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How
the Cold War Transformed
Philosophy of Science
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The desire for
precision has led for the moment to a restriction of the
field covered; and in this sense the movement does not
at present deal with certain significant humanistic and
philosophic problems.
Charles Morris, p.
75,
How the Cold War Transformed Philosophy of Science,
George Reisch,
Cambridge, 2005 |
Reisch's book by and large confirms my speculations about analytic philosophy's rise to
dominance in American universities -- though in one major respect it
requires me to change my view. It should be read along with
McCumber's Time in the Ditch, Mirowski's Machine Dreams,
and (presumably) Schrecker's No Ivory Tower (which I
haven't read yet). These books show how the politically-motivated incentives both positive (fellowships and
targeted grants) and negative (firings, threats of prosecution)
moved philosophy and other academic disciplines in directions
compatible with liberal interventionism and with anti-populist
administrative liberalism. Philosophy, in particular, moved in the
direction of specialization, scientism,
value-neutrality, and political non-involvement -- rather than
toward any substantive political view, whether liberal or
conservative.
Reisch focuses on the logical empiricists
(often called logical positivists) of the Vienna Circle, scarcely
mentioning Russell,
Wittgenstein,
or Popper.
The book also includes premonitions of a further transition (when the
logical positivists, in their turn, were also elbowed aside by a later
tendency represented by Quine and Nelson Goodman) but this
topic is not developed. My recent scattered reading of the
logical positivists, for example
Reichenbach
on temporality and indeterminism, has has given me more sympathy for
them -- they were much more willing to do "big picture" philosophy
than their obsessively-meta successors were. (Otto_Neurath,
an amazing guy, deserves special mention).
I've thought for a long time that the key development for
early-fifties American philosophy was the suppression of public
philosophy (and normative thinking generally) and its replacement by
a
value-neutral quasi-scientific specialist discourse, and Reisch's book confirms my opinion on
this point. The political goal of this
transition, as I understood it, was not conservative philosophy, but
politically- and ethically-null philosophy which would battle against
more engaged philosophies, and Reisch also gives support to this
conclusion. However, his book complicates my understanding of the
way things happened. My earlier opinion was that
the apolitical logical positivists muscled out
the more engaged pragmatists, but the truth is that several of the
logical empiricists wanted philosophy to be politically engaged, and
they too were defeated when American philosophy was transformed --
and it was Sidney Hook, a pragmatist student of Dewey's, who took the
lead in purging philosophy of those who were insufficiently
anti-Communist.
John Dewey briefly worked with the logical
empiricists on their Encyclopedia of Unified Science, and his
disagreements with his collaborators are significant. Dewey's belief that a scientific philosophy should be
a politically
progressive (or "left") public philosophy was not a
problem for the logical empiricists, but his rejection of the physics of model of science
was, and he also did not think, as the logical empiricists did, that normative principles are
non-cognitive, axiomatic (or absolute), and thus not subject to
philosophical investigation or development. Dewey's attempt to break
down the fact-value distinction was apparently almost unique.
Among the academic disciplines, McCarthyism hit philosophy especially hard, as
McCumber has also pointed out, and the outcome was to define
philosophy per se as apolitical or passively liberal, while also
discouraging extra-curricular
political involvement (especial of a leftist sort). It must be
noted, however, that many of the logical empiricists (notably
Carnap) did continue their left political activities even after they
had been threatened with investigation.
It's hard not to feel an animus against Sidney
Hook's role in all this. In the name of freedom of thought, he
began with the already-doubtful claim that Communist Party members
should be fired because they were unfree and incapable of valid
philosophy, and ended up arguing threateningly that
non-Communist philosophers should be careful not to take positions
too similar to the Communist position (pp. 278-82). From a
nationalist, statist, or militarist point of view Hook's argument is
unexceptional, but it's Orwellian to argue for the suppression of
certain kinds of ideas (and not just party membership) in the name of freedom of thought.
Compared to the Communist or fascist purges, the
effects of McCarthyism were fairly mild -- the number of actual
firings and prosecutions was not terribly large. The transformation of philosophy was effected mostly at the level of hiring,
promotion, grants, and fellowships (notably at the semi-military
RAND Corp.). Furthermore, philosophers were not actively recruited
into any political program, and few (or no) philosophers changed their
philosophical teachings in response to external pressures. Philosophers who fit the new analytic mold found themselves
prospering, while those whose work did not fit saw their careers
faltering. Leftist philosophers who survived did so by directing their attentions
mostly toward their
nonpolitical, non-social interests.
In my opinion, the philosophers whose careers were
ruined were not the primary victims of McCarthyism. The primary
victim was American philosophy itself, which has
been stunted and impoverished ever since the Fifties.
