Vol. V, May 1994

EPISTEME

A Journal of Undergraduate Philosophy Volume V May 1994

Contents

HOBBES, LOCKE AND THE STATE OF NATURE THEORIES: A REASSESSMENT ,., ...................., .................. 1

. Michael P. Greeson; University of Central Oklahoma

ARENDT AND MAcINTYRE ON THE ENLIGHTENMENT'S FAILURE ............. 17 Andrew Janiak; Hampshire College

THE ORIGIN OF AN INQUIRY: EVOLUTIONARY EPISTEMOLOGY IN JAMES' PRAGMATISM .................................................. 35

J. Ellis Perry IV; University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth

REVISIONING HEIDEGGER: EXISTENTIELL CruSES AND THE QUESTION OF THE MEANING OF BEING ............................................ 53

Paul Rector; Towson State University

HARTMANN, KOLB, PIPPIN AND THE UNHAPPY CONSCIOUSNESS ............ 63 Kevin Thomson; Carleton College

The editors express sincere appreciation to the Denison University ResearchFoundation, the Denison Office of Admissions, the Denison Honors Program, Pat Davis and Faculty Advisor David Goldblatt for their assistance in making the publication of this journal possible. We also extend special gratitude to the Philosophy Department faculty: Eric Barnes, David Goldblatt, Amy Friesen, Tony Lisska, Ronald E. Santoni and Steven Vogel for their constant enthusiasm, support and creative input.

HOBBES, LOCKE AND THE STATE OF NATURE THEORIES:

A REASSESSMENT

Michael P. Greeson

University of Central Oklahoma

Both Thomas Hobbes and John Locke utilize a "state of nature" construct to elucidate their more general views onhuman nature and politics. Yet their conceptions of man's original condition in the state of nature are usually contrasted: the political philosophy of Locke's Second Treatise paints man as a "pretty decent fellow," far removed from the quarrelsome, competitive, selfish creatures said to be found in Hobbes's Leviathan.1 Lockean man seems to be more naturally inclined to civil society, supposedly more governed by reason. From this interpretation of human nature, Locke concluded that the state of nature was no condition of war, placing himself in opposition to the traditional interpretation of Hobbes.

Itismy contention that although Locke painstakingly attempts to disassociate himself with the Hobbesian notion of the "se1f-interested man" in a perpertual "state of war," the execution of this attempt falls short, and can even be recognized to implicitly (if not explicitly) contain the very reasoning that Hobbes ulilizes to advocate the movement ofman from the state of nature to civil society. In order to demonstrate the truth ofthis contention, I will briefly ou tline the development of their philosophies and offer both a reinterpretation ofthe Hobb esian sta te of nature, and a cri tical anal ysis 0 fLoc ke' 5 view of the state of nature in the Second Treatise.

I. Hobbes: Method and Problem

Hobbes offered a materialistic metaphysics that utilized a simplified version of Galileo's resolutio-compositive method. According to this method, complex phenomena are broken down into their

GI'US01t is II junior philosophy lfIajol' ami political sciwce miliaI'. 1II! ,,[mls em IIt1Cllllillg fill! University of To roll to to complete II docfotlte ill 1'/1ilasophy. This paper WIlS m:enfliJ cowinner oft/Ie Undergraduate Paperojfl!e Yeal'llWIll'd offered by tile Soutit-Westall Political Scitmce Association.

1Examples of the many works in political philosophy that hold such views are Simmons, A. J. "Locke's State of Nature," and Great Political Thinkers, W. and A. Ebenstein, New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanavich College Publishers, 1991.

Episteme Volume V May 1994

2 MICHAEL P. GREESON

simplest natural motions and components. Once these elements are understood, the workings of complex wholes are easily derived. Hobbes' intent was to develop a systematic study in three parts, starting with simple motions in matter (De Corpore), moving to the study ofhuman nature (De Homine) , and finally to politics (De Cive), each based, respectively, on a lower level of analysis (Lasco and Williams, p. 230). Hence, reality for Hobbes is reducible to mechanistic and material principles, or, simply stated, bodies m motion. Ifwe are to understand politics. Hobbes suggests that we should look at such phenomena in tenus of the relationships between "men in. motion."

Furthermore, Hobbes adopted the Galilean proposition that that which is in motion continues in motion until altered by some other force. (Of course, this is a theoretical assumption which, independently, cannot be proven true or false, since all we do observe are bodies that are acted upon by such forces). Likewise, Hobbes assumed that human beings act voluntarily based upon their "passions," until they are resisted by another force or forces. This outward motion of the individual is the beginning of voluntary motion, which Hobbes calls "endeavor." Endeavor directed towards an object is called "appetite" or"desire." Endeavor dlrected away from an object is called "aversion" (Gauthier, p. 6).

The several passions of manare "species" of desires and aversion, which are directed toward those objects whose effects produce pleasure and away from those objects which produce pain. Thus, Hobbes conceives men to be self-maintaining engines whose "motion is such that it enables them to continue to 'move' as long as continued motion IS possible" (Gauthier, p. 7).

From this account of utili tousmotion, itlogically follows, according to Hobbes, that each man in the state of nature seeks only to preserve and strengthen himself. "A concern for continued wellbeing is both the necessary and sufficient ground of human action; hence, man.is necessarily selfish" (Gauthier, p. 7).

!tis this perpetual endeavor for self-preservation within the state of nature which gives rise to a condition of "war." Hobbes believes that men, being originally all equal in the "faculties of the body and mind," equally hope to fulfill their ends of vital motion (Leviathan, p. 100). Hence, if "two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies," for both, knowing

3 HOBBES, LOCKE AND THE STATE OF NATURE THEORIES

naturalmorallaw would b e privy to the unconditional, absolute and categorical right to preserve oneself at all cost (Leviathan, p. 98).This state of war encompasses all, "everyman, against everyman" (Leviathan, p. 100). Without a common power to police and settle disputes, man is in a perpetual condition of war; "war consisting not only in battle, orin the act of fighting, but in awillingness to contendbybattle being sufficiently recognized" (Leviathan, p. 100). The state of nature is seen as a condition in which the will to fight others is known, fighting is not infrequent and each individual perceives that his life and well-being are in constant danger (Leviathan, p. 100). Accordingly,menin the state of nature live without security other than their own strength; this is argued to be the natural condition of mankind, and leads Hobbes to the conclusion that such existence is "natural" to man, but not rational (whereas society is seen as rational, but not natural, contra Aristotle) (Kavka, p. 292).

It is within this irrational condition of "war," or Hobbesian"fear" or "despair," inwhichhumanbeings find little hope ofattaining their ends without conflict, that mortal men are compelled to elect a sovereign and move out of the state of nature; only then can the imperative of self-preservation be truly fulfilled through peace (Lemos, p. 24). It is important to note that the state of nature, for Hobbes, is a philosophic device employed as a means ofhypothesizing about humanbehavior in a pre-political and pre-socia] state, Le., a state without any extemal constraint on behavior. As Hobbes indicates, His not necessary to presume such a state actually existed, only that it captures essential features human beings would exhibit in such a condition.

Hobbes' political philosophy was received in his own time with nearly universal rejection, being more often renounced than actually read. Hobbes was labelled an atheist, the "monster of Malmesbury," a schemer, a heretic and a blasphemer (De Cive, p. xx). His advocacy of an absolute monarch as the solution to man's inherent condition further distanced him from the "enlightened" mainstream of 17th century political thought, including Locke's philosophy. It is a commonly held view that although Locke makes no specificmention of Hobbes in the Second Treatise, itmay nonetheless be interpreted as an attempt to systematically refute both the notion of absolute monarchy and Hobbes's description of the state of nature (Lemos, p. 74).


II. John Locke: Method and Problem

Philosophy, Locke tells the reader in the introduction ofhis Essay Concerning Human Understanding, is "nothing but true knowledge of things." Properly, philosophy contains the whole of knowledge, which Locke himself divides into three parts: a physica or natural philosophy, practica or moral philosophy, and logic, the"doctrine of signs." The goal of the philosopher is to build as complete a system as he possibly can within these three categories (Aaron, p. 74).

Yet Locke persuasively argues in the Essay that mankind's ability to gain true knowledge is significantly limited, and sets himself the taskof determining the demarcations of human knowledge. To help mankind rid itself of this "unfortunate" failing, he argues that man has been endowed with talents capable of allowing him to live a useful and profitable life. The Essay is extremely pradical: we should concentrate on what we can know, and not waste our energy or e Hort searching for knowltdge of things which lie beyond us (Aaron, p. 77).

It is exactly these practical and utilitarian ends that moti va ted the construction of his nloral and political philosophy. Although political and moral philosophy are not reducible to metaphysical plindples thot app.ly outside of their respective fields of inquiry (thus explnining the difficulties between advocating, on one hand, the strict empiricism of the Essay, and, on the other hand, the rationalist naturalluw theory of the Two Treatises), in all of his writings Locke assumes, fu ndamentally, that man knows enough to live a good and righteous hfe if he so chooses.

