosoph-
envious, nor love the)
And
and Achil-
pray but that, like
I
the
the
in
victory,
why,
biting
it
often happens that he cracks his wind;
and
And
nowhere.
cunning fellow and one that was his master, he did nothing without the advice of Pallas? In a word, he was too wise, and by that means ran wide of nature. As therefore among men they are least happy that study wisdom, as being in this twice fools, that when they are born men, they
while he thinks it
Ulysses, "miserable"; Paris, Ajax, les
Virgil
M9b.
I
II
118;
«»t your life. from how ni.un
1«>1s.
GBW
Add
ii
.
to this
Vol.
13,
339
Great Books Library
MpHonfS
fcvyccTKp fislwo
princes about
nothing but grave, serious
and trusting and learning do not matters,
fi^J^om hums filianufc mi.
3>eceqi detinct.d
lypfo VlylTemi gia detinentcm gafltum c xemj;
cu?u£na/ecutn
to
own
their
parts
sometimes "to grate their tender ears with smart truths"; but fools
them with
fit
fear
that they most de-
light in, as jests, laughter, abuses of other
men, wanton pastimes, and the like. Again, take notice of this no contemptible blessing which Nature has given fools,
C iciro intcrp rc
that they are the only plain, honest
gigan rum fab u Sbjqs aduerfy
and such as speak truth. And what is more commendable than truth? For though that
tvirarnjCOjiaair*
proverb of Alcibiades in Plato attributes
fcrplina^ tnach Explicuit tncta
truth to drunkards
ram addito
uer
praise of
it
is
and children, 15
men
yet the
particularly mine, even fronr
the testimony of Euripides,
among whose
4
prio,madiihts"
other things there
is
extant that his honor-t
able saying concerning us, that they are not only merry,
play,
sing,
and laugh themselves, but make mirth wherever they come, a special privilege it seems the gods have given them to refresh
Whence
fool speaks
in his heart,
and expresses
he both shows it
wise men's are
it
in his looks
in his discourse; while the
those
two tongues which
that
the same Euripides mentions, whereof the
whereas the world is so differently affected one towards another, that all men indifferently admit them as their companions, desire, feed, cherish, embrace them, take their parts upon all occasions, and permit them without offense to do or say what they
one speaks truth, the other what they judge most seasonable for the occasion. These
the pensiveness of
like.
And
life.
it
is
so little does everything desire to
hurt them, that even the very beasts, by a
kind of natural instinct of their innocence
no doubt, pass by their injuries. For of them it may be truly said that they are consecrate to the gods, and therefore and not without cause do men have them in
XXXV
Whence
are they "that turn black into white," blow
hot and cold with the same breath, and carry
a
breast
different
in
their
their
far
tongue. Yet in the midst of
is it
else that they are in so great
Symposium 217E; Bacchantes 369;
mmiseriam?^P™f opuraddi isnccgpran.tix offtnt,
without them? Nay, and in some degree they prefer these fools before their crabbish
whom
for state's sake.
yet they keep about
Nor do
I
them
so
difficult,
strange
why
others,
for
or
that
yraria (olent
akrcdi
conceive the reait
should
these wise
men
C n h%. »-r-
Erasmus: The Praise
them
to tell
they are forced to re-
truth,
ucisfnon mihi
ceive flatterers for friends.
ib'habSdG c5f
someone may
ueft,idc$ dices
But,
say, the ears of princes
and for this reason they avoid those wise men, because they fear lest someone more frank than the rest should dare to speak to them things rather are strangers to truth,
true
than pleasant;
that they don't yet this fools,
is
for so
much
the matter
is,
And among my
care for truth.
found by experience
open
that not only truths but even
of Folly
Serifi
nimis.)
amdctentfkai ic| naulicrcs
co
moriaib^&c* )Cipc,putatesfa Elyfii
atilateat.
ilyduSuidasajt
V vcu
9JL
WV
0I
reproaches are heard with pleasure; so that the
same thing which,
if it
came from
a wise
For truth carries with
it
a certain peculiar
no accident fall in to give occasion of offense; which faculty the power of pleasing,
if
gods have given only to
same reasons
is
it
that
FU~$.
