There
is a widening interest in philosophy, but this does not stop significant
intellectual currents in our society flowing against the subject. One result is
the way in which, even in the formation of public policy, ethical questions are
often dealt with through an appeal to what people actually think, as evidenced,
say, in opinion polls. There is little attempt, even in complex matters, to
question the reasons for the judgments being made. Ethics becomes a branch of
sociology, and the settling of ethical issues is regarded as a mere matter for
political negotiation.
Two
trends, in particular, erode the influence of philosophy. They can be dubbed
'materialism' and 'relativism'. The first is the product of the prestige of
science. As scientific knowledge increases it is easy to assume that it will go
on increasing until nothing eludes its grasp. The rational study of a reality
beyond science (traditionally called 'metaphysics') becomes a contradiction in
terms. Rationality becomes identified with the practices of contemporary
science. This has meant that science has had to be justified in its own terms,
needing no metaphysical foundation. Yet this is a precarious position for any
intellectual discipline, since it then has no resources to withstand attack
once it is challenged. This is particularly important nowadays when science is
no longer universally admired, and when many are worried about its effects on
our environment.
Perhaps,
so far from being in a position to challenge metaphysics, it needs a
metaphysical foundation itself. It cannot just discover order in the world, but
has to be able to generalise from the particular to the universal. Its
discoveries are taken to be typical of the wider whole. Matters are not helped
by the fact that in English 'science' has a narrow connotation, referring
exclusively to the empirical methods of observation and experiment. This
contrasts notably with the Latin 'scientia' ('knowledge'). The German
'Wissenschaft' also covers a much wider range, even including philosophy
itself. The effect of this English usage is to narrow in scope what can be
regarded as established knowledge, and to encourage the 'scientistic' view that
empirical science is the sole source of knowledge.
The
result is to maintain that reality is only what can be observed or measured.
Philosophy appears to have very little to do, and is certainly not concerned
with what the world is like. That issue, and the question of how we can know
the world, become empirical questions to be settled by a rigorous use of
scientific method. The current concern with so-called 'evolutionary
epistemology' is evidence of a continuing trend, even within philosophy, of
suggesting that traditional philosophical questions about the basis of
knowledge can be settled by an appeal to science. In this case, the appeal of
neo-Darwinism is strong. The idea is that humans could not have evolved to live
in this world unless they saw it as it is. People who do not see holes fall in
them. Those who have survived and reproduced must have been attuned to reality.
This argument depends on the theory of evolution through natural selection. Yet
that is itself a scientific theory. Much depends on whether it is true. Does it
describe the workings of the world accurately? We cannot, though, assume that
the theory gives us knowledge, unless we think we are in a position to gain
knowledge. Yet that is precisely what evolutionary epistemology was supposed to
demonstrate. It is involved in a massive begging of the question, which is an
inevitable result of trying to replace philosophy with science. A similar
conundrum is likely to face any attempt to replace philosophy with a scientific
account of the functioning of human reason.
The
idea that the material, or physical world is all there is, cannot be
under-written by science. The view that science can explain everything may
presuppose it, but is not going to be empirically proved, since it a
philosophical position, making metaphysical claims about the nature of reality.
Saying what reality has to consist in will always go further than the actual
scientific discoveries we have made so far. The term 'materialism' summarises
this position, but philosophers realise that 'matter' is increasingly difficult
to define. They often prefer the term 'physicalism', referring to the need to
define reality in terms acceptable to actual (or possible) physics. They may
otherwise talk of 'naturalism', turning to the whole of natural science rather
than just physics as the defining agent. An embarrassing question will always
be to ask how far physicalism or naturalism could be shown to be scientifically
correct. Since they are themselves philosophical positions about the nature of what
can be real, this is going to be impossible.
Another
source of erosion in faith in the contemporary world is the concentration on
the fact of people's beliefs, and their variety, and not the content of the
beliefs. We have seen an example of this in the treatment of ethical issues.