Locke argued that the state of nature is not identical to the state of war, and, although it is "inconvenient," nature is governed by a nuturullnw known by reason, the "coounon rule and measure God hus given mankind." The nalurallaw "teaches all mankind who will but consult it that, being all equal and independent, no on: ought to harm anothel: in his Hfe, health, liberty or property" (Locke, p. 4). If the law of nature is observed, the state of nature remains peaceful; conv(mtional wisdom defines this condition as one of mutual love (via the "judicious" Richard Hooker), from whence are "derived the great maxims of justice and charity" (Locke, p. 4).

Yet, according to Locke, God has instilled in natural man a "strong obligation of necessity, convenience and inclination to drive him into society"; hence, men quit their "natural power, resigned it


up into the hands of the community" for the assurance that their property will be preserved (Locke, pp. 44, 48, 53).

Men being, as has been said, by nature free, equal and independent, no one can be put out of this estate and subjected to the political power of another without his own consent. The only way whereby anyone divests himself of his natural liberty and put on the bonds ofcivil society is by agreeing with other men to joinandunite into a community for their comfortable, safe and peaceable living one amongst another, in a secure enjoyment of their properties and a greater securitr against any that are not of it. (Locke, p. 53).2

An equally important factor motivating mento forfeit the perfect freedom of the state of nature is that within this environment, each manhas a right to interpret natural law and to punish what he judges to be violations of it (Lemos, p. 85). Anyone who violates another's right to life, liberty or property has placed himself in a state of war, and the innocent party has the right to destroy those who act against him because those that are waging war do not live under the rule of reason, and, as a result, have no other rule but that of force and violence. Furthermore, this state of war would be perpetual ifjustice could not be fairly administered (Locke, pp. 11,13).

Therefore, in order to avoid a state of war, Locke suggests that one must forfeit the state of nature, creating an environment where disputes can be decided upon by an impartial authority (Locke, p. 14).

It would seem, at least upon prima facia analysis, that although both thinkers utilize a state of nature device to demonstrate political necessity, their similarities would end there. Hobbes' slate of nature would seem to be populated by self-interested egoists whose personal gain is ultimately important. Locke ,on the other hand, appears to suggest that a "civil" nature permeates pre-ci viI society to such an extent that man is voluntarily obliged to respect his fellow human beings. and the formation of civil society soon follows.

The common conception regarding the state of nature theories of Hobbes and Locke is thus presented. I shall now turn to the argu

2 A classic statement of libertarianism!


ments as to why this conception is invalid, beginning wi th a reassessment of Hobbes' position, followed by specific argtunents regarding Locke 'snotion of pre-political man' smoti vation to pursue civil ends.

III. Reassessing Hobbes

To understand morality and politics, Hobbes argues that one must understand man qua man; hence, psychology becomes the necessary foundation of moral and political science. And the only way to view mankind in its most natural condition is to assume a hypothetical state of nature in which men act purely out of passion, void of reason at Ieast initially. Hobbes' account ofthe state of nature, as shown in Chapter 17 of Leviathan, was expressly "designed to provide a glimpse of man without the garb of convention, h'adition orsociety, so asto uncover the underlying principles ofthemundane equity of natural man, without assuming an transcendent purpose or will" (Lasco and Williams, p. 252). Therefore, Hobbes' prescription for stability was a deduction from the necessary behavior of man in a theoretical society, nnt emphasizing how men ought to act, but rather how they would act void of any relationships, whatsoever. It is in this condition that our endeavors dispose us towards plensllre or pain; man, being concerned with only those endeavors which serve to preserve himself, chooses those objects which meet this condition. Hence, man wOl1Jd find himself often in competition with others for the same objects, and a state of war would ensue, with each having the "right to everything" he wishes.3

Historically, the negative interpretation of this condition of nature, being a "war of all against all," has been dominant in political and philosophical circles. Sterling Lamprecht defines the common conception of Hobbes' psychology as follows:

God made man such a beast and a rascal that he

3Keep in mind that the aim of Hobbes is not to suggest thnt we can actually observe such a condition, or that it is even remotely possible; this is m0rdy a fundqmental axiom in Hobbes' thought experiment. In fact, R.E. Ewin hilS nrgued that this more radical form of the natural condition is lIsed by Hobbes as part of a reductio, as to pointou t the logical inconsistencies between simultaneously ilssuming the existence of both such a natur


inclines universally to malice and fraud. Man's typical acts. UJ1Jess he is restrained by force, are violent and ruthless, savagely disregarding the persons and property of his fellows. His greatest longing is to preserve himself by gaining power over others and exploiting others for his own egoistic ends (De Cive, p. xx).

Lamprecht labels this view "Hobbism," and argues that in this view of human nature, Hobbes is far from being a Hobbist. Hobbes gives, to be sure, a picture of man in the state of nature which is far from becoming. But, Lamprecht argues, Hobbes did not intend to say that his picture of manin the state of nature is an exhaustive account of human nature. Rather, the concept of man in the state of nature enables us to measure the extent to which reason andsocial pressures Le., other "forces" determine and direct the expression of human passions.

The idea of man in the state of nature is for social science like that of a natural body in physical science. Physical science holds that a body continues in a state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line unless influenced by outside forces. Actually, there is no body which is not influenced by outside bodies; but the idea of such a body enables us to measure the outside forces (De Cive, p. xxi).

Such a natural man in "full motion" would be observable whenever one operates wholly under the dominion of passion, without the restraint, or to use Hobbes' language, "the opposing force," o.f reason. Man, acting on his own, with no concern for others' selpreservation, guided by short-term considerations only, is doomed to failure in a state of nature. But if long-term moral and political arrangements (i.e., a voluntary social contract) enable them to maintain themselves without facing a war of all against all, then the basic cause for hostility is removed (Gauthier, pp. 18-19). In fact, many scholars suggest that the whole concern of Hobbes' moral and political philosophy is to show men the way out of this short-term condition of war and into a long-term condition ofpeace, for human life can continue only if mankind can remove itself from such a

8 MICHAEL p, GREESON

condition. David Gauthier, inhis treatise titled The Logic OfLeviathan, states this argument most eloquently:

In the beginning, everyman has an unlimited right to do what he will, conceiving it to be for his preservation. But the exercise of this unlimited right is one of the causes of the war of all against all, which is inimical to preservation. Thus the unlimited right of nature proves contradictory in its use; the man who exercises his right in order to preserve himself contributes thereby to the war of all against all, which tends to his own destruction. And so it is necessary to give up some part of the unlimited natural right. ... The fundamental law of nature is "that every man ought to endeavor peace, as far as he has hope of obtaining it." The law is the most general conclusion man derives from his experience of the war of all against all. Clearly it depends on that experience, whether real or imagined. Although hypothetically a man might conclude that it was necessarily inimical to human life, only an analysis of the human condition with all social bonds removed shows that peace is the primary requisite for preservation (Gauthier, pp.51-53),

The salvation of mankind, for Hobbes, depends on the fact that although nature has placed him in an unpleasant condition, it has also endowed him with the possibility of removing himself from it, as revealed through the use of reason i.e., the rational desire to pursue those avenues in which the hope of attaining peaceful existence is real! To argue that the state of nature, for Hobbes, is purely brutish and warlike, devoid of rationality or reason, is to miss the point: it is a necessary ingredient to lead man out of the state of nature and into a civil society. Hobbes' visionofnaturernightbe but a limited guide; yet, to borrow the words of Gauthier, "it is a truth which we must endeavor to overcome-but we shall not overcome it ifwe misunderstand it, deny it, or ignore it (Gauthier, p. 180).


IV. Locke and Political Motivation

What follows are several arguments which independently suggest that the Lockean state of nature implicitly admits of a Hobbesian condition of war, for Locke himself views conflict as the primary motivating factor that necessarily compels man to leave the state of nature and enter civil society.

Initially, it is important to establish a fundamental point of difference between these two theories: Locke's state of nature is prepolitical (Le., prior to common authority). whereas, for Hobbes, it is pre-social. Locke refers to a situation in which a collection of human beings are not subject to political authority, not a situation in which there exists no form of rudimentary organization, much less an organized society (Lemos, p. 89). Hobbes uses the expression "state of nature" to denote a situation in whichmendo not live inany form of society at all, regardless of how fundamental. Furthermore, his definition tells us w hatpeople would be like if they could be divested of "all their learned responses or culturally induced behavior patterns, especially those such as loyalty patriotism, religious fervor or class honor" that frequently could override the "fear" that Hobbes speaks of so dramatically in pre;-civil society (Hinchman, p. 10).

If we were to assume man as existing pre-socially as Hobbes does (a condition without, trade, without the arts, without knowledge, without any account of time, without society itself), it seems a rather intuitive implication that he might be motivated by only self-centered drives, for that would be the extent of his learned behavior within this condition. Locke, on the other hand, takes social and cultural bonds for granted and argues purely from a pre-political position. Even a hypothetical Lockean might act a bit more selfishly in a Hobbesian state of nature; once semantic discrepancies are taken into account, these definitions already begin to appear closer to agreement.

Secondly, Locke's position seems tobe a normative prescription, as opposed to a theoretical description. For example: in chapter II, section 6 of the Second Treatise, Locke argues that through reason, those who consult the law of nature will learn that no one "ought" to harm another's life, liberty or possessions. This phrasing seems to suggest a normative position, prescribing how man should live in a state of nature, versus the account that Hobbes constructs upon his


theoretical premises. These positions are notmutually exclusive: one can observe pre-civil manin a Hobbesian state of nature and morally prescribe a Lockean state of nature as a more "civil" alternative.

