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Metaphysician, Heal Thyself!
A Dim View of Peirce's Realism
Wherein we pose
the question: do C. S. Peirce's substantial contributions
to philosophical analysis refute his flirtation with medieval
ontology?
Ernest Partridge.
Philosophy
Seminar
Prof. W. P. Read
Autumn, 1967
It will soon enough be clear to the
reader that I have sliced off a massive topic. In criticizing
Peirce's realism, I am challenging a tenet that he defended
throughout his long, varied and evolving career. Moreover, I'm
confronting this tenet with several of Peirce's most carefully
elaborated ideas. Accordingly, each of the sections of this paper
call for chapter-length treatment -- at least. The paper thus seems
more an abstract for a book than a research paper. The thesis of
this paper should be seriously argued only after a thorough study of
the works of Peirce and his commentators and critics -- a study
which, manifestly, I have been unable to undertake with sufficient
thoroughness in these few weeks.
I justify the boldness of this
inadequate undertaking on two grounds: one practical and the other
theoretical. The practical ground resides in the immediate purpose
of the paper: namely to provoke discussion in the seminar. The
theoretical justification is one which, I should like to believe, C.
S. Peirce would approve: I wish to present a tentative working
hypothesis, which I believe further scholarship should explore. Such
an exploration would, of course, to attempt a fuller account of
Peirce's realism. It would then attempt to explicate further the
presuppositions of his theories of thought-signs and pragmatic
meaning, and the bearings of these upon his realism. Throughout this
research, I would like to believe, the questions posed below would
remain relevant: (a) is Peirce's metaphysical realism consistent
with these leading principles of his analytic philosophy?, and (b)
if not, what should give way -- his speculative or his critical
insights? My hunch, based upon the modest research that I have been
able to pursue, would be that (a) there is a basic conflict herein,
and (b) Peirce's analytic philosophy is much the worthier
contribution.1
I. The
Realism of C. S.
Peirce
Peirce's realism is one of the most
persistent themes of his philosophy2 -- it is also, alas,
one of the most obscure, for not only is the concept of realism
inherently difficult to discuss, but (as Buchler complains) a clear
or concise statement of his realism is not to be found in his
writings.3 [Buchler, 123]
With these difficulties in mind,
perhaps the most direct approach would be to ask: what does Peirce,
as realists, alleged to be real?
Well, first of all, predicates of
perceptual judgments (or better -- "that to which these predicates
refer"). A "merely existent" individual thing cannot be an object of
knowledge -- it can be so only as it embodies or "instances"
generals -- as they are embodied in individuals.4 For
instance,
Anybody may opine that 'the'
is a real English word; but that will not constitute him a
realists. But if he thinks that whether the word 'hard'
itself be real or not, the property, the character, the
predicate, "hardness" is not invented by men, as the word
is, but it's truly in the hard things and is one in them
all, as a description of habit, disposition, or behavior,
then he is a realist. [1.27n1]
Goudge amplifies at this point:
The directly experienced
hard surface of a particular stone is determinate, whereas
the universal hardness, which the intellect grasps, is
indeterminate or general. A consequence of this view is that
the individual per se is not a proper object of knowledge.
What we know are genera and species, themselves the product
of mental action. Yet because complete being embraces both
universality and particularity, because man perceives a
singular with his senses while cognizing the universal with
his intellect, it is possible for him to attain the singular
by relating universals to something, which is this. [99]
Once we grant that perceptual
knowledge requires a presupposition of "real generals," we find it
easy to presume that observed regularities, or "laws," are "real"
also. Consider the case of gravitation. We have found, in our
experience, (direct and indirect) that unsupported stones do in fact
fall to the ground. How do we account for this? Two hypotheses are
open to us. Either.
1. The uniformity with which
the stones of fall and has been due to mere chance and
affords no ground whatever, not the slightest for any
expectation that the next own that shall be let go will
fall; or.
2. The uniformity which the
stones have fallen has been due to some active general
principle, In which case it would be a strange coincidence
that agencies to act at the moment. My prediction was based
on it...
