In a review of a book by the British idealist, A. E. Taylor, some years ago, C. D. Broad commented: “What of the nightmarish appearance, stupid perseveration and meaningless fecundity in organic nature? If the teleologist would consider the ways of the locust and the lemming, he would be a sadder and perhaps a wiser man.” Of course, others besides idealists are teleologists, but in the idealist tradition since Plato, the question of overall teleology has been a fundamental one. It (...) may be that idealists have a peculiar problem in trying to reconcile apparent dysteleological facts with their overall belief in purpose. The question is a basic one. It may also be regarded as a watershed dividing Eastern idealists, especially Indian, from their Western counterparts. (shrink)

To understand any genuine theism we must recognize at once that we are dealing with a problem of a different order than technical puzzles in epistemology or conundrums in modal logic. That is not to say that theism is above rational investigation, that acceptance of it presupposes some special access, or that it cannot be examined philosophically. But it cannot be discussed fruitfully unless there is some grasp of what refined religious feeling in fact is. A lot of discussion about (...) God comes from the lips of people who have never visited temple, mosque, or meeting house, and who have not tried to find out what it is like to have a religious attitude toward an object of belief for forty years without a break. They have little interest in understanding the experience of prayer or finding out what it is like to commit oneself sincerely to a religious ideal. Invariably they know little about the teachings and claims of the eleven world religions, but they surely know how to find an assortment of flaws in St. Thomas’s “Five Ways” and they are consummate experts in showing up weaknesses in Paley’s “watchmaker” argument. They have a veritable field day in ridiculing the extravagances of uncritical Fundamentalism. (shrink)

The balance between creative thinking and creative scholarship is a hard one to achieve, partly because the lure to be original is in conflict with the desire to be fair to the insights of past thinkers and partly because one can never be quite sure whether his scholarship is mere pedantry or actually constitutes significant discovery. In his essay, “On Books and Reading,” Schopenhauer distinguishes those who have “read themselves stupid” from those who take time to ruminate and set their (...) own thoughts to work. “A spring never free from the pressure of some foreign body at last loses its elasticity,” he writes, “and so does the mind if other people’s thoughts are constantly forced upon it.” Thomas Hobbes once observed that if he had read as much as other persons of his acquaintance he would have known no more than they. But the trouble is that if one does not read enough of what others have thought, he may repeat mistakes they made or turn down some cul-de-sac which is not worth exploring or is profoundly trivial. More common in philosophy is the arrogant upstart who has fastened onto some formula which he treats as a talisman enabling him to decide what to ignore and what to study. For a time, there were some philosophers who thought that anyone before Hume was not worth reading, and there are still a few who think anyone following in the footsteps of Descartes must surely be wrongheaded. (shrink)

The idealistic current of thought has been flowing since the time of Plato and before; and while it has been diverted from time to time and even partially dammed up, it has persisted and found its way into our own period. Those who decide philosophical questions on the strength of what they take the Zeitgeist to be have been sure for a long time that philosophical idealism in its variegated forms is at best a narrow trickle about to disappear in (...) the mud of scientific naturalism or the fine grained sand of Anglo-American analysis. Some view any idealistic utterance as a mere seepage, an oddity; others, in a self-ascribed posture of contemporary “maturity,” ignore even the presence of the seepage, perhaps fearing that it might be a spring. (shrink)

No doubt taking his clue from a book published by Friedrich Paulsen under the title Philosophia Militans, Albert C. Knudson placed a chapter in his memorable history of personalistic idealism called “Militant Personalism”. And he raised by that very title, as Paulsen had earlier, the question of the actual forcefulness of philosophical ideas on history and society. Another book, issued three years after Knudson’s, was called Behaviorism: A Battle Line. This volume of collected essays, edited by W. P. King, made (...) the point that behaviorism as a philosophy of mind had such serious negative implications for human beings and the social order that it must be vigorously opposed and literally fought against. (shrink)

Exploration of the philosophical assumptions and presuppositions underlying the nature of science itself, as well as its continued progress, has been limited traditionally and primarily to the physical sciences. In recent years, work in the philosophy of the social sciences has been advancing. And now there is some significant new work being done on the logical and historical bases of the science of psychology. Indeed, as historians of psychology set about their task, they are beginning to find that that science (...) really had strong idealistic roots in its early days. These roots are not only worth studying from the general standpoint of intellectual history, they are also valuable in coming to an appreciation of the recent revival of neoidealistic psychology. (shrink)