Thirdly, Locke seems to provide evidence for the Hobbesian assumption thatmanoften acts out of selfishness and criminal intent.

Initially Locke seems somewhat ambiguous about precisely what motivates the man of nature to move to civil society: he states that God has instilled a "strong obligation of necessity, convenience and inclination to drive him into society." But why would man leave a state of nature that, at least according to Locke, provides him the ultimate liberty andpower over his destiny, a condition that he likens to "a state of peace , good-will, mutual assistance and preservation"?

If the man in the state of nature be so free, as has been said, if he be absolute lord of his own person and possessions, equal to the greatest, and subject to nobody, why will he part with his freedom, why will he give up his empire and subject himself to the domin.bn and control of any other power? To which it is obvious to answer that though in the state of nature he has such a right, yet the enjoyment of it is very uncertain and constantly exposed to the invasion of others .., This makes him willing to quit a condition which, however free, is full offeal' and continual dangers (Locke, p. 71),

He continues:

were it not for the corruption and viciousness of degenerate men, there would be no need of any other law, no necessity that men should separate from this great and natural community" (Locke, p. 72).

IfLocke 'sstate of nature is truly as "rational" and "concerned" as he suggests, why is the only motivating factor powerful enough to move men out of this condition that which he so vehemently denies exists: a Hobbesian condition of "war"?

Locke clearly states in the Second Treatise that one of the natural rights that must be granted to all men in the state of nature, equally, is that man should interpret natural law for himself and decide upon


appropriate punishment for offenders since there exists no common judge to settle controversies between men. It is precisely this intuitive and pre-political knowledge of the natural law that is said to enlighten man to the burdens of civil SOciety.

Yet Locke argues persuasively that any knowledge of a natural law is more often than not hindered due to mankind's inherent epistemic limitations. Man's own unquenchable and boundless curiosi ty itself becomes a hindrance. Richard Aaron uses the words of Locke's Essay to demonstrate this point:

Thus men, extending their inquiries beyond their capacities and letting their thoughts wander into these depths where they can find no sure footing, 'tis no wonder they raise questions and multiply disputes, which never coming to any clear resolution, are proper only to continue and increase their doubts and to confirm them at last in perfect skepticism (Aaron, p. 77).

Even if one accepted that a natural law existed, Locke's clear rejection of man's ability to know this law with any degree of certainty, combined with his suggestion that foreknowledge of such a law does not guarantee moral action, would seem to suggest a condition of skepticism anddisagreement. This position is strikingly similar to Hobbes' argument that although human reason is capable of discerning the laws of nature, mankind is unable to consistently follow the dictates of such reason (Lamprecht, De Cive, p. xxix). In fact, one of the strongest arguments that Locke proposes to reject in the First Treatise is the divine right theory of Sir Robert Filmer, which is based upon the notion that even if a right of succession had been determined by a law of nature, our knowledge of natural law is limited to such a degree that there remains no compelling reason to accept one explanation over another.

Furthermore, such subjective interpretations of the natural law would logically imply an unfairly administered and inconsistent justice. Locke continues:

for everyone in the state of nature being both judge and executioner, of the laws of nature, men being


partial to themselves, passion and revenge is very apt to carry them too far with too much heat in their own cases, as well as negligence and unconcernedness to make them remiss in other men's (Locke, p. 71).

This seems contradictory to an environment of peace and fellowship, and Locke strongly suggests that a state of war would exist if justice could not be fairly administered.

Consider this: For Locke, in the absence of a neutral judge, no one can accurately know truthfully whether his cause is right or wrong. Thus, everyone is at liberty to believe himself right. Patrick Colby provides case-in-point:

IT one person fears his neighbor, whether with cause or without (for only an individual can judge), by this partial and subjective determination the neighbor becomes a wild beast and is lawfully destroyed. But when the neighbor, now the target of attack, might understandably conclude thathis assailant is the wild beast and so endeavor to execute the law of nature against him (Colby, p. 3).

But this means that Locke's state of nature will not divide neatly into groups of "upright law-abiders and selfish malefactors." And if a distinction cannot be made between such individuals, it would seem impossible for justice to be administered effectively. Locke himself deduces suell a conclusion:

The inconveniences that they are therein exposed by the irregular and uncertain exercise of the power every man has of punishing the transgressions of others make them take sanctuary under the law of government (Locke, p. 71). .

Locke makes it clear from the beginning of his argument and increasingly so ashe progresses, that because judgment and punishmen tare in the hands of everyman, the state of nature works very poorly (Godwin, pp. 126-127). And in the state of nature, conflict (or a willingness to contend by conflict), once begun, and once unable to achieve a satisfactory resolution, would tend to continue to a harsh


ending, because there exists no authority to subject bothparties to the fair determination of the law (Godwin, p. 127).

This potential inconsistency in the application of natural law seems, for Locke, to create significant enough hardships to motivate man to civil sOciety:

I easily grant that civil government is the proper remedy for the inconveniences of the state of nature, which must certainly be great where men may be judges in their own case; since it is easy to be imagined that he who was to be unjust as to do his brother an injury will scarce be so just as to condemn himself for it (Locke, p. 9).

Clearly, Locke's original state of nature, ifnot absolutely equivalent to Hobbes' state of nature, is at the very least a place of extreme anxieties, inconveniences, inequality and fear of the potential outbreak of war. Locke provides convincing evidence that the state of nature wouldbe so dangerous andunhappy, and the preservation of one's right to life so precarious, that the law of nature demands that the state of nature be abandoned for civil society (Locke, p. 18). Though Locke suggests that his state of nature is not a Hobbesian condition of "war," a closer examination of this argument would tend to suggest that without the failure of the state of nature to guarantee a secure peace, mankind would never voluntarily choose to forfeit his absolute freedom. Jean Faurot provides support:

But (Locke's) state of nature also includes a condition scarcely distinguishable from that which Hobbes describes as a state of war-all that is needed is for some man to act contrary to reason, because in the state of nature every man is obligated to punish evildoers. In this way, war begins, with the right on the side of the innocent to destroy the evildoer, or, if he prefers, to enslave him. Nor is there any end to this condition in the state of nature, where every man is both judge and executioner. The slightest disagreementis enough to set men fighting, and the victory of the righteous is never secure. Therefore, menhave the strongest reasons for leaving the state of nature and


entering civil society (Faurot, p. 75).

Hence, not only do I argue that Locke's state of nature corresponds to Hobbes' notion of a condition of perpetual fear, or the "state of war," but it actually becomes the identical catalyst by which Lockean man justifies movement to civil society.

V. Conclusion

The point of this presentation is clear: the common conception of Locke as the political propounder of the polite school of positive, optimistic descriptive psychology is an inaccurate characterization. Furthermore, the also-common contrasting of Locke's view of man in the state of nature with Hobbes' theoretical consideration of natural man has been misunderstood. Hobbes did not concern himself with a "plain, historical method": his concerns were with devising a system of government (albeit monarchial) that would best servemankind's inherent drive for both self-preservation and peace.

Men enter civil society because the state of nature tends to deteriorate into a condition of unrest and insecurity. If all men were rational and virtuous, apprehending and obeying a natural law, th.::.re would be no problem. The presence of a few men acting in opposition to reason, combined with an environment lacking a common authority to arbih'ate disputes, creates a condition of instability and provides the necessary impetus for, in Locke's words, "reasonable part of positive agreement": a social contract (Faurot, p. 75),

Whether one accepts a reinterpretation of Hobbes' state of nature construct, or a closer examination of Locke's arguments, it is clear that, although not identical, their analyses offer many striking simi1arities. And, more importantly. without the instability and fear within the state of nature, neither philosopher could logically infer movement from nature to civil society: it becomes the necessary, perhaps sufficient cause for any social contract.

Therefore, the classical juxtaposition of Hobbes' and Locke's state of nature theories is at best questionable and far from convincing.

15 HOBBES, LOCKE AND'THE STATE OF NATURE THEORIES

WORKS CITED

Aaron, R. John Locke. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967.

Colby, P. "'The Law of Nature in Locke's Second Treatise," The Review ofPolitics, Vol. 49, Winter 1987.

Ewin, R.E. Virtues & Rights: 171e Moral Philosophy of Thomas Hobbes. Boulder: Westview Press, 1991.

Faurot, J.H. Problems of Political Philosophy. Scranton: Chandler Publishing Co., 1970

Gauthier, D. P. The Logic ofLeviathan. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969.

Godwin, R. "Locke's State of Nature in Political Societies," Westem Political Quarterly. Vol. 29, March 1976.

Hinchman, L. P. "The Origin of Human Rights: A Hegelian Perspective," Western Political Quarterly. Vol. 37, March 1984.

Hobbes, T. De Civc. ed. Sterling P. Lamprecht. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts, Inc., 1949.

--. Leviathan. New York: MacMillan, 1962.

Lasco, J. and L. Williams. Political Theoly: Classic Writings, Contemp01'a1Y Views, New York: st. Martins, 1992.