Of course every sane man
will adopt the latter hypothesis. If he could doubt it in
the case of the stone -- which he can't -- and I may as well
drop the stone once for all -- I told you so! -- if anybody
doubts this still, a thousand other such inductive
predictions are getting verified every day, and he will have
to suppose everyone of them to be merely fortuitous in order
reasonably to escape the conclusion that general principles
are really operative in nature.5 That is the
doctrine of scholastic realism. [5.99-100].
Finally, general principles are
further indicated by the unquestionable fact that we form habits,
and discover that they are generally dependable. But the
dependability of a habit.
can be so judged only in so
far as it molds our particular actions to conform to certain
general features in the bewildering variety of the world. In
other words, unless our habits were adjusted to certain
truly general conditions -- conditions that hold
irrespective of any compulsion to come about in this or that
particular way... hence we know, as certainly as we know
anything, that "generality" is an indispensable ingredient
in reality.6
Further explication of "realism"
might be obtained by contrasting it with its rival, nominalism. As
Peirce views the dispute:
The question, therefore, is
whether man, horse, and other names of natural classes,
correspond with anything which all men were all horses have
been common, independent of our thought, or whether these
classes are constituted simply by a likeness in the way in
which our minds are affected by individual objects which
have been themselves no relationship whatever.7
[Peirce, "Review" 454]
He thus dismisses nominalism with a reductio ad absurdum: "The man who takes the [nominalist] position
ought to admit no general law has really operative... He ought to
abstain from all prediction, however qualified by confession of
fallibility. But that position can practically not be maintained."
[5.210] He thus concludes that "generality is... an indispensable
ingredient of reality; for mere individual assistance or actuality
without any regularity whatever is a nullity. Chaos is pure
nothing." [5.431].
Peirce shows little sympathy here
for the rival hypothesis of a nominalism. A more objective account
of the contest might be that (a) Peirce's realism holds an
individual thing is recognized or acted upon as a something -- it is
a repository of real general properties. The nominalist would
contend (b) that the categorizing and labeling that attends our
dealings with these objects are fundamentally arbitrary – but that
some slicing of the melon of experience is necessary if we are to
make our way in the world -- that is, if we are to engage in
conceptual and abstract thinking. To paraphrase Wittgenstein, the
nominalist argues that we deal with "generals" because we require
them -- not because we discover them. Like Rousseau's God: if there
were none, they would have to be invented -- which, in fact, the
nominalist argues, they are.
We now seem to have a point of
meaningful departure. We are ready to ask Peirce: in what sense are
these universals ("generals") real? Do they exist or subsist in some
ghostly Platonic sense? Are they independent of our thought of them?
But at just the point at which we seek substance to this doctrine,
Peirce gets canny and presents us with exasperating list of
qualifications.
We might pursue these qualifications
by adopting one of Peirce's favorite devices (and mine too): dialogue
Q. Would it be correct, then to
assume that the "real" general's simply exist?
A. No. We must make a firm
distinction between reality and existence. "Reality" means a
certain kind of non-dependency upon thought, and so is a
cognitionary character.8 While "existence" means
reaction with the environment, and so is a dynamic
character; and accordingly the two meanings... are clearly
not the same." [5.503] [In the following, in Goudge speaks
for Peirce]: "The affirmation of realism doesn't necessarily
imply that general's exist in the way individual facts do.
Realists are sometimes thought to believe that, for example,
the law of gravity is 'in nature' precisely as particular
falling bodies are. Since no such thing is empirically
possible, it is easy to conclude that a universalia in re
must be a metaphysical fiction... A realist does not
need to assert the existence of universals; he only needs to
assert their reality." [Goudge 98].
Q. Are you then denying that
the "real generals" exist or "subsist" in, say, a Platonic
sense?