There is increasing evidence that a clear battleline is forming again between reductive materialism and general idealistic philosophy. In the days of Royce and Bowne in this country and Bradley and Bosanquet in Britain, the stimuli to a revived materialism came from the theory of evolution and from the natural sciences generally. And there was some growing analytic aversion to Hegel’s system. Idealists today have clearly shown that their views are not easily annulled by facile citations to modern scientific activity. (...) One need only call to mind the solid work of Errol Harris, whose brilliant Nature, Mind and Modern Science of 1954 has just been translated by Philip Mueller as Nature, l’esprit et science moderne. In a recent article dealing with the changing relations of nature, man, and modern science, Harris points out that current biology in conjunction with holistic physics has produced an organismic conception of nature which incorporates man and his activities “as a dialectical scale of forms in which human mentality is a late stage.” Nature is then not something to be exploited but to be viewed as an ecological system, a matrix of human life. (shrink)

Idealistically oriented thinkers have persistently fought against any tendencies on the part of diverse philosophies to interpret or explain the fact of self-experience in terms of something less than the self knows itself to be. But this insistence on the centrality of the knowing subject carries with it the obligation to explain not only what that knowing subject is but why it is central and why one must in some way begin with it in his philosophical explorations. The need for (...) such an explanation is laid upon the idealist by those who insist that all explanations, all philosophizing, must begin, rather, with the observable objective facts of the natural sciences and the “external order.” But those who dote so much on alleged “objective” facts then have to try to squeeze the claims of the self-conscious subject into some explanatory formula which accounts for those data causally and views the self as some kind of a product of something more basic ontologically. Is a thinker unalterably “subjectivistic” if he insists on the epistemic centrality of the knower? Is that merely another form of “foundationalism”? Of course, there are other philosophical alternatives, but can idealistic methodology be characterized wholly by the title of Quentin Lauer’s book on Husserl, The Triumph of Subjectivity? (shrink)

The informal letters of great philosophers often provide valuable clues not only to the development of their thought processes but also to their inner personalities. The austere and distant Hegel comes alive as a man in his correspondence, and the rigorous Spinoza takes on the blood and flesh of a gracious friend in his letters. In Kant’s correspondence, we occasionally find helpful interpretations of his thought as he answers questions put to him by friends and inquirers. And the letters of (...) William James to his wide circle of friends are uniformly charming. We do not usually find a great deal of profound significance in the extant personal correspondence of philosophers but there is an occasional insight, often a clue to the unfolding of a personality, or an unguarded comment here or there which suggests a tendency or trait. (shrink)

The effort to link philosophical theories with the progress of science has been a persistent one, but most modern scientists do their work quite successfully without giving a thought to philosophical problems or issues. In the earliest days of intellectual curiosity, one could scarcely distinguish between philosophy and science for the Milesian metaphysicians were also physicists. Democritus’s ontological views presaged the atomic theory of matter. The metaphysician Aristotle was so brilliant as a scientist that few questioned his authority until the (...) fifteenth century. As the concerns of science became more particular and experimental, it began to separate itself from philosophy. Since the Renaissance, the two have rather gone their own ways. Philosophers have usually been more interested in what scientists were doing than vice versa. Not many scientists are affected by what philosophers have concluded. A. D. Ritchie once noted that had chemists paid serious attention to Ernst Mach’s reductionist criticisms of science, they would have “murdered a fine and lively science.”. (shrink)

That the late civil rights leader, Martin Luther King, Jr., was a devotee of the ethics of nonviolence is generally well-known. What is not so well-known is the fact that he was philosophically trained and that he was a personalist. He began the study of philosophy at Morehouse College in Atlanta, continued it in part at the Crozer Theological Seminary, and enrolled in a doctoral program at Boston University. For a time, he studied Plato with Raphael Demos of Harvard. His (...) doctoral dissertation was entitled: “A Comparison of the Conceptions of God in the Thinking of Paul Tillich and Henry Nelson Wieman.” In it he provides a defense of personalistic theism which he sees as both a mediating position between the thinkers he evaluates as well as a sounder one. In the first of his seven books, Stride Toward Freedom, he affirms his acceptance of personal idealism in these words. (shrink)

Why another book on Berkeley? For one thing, because he is so curiously modern. He was one of the pioneers of the empiricism and nominalism so popular today. He discussed with great clearness many of the issues with which present-day philosophers are concerned--the status of sense-data, the nature of causation, the relation of primary to secondary qualities, the problems of universals, the importance of language, the existence of other selves, and how we communicate with them.