The stress on science has led to an inevitable reaction to all forms of
so-called 'modern' thought. Post-modernism has decried the Enlightenment idea
of the universality of rationality, as illustrated by modern science. It has
preferred to see human reasoning as the product of particular times and places,
relating it to its context (as in the case of 'Enlightenment' reason). The
universality claimed by scientific truth thus becomes the product of a
historically situated view. The idea is that we have passed into the
'post-modern' era and can see the inherent limitation of the claims of
modernity. There is no 'God's-eye' view, it will be said, and no rational
'self' able to transcend its historical situation. We are, instead, all moulded
by our history, and the result is a debilitating relativism. Yet the mere claim
that there are different historical contexts, like the 'modern era', itself
looks like a claim to truth. It has to talk about what is the case. In fact, it
seems impossible consistently to espouse a relativism relating truth to the
beliefs of a precisely demarcated group. Even describing the situation involves
at least recognising the non-relative fact of a variation of belief.
Apart
from its internal incoherence, relativism also poses a problem for philosophy
itself. It may appear to be a philosophical theory, but its effect is to
redirect our attention away from whether people's beliefs are justified, to a
mere acknowledgment that they are held. We are back again with the current
penchant for settling ethical controversies by counting heads. What matters, it
seems, is whether beliefs are held, and by how many. There seem to be no
intellectual resources left to judge whether the beliefs are right or wrong,
justified or unjustified. This may seem all very democratic, but it certainly
removes any possibility of philosophical discussion of the issues (and any
possibility of justifying democracy). Ethics provides just one example, but the
same situation will occur whenever there is a variation of belief. Even science
is not sacrosanct. The point of post-modernism is to challenge the monopoly
claims of scientific rationality, in a manner that in effect demolishes the
idea of rationality. Science is placed in a context. It becomes 'Western'
science, and is one set of social practices amongst others. Arguments about its
standing, like all other philosophical arguments, are changed into political
negotiations between different sets of people, and different power groupings.
The demise of any respect for a disinterested, philosophical, rationality has
radical consequences, which are as destructive as a mindless echoing of the
contemporary preoccupations of empirical science.
Neither
materialism, resulting in uncritical worship of science, nor relativism,
underwriting the beliefs of every possible grouping, leave any role for
philosophy. We are left with a cacophony of views, since we cannot provide a
rational basis for scientific knowledge, or adjudicate between competing
positions, Our only way out is an appeal to power, and even force, in order to
settle disputes. It is no coincidence that the stirrings of the Eu ropean
Enlightenment, and the foundation of modern science, took place in seventeenth
century England at the time of the Civil War. Reason could seem a welcome
alternative to the strife and destruction that swept through the British Isles
at that time.
Yet
materialism, or physicalism, is itself on a collision course with relativism.
The former appeals to the view of objective truth, which the latter denies.
Matter, or physical reality, is claimed to be all there is. This is a point
about the nature of reality, not people's beliefs about it. Yet the two agree
in fundamentally challenging the role of philosophy and leaving little place
for it. Indeed, the two were identified by Plato as threats to the possibility
of knowledge.
The
very fact that Socrates and Plato upheld a distinctive view of the possibility
of a detached rationality, independent of particular beliefs or of the material
processes, shows how restricting it is to see the Enlightenment as the source
of a belief in human reason. Yet one does not need to agree with Plato's
metaphysics, or his philosophical outlook, to see the relevance and importance
of a view of reason, and its role in philosophy. Philosophy is not an empirical
theory, and it is very different from cultural studies. Indeed, those who argue
against the practice of philosophy, from the standpoint of science, or the
history of ideas, are doomed to undermine their own positions. Even materialism
and relativism become recognisably philosophical theories, once they are
explicitly articulated. They both make general claims about the nature of
reality. When the consequence of an argument for holding them is to remove any
basis for rational discussion, that only serves to demonstrate their ultimate
incoherence. They give reasons for not having reasons. In the case of a
scientistic attitude, they uphold reasons why causal explanations are the only
kind of explanation possible. In the case of relativism, they argue that all
our beliefs are culturally constructed and not the product of reason. There is
no doubt about it. In the face of an attempt by science to claim a monopoly of
reason, and the simultaneous, and incompatible delight in cultural differences,
philosophy matters now, just as it has always done.
Roger
Trigg is Professor of Philosophy at the University of Warwick, and the author
of Philosophy Matters (Blackwell, 2002).
This
article was originally published in The
Philosophers’ Magazine.