A. Exactly! "The version of
realism presented here is of the 'moderate' variety, which
is not incompatible with naturalism. For it involves no
reification of universals,9 no attributing to
them of an advocacy superior to that of individual
existence, no suggestion that they have some status in the
universe independent of human thought. On the contrary, laws
and general types are genuine features of the world has
investigated by the scientific community." [Goudge 101].
Q. Of what nature, then, is
a general?
A. "The General is not
capable of full actualization in the world of action and
reaction, but is of the nature of what is thought." [1.27]
"What is general is of the nature of a general sign."
[1.24].
Q. Well then, doesn't this
simply put "the real" back into the sign-using minds of
those who define the "generals"? Haven't you surrendered
your case to the nominalists?
A. Not really. "The realist
has not hold that reality is dependent on the thinking of
any individual. On the contrary, the real is precisely that
which is independent of what you, or I, or anyone else
happens to think about it. But it does not follow that the
real is independent of thought in general, i.e. of 'the
ultimate decision of the community.'10 Similarly,
although the real natures which exist if things are, apart
from all action of the intellect, and Cingular, they are
nevertheless real universals in relation to human thought.
Our judgments about types of four classes, then, do not
refer to metaphysical fictions, but two divisions that have
a basis in an actual world." [Goudge 99-100; cf. 5.407].
Q. We seem to be back to a
point of departure. In what sense to these divisions "have a
basis in the actual world?" What existents can we identify
to point out these "real" divisions? What is there in the
world, really, besides individuals?
A. "It must be admitted that
individuals alone exists." [5.429] That is, "apart from
thought only singular things exist. But there are in
singular, certain 'natures,' themselves neither universal
nor particular, which constitute the ground of
intelligibility. In things, these natures are particular;
when brought into relation to an act of the intellect., they
are universal. (Goudge 99). "It is the very same nature
which in the mine is universal and in re is singular."
[Peirce, "Review" 459].
Q. I just can't see what
remains now of your quarrel with the nominalists. You seem
to have preempted anything unique or starling in your
realism. There seems to be, to paraphrase your good friend
Professor James, no "difference and make a difference."
A. Well, I suppose that it
will be your task in the remainder of this paper to argue
just this point.
Q. And on this matter, we
quite agree -- and close!11
II. Thought-Signs
and Realism (1):
The Chicken and the
Egg.
Peirce's realism might be attacked
from several directions. Any student of philosophy familiar with
along a tree of the realist-nominalists dispute would be quite aware
of this. I shall however direct my attention to some promising
avenues of criticism suggested by Peirce himself.
"Every thought is a sign," said
Peirce in his late essay "Pragmatism in Retrospect." [5 .11] This
maxim, summarizing the most on the inside of Peirce’s epistemology,
is found, in theme and variation, throughout the long and productive
course of his recorded thought. In two of his earliest works,
(published in 1868) quaintly titled "Questions Concerning Certain
Faculties Claimed for Man" and "Some Consequences of Four
Incapacities," Peirce set down some of the most significant
implications of this insight.12 I will examine two of
these: first (a) all thinking presupposes prior thought; [5.259] and second (b)
all thinking is of the nature of a
hypothesis. [5.269] these two basic implications of Peirce’s
theory of thought signs serve to refute two long-standing
philosophical prejudices, which I call (a') "the chicken egg
syndrome" and (b') "the doctrine of the last word." The former
precious was presupposed by Descartes in his "method of
philosophical doubt" and by Locke, Russell and others in their
respective searches for basic "primary constituents" of knowledge
(e.g.. "acquaintance" or "sensed data," etc.."). The latter
prejudice (b') and is embraced by those who wish to believe that a
judgment of factual import can be wholly and completely settled, or
that a term in a natural language can be defined with complete
precision. Both prejudices fall victim to Peirce’s and criticisms --
and through them, I hold, Peirce’s, realism is severely crippled.
Peirce’s supposition that all
cognition is "determined by a previous cognition" seems, on its
face, to be clearly paradoxical. This Peirce readily acknowledges.