The positive markers of post-McCarthy philosophy
were professionalization, scientism, and a tendency toward
formalization; the negative markers were a withdrawal from
politics (and public philosophy) and a "decline of debate over
questions about values and the discipline's responsibilities to
these questions" (p. 345). Reisch (p. 356) sums up Reichenbach's
position thus: "There can be
no scientific ethics, consequently, because ethical premises are
essentially volitional and subjective";
and according to Reisch (p. 361), for Feigl 'not only science, but all intellectual pursuits
were fully independent of ethics and moral concerns".
The losers of this game were not only the
Deweyite pragmatists, but also many of the logical empiricists:
"[Morris, Frank, and Neurath] opposed, and were out of step with,
not only the moral and political absolutism of anticommunism, but an
institutional and disciplinary absolutism that would isolate
philosophy of science from interaction with other disciplines and
areas of culture" (p. 379). Reisch's judgment is that "While these
pronouncements signal one kind of depoliticization of philosophy of
science, they also signal a different kind of repoliticization....a
retreat not from politics, but rather from dissent... " (pp. 345,
349).
The geopolitical and military context is
inescapable. After WWII all right-thinking people were
especially alert to the threat of mass politics, left or right. Furthermore, the
difficulties involved in shifting enemies in 1948, after five years
in alliance with Uncle Joe Stalin, made a politically-neutral,
relatively contentless ideology preferable to anything with any
substance, since
geopolitical exigencies might demand still another switch sometime down
the road. A determinedly apolitical philosophy was satisfactory to
administrative liberalism on both counts, and in
fact the contentlessness of analytic philosophy is peculiarly suited
to the liberalism of this era, which often presented its own views in the
form of a default skepticism about all opposing ideas.
For me, Reisch's story is a painful one. I was
already a leftish pragmatist in 1964 when I showed up for college,
and I can now understand that I never really had a chance. I
continually felt myself being pushed in the apolitical direction,
and I resisted until I dropped out. When the U.S. mobilized for war
in 1941, the academy was mobilized too. We have never demobilized
since then, though there have been many twists and turns of policy.
Specialists are workers,
and bosses are generalists. For philosophy the cost of specialization
has been to become
a subaltern null discipline, watching marketers and administrators
and publicists and preachers and strategists and financiers and
demagogues and promoters make the big political decisions, with
no input from philosophy. The aggressive modesty of analytic
philosophy looks cute on paper, but it's hard for a student of
current events not to think that there's something missing nowadays, and that
philosophy might be it.
| Update:
There was an interesting discussion
of this piece at
The Valve. By and large, I was forced to clarify and
complexify my historical story, which now consists of
1.) the rise of logical empiricism (logical positivism) and
related approaches in England and Austria, 2.) their
increasing influence in America during the 30s and 40s,
3.) a narrowing of philosophy during the fifties in response
to McCarthyist and other external pressures, and finally
4.) the replacement of logical empiricism (or logical
positivism) by later analytic philosophy -- which,
however, maintained the anti-popular anti-political
narrowness of the 50s. Analytic
philosophy triumphed throughout the English-speaking
world (steps 1 and 2). Step 3 was fairly unique to the
United States
The career of Karl Popper
illustrates the difference. Popper was not a
member of the Vienna Kreis, though he shared many
of their ideas. Since he worked in Britain and not the US
he was not touched by
McCarthyism, and finally, he was more centrist and
anti-Communist than many or most of the logical
empiricists. Thus, he was able to develop his mildly
socialist ideas in a congenial atmosphere.
And Popper was, in fact, more a political, big-picture philosopher than he was a
strictly
analytic philosopher. His falsificationist definition of
the scientific method was idealized and normative, his
open society was an ambitious political ideal, and his cosmology in Objective Knowledge
(World One, World Two, World Three) was
far too speculative for analytic philosophy. In these
respects he resembled the more generalist, more
political logical empiricists.
A school of philosophy descended from Popper
(through Gellner) survived in England, and they wrote a
lot about politics from a moderate social-democratic
point of view. I’ve read a moderate amount of stuff from that school
-- Stephen Lukes is the name I remember. I have heard complaints from Popperians
that Popper's philosophy was not taught in the US. I
don’t know the truth of this.
Update
II:
I have been contacted by Aaron
Preston of Malone College, who sends me a link to
this article, a version of which was published in
The Monist. Preston's story of the rise of analytic
philosophy, which will be published as a book by
Continuum Press, overlaps significantly with mine.
A chapterwise draft of it can be found
here. |
|
I am emersonj at gmail dot com.
Original materials copyright John J
Emerson
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