Lemos, R. M. Hobbes and Locke. Atlanta: University of Georgia Press, 1978.

Locke, J. The Second Treatise ofGovernment. ed. Thomas P. Reardon. New York: Bobbs-Merill Company, Inc., 1952.

Kavka, G. S. "Hobbes's War Against AU," Ethics. Vol. 93, Issue 2, January 1983.

Simmons, A J. "Locke's State of Nature," Political Theory. Vol. 17, August 1989.

Taylor, A.E. Thomas I-Iobbes. Port Washington: Kennikat Press, 1970.

17

ARENDT AND MACINTYRE ON THE ENLIGHTENMENT'S FAlLURE*

Andrew Janiak

Hampshire College

There is no document of civilization which is not at the same time a document of barbarism.

-Walter Benjamin, Theses on the Philosophy ofHistory

Speaking far outside the realm of political theory, Donald Davidson once claimed that it is only upon some basic agreement that true clisagreement can be founded (Davidson). Though they represent clivergent strains-the continentaland the analytic-within contemporary philosophy, the interpretations of the Age of Enlightenment offered by Hannah Arendt and Alasdair MacIntyre parallel one another in surprising ways. Each characterizes the "Rights of Man"proclaimedby Robespierre andJeffersonas empty, ungrounded and insufficiently protected to found the new moral and political order devised in Europe's 18th century revolutions. With this parallel as a backdrop, I will develop a brief MacIntyrean critique of Arendt to bring her work into better focus. This critique claims Arendt is insensitive to some of the fantastic philosophical upheavals from Aristotle, St. Augustine and Aquinas to Kant, Diderot and Hume that led to the Enlightenment's ultimate demise. I then propose a quick Arendtian response to this cd ticism: wi th an addition of some philosophical work, with a quantitative change, Arendt's Enlightenment work would satisfy the Maclntyrean argument I employ. It then becomes clear that though Arendt can respond to this argument throughsuch quantitati ve changes, the Maclntyreanmight lack such a response to the Arendtian criticisms I propose. To satisfy Arendt, MacIntyre would be required to transform his work, to make not simply quantitative but qualitative, even fundamental, changes in

Janiak is completing his last YCIlr ofstudy at Hlwillsitire Colli~ge. where he com:entmted ill philosophymId TXllitics. Alldrewis currently Editoroftize Five College Journal of Law and Society. He plans OIL pursuing a doctorate ill philosophy at the University of Michigan this fall.

*Many thanks to Professors Meredith Michaels and Nicholas Xenos for their helpful comments on earlier drafts of this paper.


18 ANDREW JANIAK

After Virtue. Though MacIntyre sees the Enlightenment project's failure as philosophical in nature, Arendt characterizes the emptiness of rights rhetoric born from the American and French revolutions as political incharacter. This Arendtian response to MacIntyre facilitates a deeper presentation of some of the more subtle points in Arendt's interpretation of the Enlightenment. From an Arendtian standpoint, MacIntyre mischaracterizes the very nature of the failure embodied in the Age of Enlightenment, the failure that she thought led to the rise of fascism, such as the Nazism she fled and fought throughout the early years of her life.

I. Arendt's Critique of Rights

Hunchback: "You know Marshall, I used tobe a Jew." Marshall: "Oh really? ... I used to be a hunchback."

-Groucho Marx, Groucho at Carnegie Hall

The European revolutions of the 18th century brought the proclamation of a series of rights, such as the rights of man and the citizen in France and rights endowed in every human by their Creator in America. These were extensively explicated and critiqued by Arendt, particularly in the book that made her famous in America, The Origins of Totalitarianism. There, Arendt argues that though the newly established American and French nation-states introduced and claimed to foster human rights, historically they have protected only citizen's or national rights, such that the "loss of national rights in all instances entail[edl the loss of human rights," and, in turn, that human rights could be guaranteed only through "national emancipation" (OT, pp. 299,291).1 As these citizenship rights were extended to increasingly large sections of European and American populations, assirnilationist-rnindedJews on the Continent gladly accepted the barmer of civil rights, as for them it represented the best bulwark against an ever-present European anti-semitism. By the close of the 18th century, bourgeois Jewry often exhibited a great faith, somewhat naive in Arendt's view, in their respective states and a willingness to assimilate themselves into French or German cullure to demonstrate their allegiance to the nations that had recently em an

1 Cf. also Benhabib, S. "Hannah Arendt and the Redemptive Power of Narrative," Social Research Vol. 57 Spring 1990; pp. 167-68.

19 ARENDT AND MAcINTYRE

cipated them.2Jews were willing to "adjustin principle to everything and everybody," a sentiment that meant, in the Europe of the early 19th century, a willingness to accept emancipation and the newly established civil rights as assimilated members of European nationstates (JP, p. 63).

As Arendt demonstrates in her biography, Rahel Vamlzagm, the assimilationists, or parvenus, attempted both social and cultural integration into the European bourgeoisie on individual bases: each denied his or her Jewish identity and became faceless members of civil society (RV, pp. 26, 30, 85; cf. IF, p. 85). In this way, of course, assimilated Jews exemplified the condition of modernity: though they suffered communally at the hands of anti-semitism-that is, it was as Jews that they suffered-they chose to fight this oppression individually, apolitically, as atomized individuals.3 At first, Arendt's Rahel first embraces this tactic of assimilation into German culture by attempting to renounce and to deny, even in the privateness of her diary, her Jewish identity. This attempt ultimately brings her face to face with a paradoxical and deeply disturbing reality: Rahel realizes that to truly assimilate into anti-semitic German or European culture, she must become an anti-semite. At this prospect, Rahel recoils andchooses instead to maintain her Jewishness in the face ofboth the anti-semitism of German culture and the many parvenus who fre,quent her salon (RV, pp. 216, 224). This was, in Arendt's view, an admirable and conscious choice on Rahel's part. In contrast to Rahel's perseverance, many Jews gave in to assimilation, but this very assimilation, if taken to mean a complete integration into bourgeois Christian culture, and the loss of all Jewish characteristics, ended in failure. European Jews could not, despite their best efforts, relinquish their Jewishness.4 Kurt Blumenfeld called this the "objective Jewish question," the inescapability of Judaism for European Jews (Blumenfeld in Young-Bruehl, p. 72).

On a broader historical scale, Arendt's work demonstrates the

~ For the Jewish "faith" in European nation states, see Ron Feldman's introduction to IP, p. 27; for Arendt's comments, see IP, pp. 63-64.

3 For Arendt's view of the atomization prevalent in modernity, see He p. 5~ff, p.21Off

4 Arendt writes of "the history of a hundred and fifty years of assimilatedJewry who performed an unprecedented feat: though proving all the time their nonJewishness, they succeeded in remaining Jews all the same" UP, p.64).

20 ANDREW JANIAK

truly dialectical dilemma of modem Jewry and its relation to the failure of the Enlightenment to establish a moral foundation for politics and a bulwark against recurrent bouts of anti-semitic violence throughout Europe. Under modernity, Jews joined and were swept up ina dialectical movement of great proportions: those Jews who rejected their given pariah status opted to become the assimilated parvenus Rahel knew so welL The pariah Jews rejected the parvenu tactic of assimilation into European bourgeois culture as fervently as their assimilationist cousins defined themselves over andagainst the masses of Europe 'spoor Jewry, especially its Ostjuden. Hence, an antithesis of identities and of social roles grew historically within the Jewish community. particularly for the Jews in Germany that remain Arendt's focus. These antithetical poles of Jewish history and identity were synthesized under Nazism, where all Jews, regardless of social status, were rendered Jews per se and en masse, and murdered as such UP, p. 90). In the concentration camp. we see the final proof that the very pariah/parvenu distinction Jews struggled for two centuries to maintain proved, in the last analysis, irrelevant. 5

This history forms a centerpiece of the Enlightenment and its rights legacy as Arendt saw it, for the only rights available in Europe were national rights. and Jews, even the parvenus, never fully emerged as accepted na tional ci tizens. Here we reach the terrifying possi bility that. ifstripped of their newly -found and still tenuous civil rights. the Jews would sit naked, rightless, vulnerable. On Arendt's view, the Nazis understood and exploited this peculiar situation of European Jewry, a result of the Enlightenment's limited protection of the peoples under its tutelage. Indeed, long before the Final Solution, Hitler's regime moved in the early 1930s to strip Jews of their civil rights as German citizens, which they knew would remove their "legal status" altogether, rendering Jews de facto and de jure rightless (OT, p. 296).6 In Arendt's estimation, the anti-Jewish Nuremberg Laws of1935 violated nothuman but national rights (El, p.268). These political moves of the 30s paved the way, of course, for the rapid expulsion, forced concentration and final extermination of Germany' s

5 As Arendt writes in Eicl111Ul1l1l in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality ofEvt7 , for the Nazis, "aJew is aJew."

(, Cf. also /, p. 138: "In nearly all countries, anti-Jewish action started with stateless persons."


and Europe's Jewish populations.7 It was always stateless Jews, and other so-called enemies of the Reich with refugee status, who met with their death first, for they lacked the only political protection available in Europe at that time. indeed the only protection available since the Enlightenment erupted (EI. p. 191 passim). It is, of course, with great irony that Arendt notes how Adolf Eichmann could only be tried before the Jerusalem court because he too was stateless, a mere foreign national in Argentina, a man unclaimed and unprotected by the Federal Republic of Germany and left to face Israel's judgment (E/. p. 240).

