Dr. Groth’s criticism
I take to be this: that some of the historical figures whom I count as
allies as respects the belief in reason are really opponents, and that
some of the figures I named as enemies are really friends who deserve
something better than the cold stare I gave them. I hailed unbelievers,
and snubbed those of the true faith. Plato, Aquinas, and Hegel did not
believe in the sort of reason I was trying to espouse, though it is
often supposed they did; the Sophists did believe in it, though it is
commonly supposed they did not.
It is plain that all
depends here on what one means by “reason.” As to its meaning in the
address in question I took some pains to be clear. I explained that by
reason I meant an activity of mind that followed the path of an
objective necessity. This necessity is sometimes that which links the
terms of a proposition, as in “whatever is red is extended”; sometimes
it is that which links propositions themselves, as it is when I follow a
train of deductive reasoning. In both cases, however, this necessity
was conceived as belonging to the nature of things; it is no figment of
our own contriving. And I contended that in reason at its best our
thought moves as it does because the pattern of this objective necessity
guides and controls it. To hold otherwise, to say that thought is
completely controlled by pushes and pulls from within our own bodies or
minds, would be to deny that there was any such thing as the reason I
was defending.
Now Dr. Groth thinks
it is unhistorical to attribute the belief in reason, so conceived, to
Plato. I am almost speechless. I had thought that the belief in reason
in just this sense was written all over the Platonic philosophy. Take
one corner of it only, Plato’s view of mathematics. Mathematical
thinking provided a model for the philosopher and played an essential
part in the dialectic. In the Meno it is used as the prime
example of demonstrative thinking; in the Republic, Book VI, it
illustrates διάνοια, one of the two stages of γνορισ or ‘επιστήμη, both
of which give genuine knowledge or understanding as opposed to mere δόξα.
There can be no doubt that Plato believed all of the following things
about mathematical thinking: (1) that by means of it we apprehend
concepts or “ideas” which are part of the framework of the real world;
(2) that the relations which link these concepts are necessary
relations; and (3) that when in thought we follow the path of such a
relation, our thought is moving under the influence of its object. If
Plato did believe these things, he believed in reason in the sense in
which I defended it.
Why does Dr. Groth
doubt this conclusion? So far as I can see, for two reasons. He thinks
(1) that when Plato used the terms which are traditionally translated as
“reason,” he had in mind a kind of knowledge that was much more mystical
and more dubious, and (2) that he admitted an appeal to intuition, which
is inconsistent with the appeal to reason in my sense.
As for (1) there is
no doubt much truth in it. When Plato referred to the work of reason he
did often include in his meaning properties and processes (for example,
ανάμνησισ) that no modern rationalist would accept. But what then? The
fact that he believed in reason in other and more complicated senses is
no evidence against the view that he accepted it also in my sense, which
I hold that he clearly did. Nor is this sense a secondary one in his
system; it is, as already argued, central and essential.
As for (2), namely
that Plato admitted the appeal to intuition, I must reply once more that
this seems to me both true and irrelevant. By intuition I mean the
apprehension of truth which is certain independently of argument or of
any evidence outside itself. Many rationalists have accepted intuition
as so defined. Why shouldn’t they? Why cannot necessity reveal itself
between the terms of a single proposition? Even if one is the kind of
rationalist who holds that necessity reveals itself only within a
system, still the insight that the system does cohere is itself an
intuition. It is hard to see how rationalism of any kind can escape the
appeal to intuition, nor why it should try to escape it.
Dr. Groth thinks that
he sees why. He finds something dangerous in the appeal to intuition.
“I know of no tyranny,” he writes, “that was not frankly ‘intuitional’
at base . . . the Nazi notions of ‘race’ or ‘blood’ are akin to the
Platonic νους.” Dr. Groth is not alone in this feeling; certain
instrumentalists have lately made similar statements. They would rule
out “self-evident truth” as not only logically illegitimate but as fat
with the seeds of irresponsible egoism and authoritarianism. The
consequences of this view are interesting. Thomas Jefferson, who, in
the first charter of our democracy, expressed a cordial belief in such
truths, was a potential Nazi; men like Bishop Butler and Henry Sidgwick
stood for irresponsible self-assertion, for the very odd reason that
they claimed to have intuitions that such self-assertion was wrong; the
Christian who claims to see immediately that love is better than cruelty
has, so far, a case no better than that of the Nietzschean who claims to
see the opposite; Descartes, who believed that isolated propositions
could be seen to be absolutely true, was more of an authoritarian than
Hegel, who did not. The fact is surely that there is no opposition at
all between the appeal to reason and the appeal to intuition; intuition,
in the cases just cited, is merely one embodiment of reason. Of course
there are bastard forms of intuition just as there are fraudulent forms
of reason, but it is no argument against a valid way of thinking that it
is likely to be abused. Intuition and discursive reason are both sound
modes of thought, and when valid they are mutually supporting.
The mention of Hegel
reminds me that he also, together with Aquinas, is a philosopher whom I
regarded, mistakenly in Dr. Groth’s opinion, as an ally. Again I admit
that both these philosophers held theories about the nature of reason
that would go beyond my own slight characterization of it. But that
they would accept the leading features of that characterization seems to
me beyond question. I should defend myself here again very much as I
did about Plato.
Dr. Groth thinks that
though these philosophers did not accept reason in my sense, the
sophists did, and that I should have welcomed them as allies rather than
condemned them as enemies; Protagoras in particular is said to belong on
my side. The famous άνθροπος μετρον πάντον is more innocent than it
sounds. “The phrase ‘man is the measure of all things,’” writes Dr.
Groth, “implies man as using the materials and instruments he has to
work with to improve his lot on earth . . . .” I do not think this will
do. The context of Protagoras’ thought indicates that it meant far more
than this, and something far more skeptical. For Protagoras the sole
source of knowledge was sense perception, and what we got from sense
perception depended on our organism. Indeed it depended on the
particular state of our organism here and now; the relativism was
thoroughgoing, as the Theaetetus (152a) makes clear. The grasp
of an objective necessity, common to all men, is decisively ruled out by
this theory of knowledge; a passage in Aristotle (Met. 998a),
referring to Protagoras’ “refutation of the geometers” suggests that he
explicitly argued against the possibility of mathematical knowledge.
There has, of course, been much dispute over whether the sophists
deserved the rough handling they received from Plato and Aristotle, but
is there any serious question as to the skepticism implied in their
teachings regarding a universal, objective, and necessary reason? I can
hardly suppose so. And that is the sort of reason I defend.
I should like to
thank Dr. Groth for giving me the opportunity of adding a postscript to
my address.
Posted April 10, 2007
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