T-M f>V»1
man's mouth might prove a capital crime, spoken by a fool is received with delight.
fools. And women are
nestly delighted with this
ness, leanness, crassness,
what matter is it, when lived?); and such is the great wise man.
for the
time (though
so ear-
he die that never
kind of men,
as
and an
sore eyes,
old age and death contracted before their yet,
picture of this
being more propense by nature to pleasure
and toys. And whatsoever they may happen to do with them, although sometimes it be f the most serious, yet they turn it to jest and laughter, as that sex was ever Iquick-witted, especially to color their
own
XXXVII
And
me and say that nothing more miserable than madness. But folly the next degree,
what
•faults.
here again do those frogs of the
Stoics croak at
else
out of his wits? But to
XXXVI
for a
man
them
let
Muses' good favor we'll take pieces.
argued,
Subtly
how
with
the
this syllogism
must
I
to be
see
they are clean out of the way,
in
confess,
how
but as Socrates in Plato 17 teaches us
by splitting one Venus and one Cupid
make two
is
not the very thing. For
if
madness than
is
is
of either, in like
to
manner should
those logicians have done and distinguished madness from madness, it .it least the\ would be thought to be well in their wits themselves. For all madness is nof miserable, or [orace had never called his poel I
fury
ical
a
beloved
placed the raptun
i
ol
madness;
nor
[oven among the chiefesf blessings nor thai
life;
travels
sons
ol
sib)
I
in
Virgil called
labors. 18
Bui
madness, the
m'
mad
Symposium L80D; t.nn n
is
Aeneid
135;
GBH
and
R
.
.
Vol
this
ol
\< fleas'
two
an
there that
17
6.
Plato
poets, prophets,
which the
7,
p
I
Vol. 13, p. 214b.
341
Great Books Library
Furies send
revengeful
from
privily
hell,
and
as often as they let loose their snakes
put into men's breasts either the desire of or an
war,
insatiate
some dishonest
after
thirst
or
gold,
or parricide,
love,
or
in-
or sacrilege, or the like plagues, or
cest,
when
they
terrify
some
guilty
with
soul
not only errs in his senses but
that
is
judgment, and that too more than ordinary and upon all occasions— he. must confess, would be though!
deceived
also
his
in
I
come very near
As
if
anyone hear-
ing an ass bray should take
it
for excellent
to
to
it.
the conscience of his crimes; the other, but
music, or a beggar conceive himself
a king.
nothing
And
it
which comes from me and is of all other things the most desirable; which happens as often as some like
this,
that
pleasing dotage not only clears the of
its
troublesome cares but renders
And
jocund. special
this
it
was that which,
mind more as
a
blessing of the gods, Cicero, writ-
ing to his friend Atticus, wished to himself,
he might
that
be
the
less
sensible
hung over
of those miseries that then
yet this kind of madness,
monly happens,
that are possessed with that
behold
than the people take
man
among
and
so
if
his
friends,
good a master
kind
to
his wife,
to his servants that
they had broken the seal of his bottle, he
would not have run mad
But at last, and physic he was freed from his distemper and become his own man again, he thus expos-
when by
tulates
for
it.
the care of his friends
with them, "Now, by Pollux,
my
you have rather killed than preserved me in thus forcing me from my pleasure." By which you see he liked it so well that he lost it against his will. And trust me, I think they were the madder of the two, and had the greater need of helfriends,
lebore, that should offer to look
upon
so
pleasant a madness as an evil to be removed
though yet I have not deterwhether every distemper of the sense or understanding be to be called madness. For neither he that having weak eyes should take a mule for an ass, nor he that
in
And in this how many
and
it
much
is
to be.