Here Arendt's critique of the Enlightenment and of the rights rhetoric it generated becomes clear: because of the solely national protection of rights, Jews and other refugees stripped oftheir citizenship "had lost those rights which had been thought of and even defined as inalienable, namely the Rights of Man" (OT, p. 268). With respect to the masses of new refugees roaming Europe in the 1930s and early 1940s, Arendt demonstrates how the condition of modern Jewry became the condition of modernity for many Europeans, how the two were suddenly united in their stateless and rightless predicament (JP. p. 20. 66). Arendt emphasizes unequivocally that the Enlightenment's failure to estab Ush and protect human rights set the precedent for this catastrophe. The holocaust brought an end to the cultural distinctions Jews had fostered among themselves, an end to Jewish hope for the future promised under civil emancipation in Europe, indeed the "end of the world" for European Jewry (El, p. 153). And perhaps most radically, it meant the end of the Age of Enlightenment and its legacy.

II. Macintyre's Interpretation of the Enlightenment

With the publication ofAJter Virtue in 1981, Alasdair MacIntyre emerged as a strong critic of the contemporary scene in analytic moral philosophy, particularly of the moral precepts he thought we have inherited from the Aristotelian project of grounding morality in rationality and human nature. We see a close affinity between the Enlightenment critiques of MacIntyre and Arendt: both demonstrate

7 For these three stages in the Nazi program against European Jewry. d. El. chapters 4. 5 & 6.

22 ANDREW JANIAK

the emptiness of contemporary rights rhetoric in relation to the Enlightenment project of extending inalienable or natural Rights to hurnani ty. Though Enlightenment thinkers such as Kant or Jefferson took Rights to be inextinguishable, as the foundational moments of morality and politics, Arendt and MacIntyre both contend that such rights do not exist inherently and that they are dependent onpolitical communities and the social institutions that support them.8 On a grandscale, Arendt and MacIntyre characterize the late-20th century as a "post" era: for MacIntyre "post-Enlightenment," for Arendt "post -tra ditional," an era that is witness to the sinking of Europe and the Americas into moral and intellectual chaos,9 into an age without authority, tradition (Arendt), or the necessary grounding incoherent views of hwnan nature (MacIntyre). Because of these parallels, I want to construct a criticism of Arendt's analysis from within MacIntyre's project, a critique centered on Arendt's view of the Enlightenment, pushing that analysis into greater focus and giving it greater clarity against the background of After Virtue. First, I will briefly outline MacIntyre's narrative of the Enlightenment.

In After Virtue. MacIntyre delineates precisely how moral discourse fell into its present predicament of emptily asserting rights and moral precepts-largely inherited from Arlstotelianism and Christianity-without properly grounding them in coherent conceptions of human nature and rationality. MacIntyre the Aristotelian tra vels, not surprisingly, to fourth century B.C. Athens to unearth the roots of our current condition. In Aristotelian ethics, phronesis, translatable perhaps as practical reason (or wisdom),l0 is posited as the ability to distinguish good ends from imposters, to discern the proper aim of action (praxis) within a moral framework. In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle claims that intelligence [phronesis] is a state of grasping the truth, involving reason, concerned with action about what is good or bad for a human being (NE, p. 154~ 1140b).

g or, "The Decline of the Nation-state and the End to the Rights of Man;" J1V, pp, 66-7. 69, passim,

9 For Maclntyre, this chaos is exemplified, in par~ in emotivism and its moral cousins: d. AV. chapter 1. passim.

10 Terence Irwin's translation of phronesis as "intelligence" migh~ given the contemporary usage of this term and its correlates. be rather misleading. Irwin recognizes the possible problems with this rendering of the term in his translation ofthe Nicomacflearl Ethics at pp. 412-13.

23 ARENDT AND MAcINlYRE

This differs significantly from the contemporary notion of rationality I anability thatuncovers the best route to achieve presupposed ethical aims; for Aristotle, phronesis itself proposes these aims (AV, pp.52-3).

Aristotle also held a teleological view of human development: to remain healthy on the moral, intellectual and spiritual levels, one must progress through particular stages of growth from childhood through old age. Hence Aristotle might argue that Susan ought to, through phronesisl pick those aims that we know contribute to the happiness of people a ther stage oflife-development. Thoughstrenuous exercise may be seen as beneficial at one stage of human life, it might not help an exhausted 80-year old to realize her telas. That is, phronesis distinguishes moral from immoral, or improper, aims through human teleology, through the view of human nature that demonstrates the proper endpoint of human life and the necessary steps wemust take toward reaching our life climax. Finally, Aristotle outlines, in Macintyre' slanguage, various "moral precepts" to guide one toward one's true end, precepts that enable one to develop a virtuous character to guide one in realizing one's felos (A V, pp. 52-3). In MacIntyre's view of Aristotelian ethics, then, the three components of morality derive meaning from their interrelation; separate one from the whole and all quickly lose their coherency and purpose (A V, pp.54-5).

MacIntyre then demonstrates how western moral philosophy moved from this basic Aristotelianism, through the Christianity of Augustine and then Aquinas, into the 18th century and the Enlightenment, resting finally in its present form within contemporary analytic discourse and the wider Euro-American culture.ll He characterizes contemporary culture as having retained only the moral precepts we inherited from the Greeks, as filtered through Christian moral doctrine and its revisions by Enlightenment thinkers such as Hume and Kant, as having lost the very support for those precepts: Aristotelian teleology and phronesis (A V, pp. 54-7). This current predicament stems, inMacintyre' sself-proclaimed "historicist" view. from trends already evident in France in 1640, the site of the fireplace

11 For another broad, historically sensitive philosophical account of the relation of the Enlightenment to the rise of instrumental rationality, seeHorkheimer M. and T. Adorno, Dinleefie ofEnlightenment. New York: Continuum, 1991.

24 ANDREW JANIAK

at which Descartes wrote his Meditations, and at the University of Padua, 'where Galileo fidgeted withhis new telescopes andpeered at the heavens in an astonishing new way. Here, of course, we find the birthplace ofmodern science. With it developed a purely instrumental view ofhuman rationality, a view that replaced phronesis with the Reason that founded science, developed the calculus of Leibniz and N ewton, led to the founding of the American and French republics, and brought to humanity the industrial revolution.12 This newrationality presupposed as already established all human ends and goods, and found the most efficient method of obtaining them, but itself could find no ends (A V, p. 54-7).13 In this analysis, Macintyre rightly po~ts to Hume, whose Treatise on Human Nature appears a good century after this new view ofreason takes shape, as a philosopherwho tookreason to exhibit solely aninstrumental function, with science andmathematics asits obvious territory. 14Reason, for Hume, is "the slave of the passions,"lS a mere efficient calculator of the best Ineans to already-determined moral ends (TBN, III, 3, 3, p. 415). Hence, Hume famously, or perhaps infamously, writes: "'Tis not contrary to reason to prefer the destruction of the whole world to the scratching of my finger" (THN, III, 3, 3, p. 416). This remained significant within western philosophy well into the 19th century, as Nietzsche testifies in 1886 in Beyond Good and Evil, when he claims that "reason is only an instrument" (BGE, 191).

The death of phronesis paralleled the equally significant philosophicalloss of teleology. Aristotle might counsel, for instance, to eat in moderation, for it will prove difficult to remain in the proper physical state in old age if one eats voraciously in one's youth.

12. Interestingly, Arendt chronicles the perhaps parallel development of praxis into modern actior!, a purely instrumental notion whereby the performance itself is irrelevant Cf. HC, pp. 228-30.

1:1 Arendt's discussion of modern science and of the development of modern mathcmntics via instrumental rationality parallels in many ways MacIntyre's own presentation. C' HC, "The Discovery of the ArchimedeanPoin~" and also p. 268ft.

11 Poul Eidclberg suggests that Hobbes can be seen as Hume's historical predecessor in this respect. (For his view ofHobhes, he relies on the Leviathan.) He bemoi:lns the implicationsofthe view that reason is impotent in the face of emotion for 20th century psychology "The Malaise of Modern Psychology," The Journal of J>HycJlOlogy Vol. 126 1992; p. 109ff.

lr, For more on Hume and his 18th century rivals and mentors among the Anglo philosophicnl community, d. MacIntyre, A Short History of Ethics. New York: Macmillan, 1966; chapter 12.

25 ARENDT AND MAcIN1YRE

Because we modemshave lost this perspecti ve on the proper human end-state, and even of the successive stages through which human life ought to proceed, the mere injunction to eat in moderation lacks coherency: it requires rational argument if it is to be followed properly, and it is precisely this that it now must do without.