"It would seem," he says, "that there is, or has been, [a cognition
not determined by a previous cognition]. For since we are in
possession of cognitions, which are all determined by previous ones,
and is by cognitions earlier still, there must have been a first
in the series or else out state of cognition at any time is
completely determined, according to logical laws, by our state at
any previous time. But there are many facts against the last
supposition, and therefore in favor of intuitive cognitions" (or
basic primary "acquaintances" or "sense data" or what have you).
[5.259]
This counter-argument assumes,
however, that one "cognition" is pretty much the same sort of thing
as any other "cognition," and since one's life begins at a finite
moment in time, something he just has to start the mind on its way.
There just had to be either a chicken or an egg to get the poultry
business started. But this assumption is not true either for
chickens or cognitions, and for pretty much the same sort of reason.
Before chickens were bantams and leghorns, or whatever, there were
some sorts of wild fowls. And before that, say a few million years,
there are reptiles. Before that, fish, and before that protozoa. Do
we then ask: "and which amoeba came first!" We answer the
chicken-egg puzzle by pointing out, quite simply, that chickens and
eggs evolved concomitantly from more primitive origins.
So too with thoughts. We need not
suggest that there is no specific point time in one's life before
one begins to think. What Peirce does suggest (in Gallie’s
more lucid prose) is that
it may be impossible
in
principle -- and not simply because of our lack of
observational or experimental or imaginative skill -- to
"pinpoint" the origins of thought, or of intellectual life,
in any given individual. And should the reader feel a strong
disinformation to accept the suggestion, let them put the
following question to himself. Does he really believe that,
given ideal conditions of observation, he would be able to
"pinpoint" the exact moment at which a child can be said to
have begun to talk, or to have a come able to follow a story, or to have begun
to understand
foreign language, or begun to enjoy music?... Has
a mental life of every individual a definite beginning in
time? Common sense has no difficulty about accepting the
suggestion that in all these cases capacity to think, to
speak, to understand or what not, depends, in any
mentionable stage, on the exercise of a previously formed
capacity. It is only the necessary conclusion from the
suggestion – namely that, in the sense which does no
violence to the known facts, our thinking life has no
definitely assignable beginning in time -- that commonsense
finds unpalatable. [Gallie 72-3]
Of course, as we carried our inquiry
back to the earlier life of the individual, we would find ourselves
dropping the term "thought" and replacing it with "habit" and then
"instinct," and then (in the womb, perhaps ) biochemical reactions
-- back, I suppose, gleam in father's eye.
The paradox with which we began,
then, is no paradox at all, once we have drastically overhauled our
habit of thought. That he so ably jolted us out of this pernicious
rut is but another mark of the significance and profundity of
Peirce’s thought.
What, then, of Peirce’s "Real
generals."? The resolution seems to be clearly at hand. Just as
Descartes argued that without "indubitable intuitions," (or "clear
and distinct ideas"), there are no certain foundations of knowledge,
so too did Peirce argue that without "real generals," there are no
meaningful percepts and no grounds for the acquisition of habits.
But now we have a clear reason to assume that our concepts of
"generals" arise with the development of our perceptual
discriminations. "Generals" are hypotheses which arise from
primitive beginnings as we mature from pre-cognitive infancy. There
is no longer any need to posit ontologically "prior" universals."
The realist-Peirce might retort:
"hold on there! I have, in refuting Descartes' intuitions, simply
demonstrated how a child acquires his own thought (meaning,
of course, his thought of generals). But clearly, it is not the case
that each child invents his own general concepts from nothing, or
even from his brute percepts. As the infant matures, he acquires
meanings, and in the manner described above, from his linguistic
environment. He learns a pre-existing language,
albeit his understanding of this language begins from primitive
reflex and imitation and develops concomitantly with his emerging
mind itself. What, then, remains unanswered is the question: "how is
it that natural languages so successfully embody these general
concepts that each person assimilates as he matures in his use of
language -- how, I say, do languages manage this if there are no generals for the language to refer to?"