if I
every
man
larger
For one beget
mad
them-
the more happy more he is mad;
is
respects the
were judge in the
be ranged in that culiarly mine,
he should
case,
class of folly that
which
in
truth
is
is
so
pe-
large
that I scarce know anyone in mankind that is wise at all hours or has not some tang or other of madness.
and universal all
And
do they appertain that comparison of hunting and protest they take an unimaginable pleasure to hear the yell of the horns and the yelps of the hounds, and I believe could pick somewhat extraordinary out of their very excrement. And then what pleasure they take to see a buck or the like unlaced? Let ordinary fellows cut up an ox or a wether, 'twere a crime to have this done by to this class
slight everything in
anything
less
his hat off,
for that is
as excel-
as the other, for
XXXVIII
by physic;
poem
mad
mutual pleasure. Nor does it seldom that he that is the more mad laughs at him that is less mad.
mined
should admire an insipid
it
them
to
but to those also
it
laughs at another and
happen
ant
com-
pleasure,
to
madness
the species of this
selves a
well enough, pleas-
as
though perhaps they may
it,
not be altogether so
the
man
turn
it
if,
brings a great delight not only
commonwealth. Nor was that Grecian in Horace much wide of it, who was so far mad that he would sit by himself whole days in the theatre laughing and clapping his hands as if he had seen some tragedy acting, whereas in truth there was nothing presented; yet in other things a
342
would be presently thought mad; but
lent lit
on
than a gentleman!
who
with
and a couteau every sword or knife
his bare knees,
purpose
(for
not allowable), with a curious supersti-
tion
and certain
postures,
lays
open
the
several parts in their respective order; while
they that as
hem him
some new
in
admire it with silence, ceremony, though
religious
perhaps they have seen
it
a
hundred times
Erasmus: The Praise
«habet^muncm.camplufcp Pendo p«m eflc dcicrat.fibicp maiorem in mo/
OdTfef«;;'Homc Vndt fubmdc^
run
,
Vo,u P a
,
;fe^!^,b
uenandi
d«mplaudit,fQriidtefmans,hucnulIus infanu appcllat, fpterea quod paflim
eod?uocac.Ouidr*,
Pcndopc
of Folly
poterat ta
multosfaJuaperan/ nos V»ucre,t3 mulf o$ fceminadignauiria
Ad hue
mantis hoc aaadJercuidcant,
ordwetn
Adhucordmem.) TaxatineptilTimumucnAdl ftudium^n
before.
And
if
any of them chance
piece of
the least
himself no small gentleman. In
more than
thev drive at nothing
to get
he presently thinks
it,
which
all
become
to
themselves, while yet they imagine
beasts
they live the
And
next these
that have
when
at last,
may be reckoned
they are quite lost in
with
this sentence,
attempt
"In great things the
And
very-
enough," and then complain of
is
the shortness of man's
those
all
up themselves
their expectations, they cheer
cient for so great
of princes.
life
And
that
life
not
is
suffi-
an understanding.
then for gamesters,
am
I
a
little
one while changing rounds into squares, and
doubtful whether they are to be admitted
presently again squares into rounds, never
ridiculous sight to see
knowing either measure or end,
it
such an itch of building;
till
reduced to the utmost poverty,
mains not
them
to
may
they
may
:hey
as a place
re-
where
wherewith
all this?
to
but that
pass over a few years in feeding
:heir foolish
:
And why
their bellies.
fill
much
so
lay their head, or
at last,
there
fancies.
And, in my opinion, next these may be reckoned such as with their new inventions
md
occult
lorms of
undertake
arts
tilings
and hunt
pertain fifth essence; [.his )f i
men
present hope that
their pains or
riving
how
they
having spent
all,
to
all
so
change the
about after a
bewitched with
never repents them
nuch
as in
them
scarce got
his clerks,
just debts than not pay lest
nun
ot
words.
their
with
see
old
spectacles?
not enough
lift
knuckles, to hire
same happiness.
d( v
in
put the dice thing,
the most
1
in
•