Macintyre notes, however, that we are not left utterly stranded, that we have retained our inheritance from the Enlightenment, a bag of rights and of Reason supporting them, but in his view this represents a rather problematic inheritance, even a dangerous one (AV, pp. 66-7). MacIntyre argues that we have retained the notion of the Rights of Man developed in the 18th century, but now lack any coherent, rational arguments demonstrating both their existence and their necessary moral and social function in late-20th century western society (AV, 66fj). Yet here is the Enlightenment paradox: it simultaneously removed all authority, all foundation, from under the medieval moral and political order, and attempted, in part through the concept of "rights," to found a new social order without any of the old philosophical foundation. As Arendt writes in "What is Authority?":

the revolutions of the modern age appear like gigantic attempts to repair these foundations, to renew the broken thread of tradition, and to restore, through founding new political bodies, what for so many centuries had endowed the affairs of men with som e measure of dignity and greatness (BPF, p. 140).

Put in crude tenns, the predicament that Arendt would surely recogruze16is that we lack God, the Catholic Church and Aristotelian teleology and phronesis to ground our current moral views, to serve as the foundation and guarantor of what have become hu man rights: we have dismantled the foundation but somehow retained bits and pieces of the roof. Hence, the Enlightenment failed to provide the necessary philosophical grounding for the new order.17 Rights are, of

16 See, e.g., her discussion in "What is Authority" of the end to the Roman stabilizing trinity of religion, authority and tradition (BPE, p. 140).

17InOn Revolution Arendt characterizes modern revolutions assa fundamental, so different from other "mere changes" in political life, that they constitute for her "beginnings" of new orders (OR, p. 21).

26 ANDREW JANIAK

cuurse, protected by and developed from within legal orders, but MacIntyre notes that they lack coherent philosophical support, and therefore could not and cannot serve as the basis for the new moral and political order. Equally, they cannot save us today.18

III. A Quick MacIntyrean Response to Arendt

N ow I can bring into focus a MacIntyrean criticism of Arendt's work on rights and the Enlightenment as a rhetorical device to better explicate that work Both philosophers begin their critiques with the contention that human rights, since the Second World War, have failed to ground moral and political life ,have proven unsuccessful in protecting Vulnerable peoples, and perhaps even lack sufficient coherency and support to bode well for the future. Once we have seen this affinity between their work, the possibility of criticism arises, for while MacIntyre might find much in the theoretical sections of The Origins of Totalitarianism that he concurs with, he might ultimately chide the historically-minded Arendt for failing to sufficiently explicate the deeply rooted philosophical forces within western culture that have led to the emptiness of current moral and political rhetoric. It is precisely because Arendt would be sympathetic to such an account that MacIntyre's disappOintment and subsequent critique might arise. For Macintyre, both Europe's philosophical and historical pasts must be understood if contemporary philosophers are to develop the necessary tools to critique, undermine and replace the current debates over rights with debates centered on virtues. Arendt is by no means ignorant of the history of philosophy, far from it; yet from MacIntyre's perspective, her his

torj~al work in (e.g.) The Origins of Totalitarianism and Eichmann in len/salern is far too caught up in social and political details to notice the broad philosophical picture he implores us to consider. Though she is clearly aware of the death of phronesis and the demise of Aristotelian teleology, she fails to provide this philosophical background in her analysis of the Enlightenment's failure. This failure was ltl.ade possible not simply by European historical events, but also by centuries of the slow erosion of our philosophical heritage,

18 Arendtargues that the Declaration of the Rights ofMan was indeed intended to found a new political order for France, and perhaps evenfor Europe (OR. p. 109).


leaving only the foam of empty rights at the brim of our collective cup. Thus, I do not take MacIntyre-the-historicist to reject the political history Arendt provides as irrelevant, but as insufficient, requiring more philosophical analysis and more work in the history of philosophy.19 For MacIntyre, a historico-philosophical understanding of this event will secure us, on a communal level, from contemporary "barbarism," the very barbarism that Arendt spent her life chronicling and fighting (AV, p. 263).

This MacIntyreanresponse to Arendt's work is, I think, susceptible to what one might call a quantitative solution on Arendt's part. Precisely because the Arendt of The Human Condition is aware of the rise of instrumental rationality, the use of reason by Descartes and Galileo and the end to Aristotelian teleology and the Greek virtues, she might integrate more of these philosophical elements into her critique of the Enlightenment developed in The Origins ofTotalitarianism and elsewhere. As Arendt provides the sort of political history MacIntyre characterizes as important, even crucial, to an understanding of our present predicament, her work requires philosophical supplementation to satisfy MacIntyre's criticism. In fact, On Revolution looks similar to the sort of histolico-philosophical work MacIntyre alludes to-here Arendt recognizes the very sort of "philosopher-influence" on political events MacIntyre chides social historians for down-playing in their scholarship:

By the same token, I am inclined to think that it was precisely the great amount of theoretical concern and conceptual thought lavished upon the French Revolution by Europe's thinkers and philosophers which conhibuted decisively to its world-wise success, despite its disastrous end (OR, pp. 219-20).

This MacIntyrean push on Arendt reveals that her work on the Enlightenment could be supplemented by more extensive philosophical exegesis on her part.

19 For MacIntyre, of course, unless we see our p hilosophica\ ills, we will not see a new Aristotelianism as the cure to these ills.

28 ANDREW JANIAK

IV. Arendt's Counter-Critique

Deutschland, Deutschland Uber alles was, I fear, the end of German Philosophy.

-Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight ofthe Idols Arendt is famous for resisting labels. Is she a Jew, existentialist,

Zionist, Nietzschean, modernist, postmodernist, political theorist, Heideggerian, or historian?20 In response to Gershom Scholem's question on how to place her, Arendt herselffamously wrote: "If I can be said to 'have come from anywhere,' it is from the tradition of German phil'o sophy" (Encounter, in Hinchman, p. 435). As might be expected, some recent commentators, such as Dana Villa, argue that her work has strong Heideggerian and Nietzschean elements, rejecting, for example, the claim that she represents a mOdern-day Aristotelian, a view apparently defended by Habermas in the past (Villa, 274ff). Jeffrey Isaac, in turn, chides Villa for ignoring Arendt's extensive work on "anti-Semitism, imperialism, the Holocaust, the Stalinist usurpation of revolutionary politics, the Cold War balance of terror, the' crIses of the republic,'" work he apparently considers far more important than the philosophical exegesis in Between Past and future Dnd '! he Human Condition that Villa must rely heavily on for his interpretation (Isaac, p. 535). Without attempting to settle this question-which, in part, seems interesting only in the context of the modern-day Arendt industry within academia-I think it fair to say that she had significant political and historical concerns throughout much of her mature life. I refer to this problem of placement only because part of Macintyre's criticism above derives from my characterization, from what I think might be his perspective, of Arendt as an "historicist," or at least as an historically-minded philosopher. I will now generate an Arendtian response to MacIntyre. In doing so

2(1 For


I will forego the rather obvious move of having her reject the historicist label a MacIntyrean might pin on her in favor of a more detailed, critical response concerning philosophical methodology and, specifically, the proper mode of analysis for dealing with the Enlightenment's failure, an event that, in part, led to the barbarism both Arendt and MacIntyre identify as a principal component of contemporary intellectual and moral life.

As noted, MacIntyre explicitly adopts an historicist label: he considers philosophical arguments and developments within a broad historical context, remaining sensitive to significant cultural divergence among the British, French, German, Dutch and other philosophers whose work he represents. For an Arendtian, this approach is far more admirable than the ahistorical, and possibly more narrow, exegetical work of Anglo-American analytic philosophers, MacIntyre's colleagues. Hence the Arendtian criticism of MacIntyre concerns neither the relevance of history for philosophy, nor the success of the Enlightenment, but is deeper and more substantial than these, involving the very nature ofthe failure they both see in the 18th century articulation of Rights as the guarantors of a stable moral system, indeed as the very found a tion of politics for Europeans and Americans. For MacIntyre, this is principally a philosophical failure, albeit an historically grounded one. This claim becomes the crux of my Arendtian critique of MacIntyre.

In Arend.t's view, the divorce of phHosophy from politics by Plato, a separation upheld by nearly every western philosopher in what she calls "the tradition," met swiftly with its demise in the mid19th century with Marx's last thesis on Feuerbach: "The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point is to change it" (Marx, p. 158}.21 Though she may feeinostalgiafor what we have lost of the philosophical legacy of Plato and Aristotle,22 Arendt does welcome a politically-minded, histOrically-specific philosophy, an enterprise combining masses of historical data with

11 In Arendt's view, serious difficulties and confusions have resulted from philosophers' ignorance of the political: for e.g., considering freedom to be

30 ANDREW JANIAK

broadphilosophical insights , integrating critiques ofindi vidual members of the Nazi party with long exegeses of the basic underpinnings of Nazism. Arendt's critique of the Enlightenment must be placed within this framework, for she considers the failure of the JudeoChristian tradition in the 20th century to be political innature, and not philosophical, as in MacIntyre's work. In investigating totalitarianism, the climax of this moral collapse, Arendt writes that "the event illuminates its own past," for her a political past: her characters are not principally Hume, Diderot and Kant, Aristotle, Augustine and Aquinas, but Goring, Himmler and Eichmann, Dreyfus, Rhodes and Lazare (Young-Bruehl, p. 203).23

It is here that I can construct Arendt's principal critique of MacIntyre: he reads Kant but not Hirnmler, Hurne but not Rhodes, a fact that blinds him to the fantastic political failure of the Enlightenment to protect, through rights, the Jews and other peoples that became the focal point of the Nazi genocidal program. For Arendt, MacIntyre does not venture sufficiently far from traditional philosophy into the tombs of modern history, into anti-semitism, imperialism, racism, into the volumes that chronicle the concentration camps, where the JudeO-Christian legacy of founding morality on rights was slowly but surely murdered. I must emphasize here "sufficiently far," for it is precisely MacIntyre's first steps into historically-based philosophy that open him to Arendt's criticism. It would surely be useless. if not comedic, to criticize, say, W.V.O. Quine for ignoring relevant political events in his .investigations into set theory or symbolic logic. But MacIntyre takes seriously the notion of his toricism,24 he considers the Enlightenment's failure to be historically specific, and would presumably criticize his colleagues for ignoring relevant cultural differences among 18th century philosophers, for instance, or for missing the historical development of whatis considered rational support for a philosophical position. It is precisely this

2JThis is not to say, of course, that because the failure was political, philosophy is irrl'ievant for Arendt. She claimed, in fact, that philosophy too is not entirely free of guilt for the Holocaust: "Not of course, in the sense that Hitler somehow had something to do with Plato. ". Butin the sense that occidental philosophy never had a pure conceptof poli tics and could not have such a concept because italways spoke of Man and never dealt with human plurality" (Arendt in Young-Bruehl, p. 255).