I replied that the retort is just --
but that it only briefly postpones Peirce’s embarrassment. The
"chicken egg syndrome" serves quite well to dismiss an ontological
priority of generals in the emergence of natural languages. This
time, however, we apply to Peircian analysis of concomitant
evolution, not to the genesis of the individual person, but to the
genesis of languages and society. "Well, why then does language
evolve with general terms in its vocabulary -- if there are, as you
suggest, no real generals to which they apply?" Why, simply
because the function of language is to communicate, and
communication is impossible if meetings are not held in common
-- in common within the community of the language users.
Generality is required of a language if it is to be a
language. This is not a condition imposed upon it by some
ontological necessity. At this point, the anthropological linguist
deals and a blow to Peirce’s realism. For if we study languages
outside of the family of tongues to which our own language belongs
(the so-called "Indo-European" languages), we find systems of
codification (say, of color) and of grammar that are radically alien
to our own.13 There seems to be little evidence that a
well-furnished "reality" of generals open "pushes" an evolving
language system either toward a standard vocabulary, or into a
standard morphology (albeit there are certainly limits that reality
sets up on languages if they are to function well). That the users
of a given language agree in their verbal codification and forms is
necessary for reasons that are quite obvious and quite irrelevant to
the realist-nominalist dispute. No such agreement is necessary
between two wholly isolated language communities.1
What then of Peirce’s "real
generals" as "prerequisite" of abstract concepts? All that is
prerequisite is that the child acquire and use the language of his
community, and (if there is to be a community) that the members
thereof agree (tacitly, of course) to use their language in
common -- that is, that they have the same language.
Generals need be posited, but not necessarily "real." There
seems to be little need to presume as "prerequisite" an independent
realm of "real generals" to which the language must conform.
All we need is suppose is an objective field of limitless
"similarities," some of which our language may codify. On
this account, the nominalist may be quite comfortable in his claim
that the similarities reside wholly in the individual
objects, and then abstract concepts are derivative from these
particulars.
We may therefore acknowledge the
existence of general concepts and language and thought (which is to
say much the same thing), without pre-supposing Peirce’s
"real generals" -- if by "real" he means "apart from and independent
of the language and the language community." Thanks to the
analyst-Peirce, we are enabled to avoid the thickets of the
metaphysical-Peirce’s realism, simply by treating general terms and
concepts as developing hypotheses within the evolving and
functioning language. "Real generals" are no longer needed to
account for general percepts.
"Dismiss make believes," says
Peirce. [5.416]
And so we shall!
III.
Thought-Signs and Realism (2): The Doctrine of the
Last Word.
We have, with Peirce is able
assistance, "looked back" and have abolished the notion that
thought, signs and languages have clear-cut, determinable
beginnings. We shall now look ahead, and abolish the need for a culmination.
An essential tenet of Peirce’s and
theory of thought signs is that all thought is hypothesis,
and thus future oriented. This tenet is clearly indicated by
his semiotic. Thought, as sign, we will recall, is essentially
triadic (a "Thirdness") -- it consists of signs, objects,
and interpretants..
Schematically:
But what does the "interpretant"
itself mean? To determine this, we treat interpretant1
as a sign and posit an interpretant2 of interpretant1.
To take an example from Peirce:2
Any thought, as interpretant, is a
sign -- a sign of anticipated expectation. As life goes on, these
signs are confronted by the anticipated events and thus refuted,
confirmed, and/or enriched. One sign anticipates the next,
and then the next. As we walk, we throw ourselves off balance and
forward, to be caught by the other foot, going forward again, et
cetera. So too with thought-signs. Each reaches forward to
anticipate that which follows.
In every case subsequent
thought denotes what was thought in the previous thought...
[5.285].
"When we think, to what
thought does the thought sign, which is ourself addressed
itself? It may, through the medium of outward expression,
which it reaches perhaps only after considerable internal
development, come to address itself to thought of another
person. But whether this happens or not, it is always
interpreted by a subsequent thought of our own. If, after
any thought, the current of ideas flows on freely, it
follows the law of mental association. In that case, each
former thought suggest something to the thought which
follows it, i.e., is a sign of something to this latter...