2j See especially AV, chapter 18, where MacIntyre explicitly proclaims his historicism.

31 ARENDT AND MAciNTYRE

that makes Arendt's criticism of MacIntyre's work so powerful, for

. he largely ignores the historical movements to which he claims to be

sensitive. I do think I can develop a MacIntyrean response to this criticism,

in part because he has been criticized along somewhat similar lines by Abraham Edel, of whom MacIntyre writes:

The gist of his criticism is ... that I focus too much attention upon the level of explicit theorizing, articulated concepts, and the stories told about their conditionby various peoples and not enough on the actual social and institutional life of those peoples (A V, p. 271).

To Edel's sentiment MacIntyre first retorts that social history must be far more sensitive to theoretical development than it appears to be at present; his work is a step in this direction. Secondly, he admits that Edel is in part correct in his criticism, for the narrative of After Virtue, i.e. the story of western moral philosophy and its apparent downfall, would certainly benefit from more "social and institutional history," history that, MacIntyre admits, he largely presupposes in this project (A V, pp. 271-2). Frorn MacIntyre's view, Isuppose,he could have said far more ofHume'sScotland,Aristotle's Athens, the founding of the American and French republics, the industrial revolution, and pe!haps even the rise of fascism. He thinks that more history would strengthen his narrative; hence he takes Edel's criticism to be principally quantitative in character.

This response to Edel allows me to sharpen what I think would be Arendt's critique ofthemethodology impli cit in After Virtue. I take Macintyre and Arendt to agree in principle that rights rhetoric, both that prevalent in the 18th century, and its contemporary form, to be lacking in validity, or to be what we might call empty. For MacIntyre, this emptiness is philosophical, owing its existence to the failure of moral philosophers to ground rights in. human nature and human rationality, to make rights and the moral precepts they entail and presuppose philosophically substantial, strong enough to weather the coming storm. Arendt rejects this notion, for she unequivocally states that human rights never found sufficient grounding, not in

32 ANDREW JANIAK

humannature and rationality, but in politics, for the era of the 1930s, that

period of political disintegration [that] suddenly and unexpectedly made hundreds of thousands of human beings homeless, stateless, outlawed, and unwanted ... could only have happened because the Rights of Man, which hadneverbeenphilosophically established but merely formulated, which had never been politically secured butmerely proclaimed, have, in their traditional form, lost all validity (0, p. 447).

From Arendt's viewpoint, in thinking the emptiness of rights is philosophicat, MacIntyre commits a qualitative, indeed fundamental error, one not amenable to repair through the mere quantitative measures he proposes in response to Edel's attack.

For an Arendtian,. After Virtue represents a deep mischaracterization, not only of the Enlightenment project, but of our prese:lt moral and political condition, of the post-tradition era we now inhabit. For it is not the present emotivist culture, as lvlacIntyr


--. [RV] Rahel Varnhagen: The life of a Jewish Woman. Trans. R. Winston and C. Winston. New York Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich,1974.

--. rOT] The Origins ofTotalitarianism. New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1975.

--. [IP] The Jew As Pariah: Jewish Identity and Politics in the Modem Age. ed. R. Feldman. New York: Random House, 1978.

--. [LM] The Life oftheMind. NewYork Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1978.

[NE] Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. trans. Terence Irwin. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985.

Benhabib, S. "Hannah Arendt and the Redemptive Power of Narrative." Social Research Vol. 57, Spring 1990.

Davidson, D. "On the Very Idea of a Conceptual Scheme." Inquiries Into Truth and Inte11'retation. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984.

Eidelberg, P. "The Malaise of Modern Psychology." The Joumal of Psychology Vol. 126, 1992.

Hinchman, L. P. and S. K. Hinchman. "Arendt's Debt to Jaspers." Review of Politics VoL 53, 1991.

Bonnie H. "The Politics of Agonism." Political Theory Vol 21, 1993.

Horkheimer, M. and T. Adorno. Dialectic of Enlightenment. New York: Continuum, 1991.

[THN] Hume, D. A Tl'eatise on Human Nature. ed. L.A. Selby-Bigge. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975.

Isaac, J. "Situating Hannah Arendt on Action and Politics." Political Theory Vol. 21, 1993.

[SHE] MacIntyre, AA Short History ofEthics. New York Macmillan, 1966.

34 ANDREW JANIAK

[A V] After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984 (2nd edition).

--.lWJ] Whose Justice? Which Rationality? Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1988.

Marx, K. Karl Marx: Selected Writings. ed. D. McLellan. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984.

[BGE] Nietzsche, F. Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to aPhilosophy ofthe Futu1"e. trans. R.J. Hollingdale. New York: Penguin, 1990.

Villa, D. R. "Beyond Good and Evil: Arendt, Nietzsche, and the Aestheticization of Political Action." Political Theory Vol. 20, 1992:

--. "Postmodernism and the Public Sphere." American Political Science Review Vol. 86, Issue 3,1992.

Young-Bruehl, E. Hannah Arendt: For Love afthe World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982.

35

THE ORIGIN OF AN INQUIRY:

EVOLUTIONARY EPISTEMOLOGY IN JAMES' PRAGMATISM

J. Ellis Perry IV

University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth

"Much struck." That was Darwin's way of saying that something he observed

fascinated him, arrested his attention, surprised or puzzled him. The words "much struck" riddle the pages of both his Voyage ofthe Beagle and his The Origin of Species, and their appearance should alert the reader that Darwin was saying something important. Most of the time, the reader can infer that something Darwin had observed was at variance with what he had expected, and that his fai th in some alleged law or general principle hadbeen shaken, and this happened repeatedly throughout his five year sojourn on the H.M.S. Beagle. The "irritation" of his doubting the theretofore necessary truths of natural history was Darwin's stimulus to inquiry, to creative and thoroughly original abductions.

"The influence of Darwin upon philosophy resides in his ha ving conquered the phenomena of life for the principle of transi tion, and thereby freed the new logic for application to mind and morals and life" (Dewey p. 1). While it would be an odd fellow who would disagree with the claim of Dewey and others that the American pragmatist philosophers were to no small extent influenced by the Darwinian corpus,! few have been willing to make the case for Darwin's influence on the pragmatic philosophy of William James. Philip Wiener, in his well known work, reports that

Thanks to Professor Perry's remarks in his definitive work on James, "the influence of Darwin was both early and profound, and its effects crop up in unexpected quarters."

Perry is a senior at the University of Massachusetts at Dartmoltth. Hc will join the Cwtre Jor Philosophy, Technology and Society at the University of AberdcC1l, Scotland this jaIl, where he will commence reading Jor a1l M. Wt. in Philosophy.

I There is no dearth of references for the impact of Darwin upon philosophy, American or otherwise.


36 J. ELLIS PERRY IV

But that being said, Wiener proceeds to "trace James' use of the Darwinianideaofevolutionin Uames'] magnumopus, ThePl'inciples ofPsychology," beyond which tomes Wiener felt no need to trespass (as is clearly evinced by Wiener's choice of sources and citations) (Wiener, p. 104). It is neither my intention to discuss why Wiener decided to confine his investigation of James' Darwinism to The Principles, nor whether Wiener was indeed justified in that decision. Yet while reading the collectionofJames' 1906-1907 Lowell Institute lectures (thereafter published as Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways afThinking) , Iwas "muchstruck" by their Darwinianfeel, by their Darwinian-sounding phrases, and by their general resonance with the theory ofevolution via descentwithmodification-"natural selection." Whatever Wiener's reason for forsaking Pragmatismand I suspect some over-reliance on the advice of R.B. Perry had something to do with it-it seems to me that he ought not have.

Though Wiener's book is in many respects the seminal work on the relationship between Darwin and the founders of the American philosophical tradition known broadly as pragmatism, it is not the only work that treats of this subject, and Wiener is not alone in his virtual abandonment of Pragmatism in favor of other sources for insights to James' dalliance with Darwin. Cynthia Eagle Russett, in her Da1ilJin In America: The Intellectual Response 1865-1912, cites Pragmatism only once,2 and Peter J. Bowler neglects Pragmatism entirely. thereafter offering only the most pithy citations from James' Principles. And while Michael Ruse (in his stimulating Taking Darwin Seriously) was considerably more generous inhis treatment of James than either Russett or Bowler-Ruse actually cites Pragmatism inhis bibliography-he, too, did not apparently find the Lowell Institute lectures as interesting a source for James' Darwinism as I have.

The important question that this raises is: Are these authors justified in leaving Pragmatism out ojtheirpot'tt'ait of James as aDarwininfluenced philosopher? And while this question is quite germane to my present agenda, I propose to answer itonlyby way ofofferingmy own celebration of what seems to me to be James' genuine evolution

2 James: "To determine a thought's meaning, we need only consider what conduct it is fitted to produce." To her credit, she chose a passage which has a good Darwinian word in it, that is, "fitted." The means-end relationship here is consistent with my observations about James' Darwinian thinking, apropos adaptation, adaptive traits, &c.

37 THE ORIGIN OF AN INQUIRY

ary epistemology.3 Should I succeed in convincing the reader that there is much Darwinian thought in James' Pragmatism, and more importantly, that James' remarks on common sense are best appreciated when read from a Darwinian point of view, then I feel that I will have demonstrated that the above mentioned treatments of James are, on this head, deficient.

Some perambulatory remarks are necessary: I believe that Darwinian evolution may be an invaluable way to

frame what James had to say about, among other things, common sense. While Wiener has focused almostexc1usively onhowDarwin's work influenced James' physiological psychology-and I think Wiener implies: by that route, James' philosophy-I hope to show how James' thoughts on common sense can best be appreciated if one thinks about them in terms of Darwinian evolution. It is, of course, too easy to impose upon James evolutionary ideas which could scarcely be called outgrowths of James' reading of Origin (&c.); and to this extent these would not be, properly speaking. Darwinian in origin. I have been careful not to use (e.g.) post-evolutionary synthesis ideas about molecular genetics to bring out the "evolutionism" in James' pragmatism-even when these ideas genuinely resonate with the spirit of Darwin's own evolutionary theories.

Pragmatism has long been esteemed as one of the classics of this nation's indigenous philosophy. Ifour appreciation of Pragmatism is to survive, if the slim tome is not to become extinct from the shelves of college bookstores-or from syllabi-then we might wish to consider the advantages of adapting our reading of it-in spite of Wiener (et al.).

I. Evolutionary Epistemology: What is it?

The history of the use of the word' evolution' is itself interesting; and were it not question-begging I would begin by saying that the word has undergone considerable evolution before and since Dar

3 Ruse rejects thatJ ames ever adieu Ie ted an "eval u Honary ep istemology." This, however, has as much to do withdisagreements about what precisely "evolutionary epistemology" is, as it does with (a) what James had to say about knowledge, ( b) whatJames had to say abou t evolution and Darwin and (c) whatJames meant when he said it!

38 J. ELLIS PERRY IV win.4 For our purposes, we may define' evolution' simply as achange in form or behavior over time. To explain "evolutionary epistemology" is a somewhat easier task, thanks to the new Blackwell '5 Companion to Epistemology, which devotes three pages to the subject. Excerpts from the first two paragraphs (for our present purpose) do an admirable job of summing it up:

This is an approach to the theory of knowledge that sees an important connection between the growth of knowledge and biological evolution. An evolutionary epistemolOgist claims that the development of human knowledge proceeds through some natural selection process, the best example of which is Darwin's theory of biological natural selection. The three major components of the model of natural selection are variation, selection and retention ... [T]hose variations that perform useful functions are selected, while those that do not are not selected ... In the modem theory of evolution, genetic mutations provide the (random, non-directed] variations ... the environment provides the filter of selection, and reproduction provides the retention ... Evolutionary epistemology applies this blind variation and selecti ve retention model to the growth of scientific knowledge and to thought processes in general (Blackwell, p.122).

The "evolution" part is sometimes meant quite literally (d. Steven Toulmin), while others intend only that knowledge, knowledge acquisition, "belief fixing," obtain in an evolutionary sort of way: Beliefs vary. and these differing beliefs "compete" for limited attentional resources, for scarce cognitive space, for some functional role in our lives. Some of these beliefs, owing to their present fitness -Le.: their tried-and-true value in our lives-fare the struggle for survival better than other beliefs; these beliefs are the ones that are kept-and vvhich go on to support the production of other beliefs, which will ensemble prOVide the firmament for future abductions.

4 Curiously, Darwin does not use the word "evolution" once in the first edition (1859) of Origin. The closest he comes is the cognate "evolved "-it is the last ward ill tlze book.


Literal application of the theory of evolution to epistemic matters is fraught with difficulties: First, "knowledge" is lumped together with the set"all organic beings" and then the laws believed to obtain for the laUer are applied to the former. A less objectionable exploitation of evolutionary principles (as described above) is as a model for how persons fix beliefs (or, for how beliefs seem to get fixed), since the principles of evolutionS are taken strictly heuristically.

The claim, then, is that the value of our reading James' Pragmatism is enhanced if we understand it as an attempt to articulate a theory ofknowledge which is based inpart on the Darwinianmodel of evolution.6 I will endeavor to unearth for the reader key passages in the chapter on common sense which support my claim that James intended his audience at the Lowell Institute to be thinking about Darwinandhis principles of biological evolution. I am assuming that James accepted Darwinism, accepted the argument that species evolved from a single common ancestor, that he rejected creationism as well as Lamarckism (&c.) as alternative accounts of the origin of species. A good question to ask at the outset, then, is this: What sorts ofbeliefs about the world would someonewho accepted Darwinian evolution be likely to have? And one sort of answer is this: uniformitarianism and actualisltL.

II. "Uniformitarianism" and "Actualism"

Without going into great detail, it shouldbe recalled that the way for Darwin's evolutionary model andmechanism was paved in part by the geologists of the earlier part of that century, who, challenging Usher's pronouncement that the world was created by God in the year 4004 B.C., attempted:

(1) to establish that the age of the earthwasmuchgreater than

5 While there is much agreement within the field. evolutionary biologists (to include molecular geneticists working on evolutionary problems). there is still much disElgreement about (e.g.. ) whether natural selection oc neutral drift is the leading cause ofevaluHon. how species ought to bequalified. &c. Itwould be wrong to believe tha t there is one andonly one" evol u tionary theory." I am gra teful tha ~ for the purpose of this paper. I shall not need to trespass too far beyond the wellestablished and generally accepted core of post-evolutionary synthesis thought.

6 An additional daim is. of course, implied, namely that Wiener (et al.) erred by not reading Pragmatism with Darwin in mind.

40 J. ELLIS PERRY IV

that affirmed by ecclesiastical authority, and (2) that the physical characteristics of the earth were the result

of natural phenomena, and not supernatural megaphenomena. The rejection ofvarious "Vulcanist" and UNeptunian" catastrophic

theories was made possible chiefly through the efforts of James Hutton and Charles Lyell? whose separate efforts combined in time for Darwin to have a world which was both old enough and inherently dynamic enough to be the stage for evolution. According to uniformitarianism, "processes now seen by humans to operate could have operated when humans were not watching." (Ridley, p. 43). Uniformitarianism was, among other things, an argument against the necessity of supernatural causes. The earthquakes and volcanoes, storms and mud slides that now occur throughout the world have probably always gone on; and given enough time, these forces could have molded the present landscape like so much putty. There was no need to postulate God's creative hand in shaping the mountains, in carving out the valleys; time and the mundane physical forces such as those now known could have given our planet its complexion. Darwin betrays his uniformitarianism in Voyage, when he relates his experience of witnessing an earthquake while at Concepcion:

A bad earthquake at once destroys our oldest associations: the earth, the very emblem of solidity, has moved beneath our feet like a thin crust over a fluid -one second of time has created in the mind a strange idea of insecurity, which hours of reflection would not have produced. (VB, p. 303).8

Do we find any evidence that James espoused the uniformitarian hypothesis? Yes, though admittedly, trivially so; it would be more strange for a man of science such as James to not have accepted Lyelliangeology. Be that as it may, there is one passage in "Pragma

7 My chief source of information about Hutton, Lyell and the birth of historical geography has been The DiscovenJ of Time. Consult index for pertinent passages.

8 I think that it is interesting that Peirce, also a child of the 19th century's "evolutionism," wrote: "That single events should be hard and unintelligible, logic will permit without difficulty: we do not expect to make the shock of a personally experienced earthquake appear natural and reasonable by any account of cogitation" (The Doctrine ofNecessity Examined, 1892).


tism and Common Sense" that clearly suggests that James wished to remind his audience of the value of unifonnitarian theories as such, apart from their well-known application in historical geology:

New truths are ... resultants of new expeliences and of old truths combined and mutually modifying one another. And since this is the case ofchanges ofopinions oftoday, there is not reason to assume that it has not been so at all times (p. 78).

That is: the habits of mind, the peculiarities of mental life, the way in which persons think about the world, has not changed. But why should it be important for

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Vol. V, May 1994