There is no moment at which there is a thought belonging to
the series, subsequently to which there is not a thought
which interprets or repeats it. There is no exception,
therefore, to the law that every thought-sign is translated
or interpreted in a subsequent one, unless it be that all
thought comes to an abrupt and final end in death. [5.284].
The rational meaning of
every proposition lies in the future. How so? The meaning of
a proposition is itself a proposition. [By .427]
The upshot is that there is no "last
word," except in the case of the "accident" of death -- in which
case, thought stops, though incomplete. Every sentence
ends with a tacit "et cetera." Every thought-concept has an implicit
"more or less" attached. Sentences, without exception are
fallible. Terms, without exception, are inexact and vague (with
the possible exception of "operators" in formal languages such as
logic). We can continue to remedy these shortcomings somewhat -- but not entirely. There is no "last word."
But if this is so, what becomes of
the royal road to "the opinion which is fated to be agreed upon by
all who investigate." [5.407] Is it, in fact, no road it all, but a
treadmill? Is not the quest for truth like the asymptote
toward which the hyperbole approaches, but at which it never
arrives? That this Peircian concept of truth -- this "article
of fate." -- has no present denotation is clear enough. But can it
ever have denotation? If not, then can we identify "the real" --
"the object represented in the [fated] opinion?" [5.407].
When we deal with
available
knowledge -- which, of course, is all that we have -- then this
lofty conception telescopes into "the truth seems to be that which,
at the moment, appears to be so -- but we'll do our best to further
our inquiry. We'll keep you informed as to the truth, as things
develop." How is the inquiry "fated" to end up? Well, we can answer
this only on the basis of what we have to go on now, which puts us
back just at that point where we were before Peirce performed his
rhapsodies on "fated inquiry" and "reality."
Peirce, of course, is no
skeptic
-- he is a fallibilist. He does not deny knowledge -- he
denies absolute knowledge. And so when we ask Peirce to "cash
in" his realism -- and when we say "show us a real" -- if we
get either a vague nod toward some utopia that Peirce himself cannot
consistently believed to be attainable, or else we get a rather
unstartling. "see your friendly scientist -- he may not have it, but
he seems to be heading that way."
I won't pretend that Peirce’s as
fallible as a bit flatly contrary to his realism.14
I do, however, suggest that he owes us some very subtle
argumentation if he wishes to maintain both of these cherished
doctrines. Lacking this argument, Peirce’s fallibilism seems to sweep away the grounds for his
realism. As Gallie puts it:
The main difficulty that
faces realism is, not to establish the irreducible
generality of many of our conceptions (a sane conceptualism,
such as Kant's, will grant this), but to establish that
there are "general connections" or "general states of
affairs" or "real generals" that correspond to these
conceptions. Do we ever actually know, or are we even in a
position reasonably to believe or hope, that our
conceptions, classifications, laws, are true to these "real
generals"? Are not all are general conceptions liable to
revision, all our general laws subject to correction in the
light of later experience? And if this be admitted (as
Peirce "the fallibilist" must admit), can any meaning, on
the pragmatic criterion, be allowed to the claim that there
are "real generals"?15 [Gallie 71-2]
Etcetera.
IV. Pragmatism
and Realism
The foregoing arguments challenge,
but do not overthrow Peirce’s realism. No doubt, he would be able to
present careful and well organized rebuttals. It is, I believe, this
next encounter that most seriously challenges Peirce’s realism --
the encounter with his pragmatic criterion of meaning.
The pragmatic challenge to realism
can be tersely put (in words borrowed from James): what
difference does it make? If we can show that realism predicts
nothing, explains nothing -- makes no practical difference -- then
we can dismiss it as a "make-believe." Very likely we will succeed
also in dismissing much of the metaphysical import of its rival, nominalism. (To throw away one side of the coin, one must throw
away the entire coin).
Before we attempt a fuller account
of the realist and nominalist positions, let us first examined this
criterion of "practical" or "theoretical" or "explanatory"
difference.
We say that hypothesis "makes a
difference" if, combined with certain assumptions of fact, we are
able to deduce (predict) events that will bear out ("confirm") are
expectations -- events that are not to be anticipated if the
hypothesis, or any of the other premises of the prediction,
are incorrect. Of course, our difficulty here is that an event contrary
to our prediction will place all the premises
under suspicion -- not just our hypothesis. However, a series of
refuting experiments, based on varying premises and our hypothesis serves to equip those premises and to turn the
suspicion upon our hypothesis. A series of confirmed predictions
strengthen the hypothesis; but not completely,16
for the confirmation could have occurred for an undisclosed reason
-- it could, in principle, be coincidental (but in a well structured
experiment this would be highly unlikely). This ability to predict, in the context of a assumed facts and laws, certain
events that we can clearly encounter and evaluate to be (or not to
be) as anticipated -- this is what experimental science, and
pragmatism, are all about.
Accordingly, the hard-nosed
pragmatists would ask a metaphysician: what kind of the world would
we, and would we not, expect, if your doctrine (say, "realism") were
"true?" What other sort of world if it were "false?" Would
the doctrine of their rival (say "nominalism") affirm or deny a
different sort of a world? Present the premises and predictions and
supply the evidence. Show us events that clearly should take
place, to the exclusion of other events, if your doctrine is true.
If such expectations can not be posited, then we must dismiss the
doctrine -- "commit it to the flames, for it can contain nothing but
sophistry and illusion." [Hume, Enquiry...].
Another test of meaning (really a
corollary of the above) is the "explanation gambit." The classical
example of a failure to meet the test is the following:
Q. "Why does opium one to sleep?"
A. "Because it contains a
dormative principle." (Translation: "Because it contains
something that puts one to sleep.").17
We dismiss the "explanation," not
because it is false, but because it simply repeats an account
of the phenomenon that it alleges to explain. The event remains
right where it was. The exclamation "explains" nothing, because
nothing else is being brought into the matter. There is no bridge to
any body of theory, or to any general laws. Contrast this with a
monograph in pharmacology. There, account is given to changes in
blood chemistry, of the result of these biochemical changes upon the
hypothalamus (thus tying in with the science of physiological
psychology), etc.. This explanation had "hooks" in it. And
thus, if it is wrong, any number of predictions might go wrong. As
Popper points out in The Logic of Scientific Discovery, the
strength a scientific hypothesis resides in its very vulnerability
-- in the number of ways it might be
refuted, and yet, despite all, is not refuted. Scientific cogency as
like the virtue of courage; the greater the hazards overcome,
the greater the merit.
What hazards faced Peirce’s realism?
We encountered repeating general conditions. Antifreeze keeps the
engine block from cracking -- usually. Stones fall to the ground
(this is a "real stone", isn't it?). But all this realist
and nominalist freely acknowledge. But is this all
that
Peirce means by "general principles are really active in the
universe?" Well, we shrug and say, "so what else is new?"
Of course, he means to say more. But
if he does, then he must be prepared to demonstrate that "because
general principles are active and real, then W will come to
pass, which implies that X, Y, & Z will not occur." Well, just, what
else does follow from realism? What consequences can be predicted?
That habits are possible? But isn’t this simply a
re-iteration of the point of departure: events "like A" are usually
followed by events "like B." What nominalist would, or would need
to, blush at this. Only those caricatures of nominalism that Peirce
presents, or some poor cousins properly disowned by the Society of
Right-Thinking Nominalists. Of course, I suspect that we could copy
much of this paragraph with an exchange of the terms "nominalism"
and "realism" and come to much the same conclusion: "no difference."
The same plague may be about both houses. But to check this out, we
had better take a closer look at realism and its rival, nominalism.
I believe that we now owe the
nominalists a fairer statement of their position than that suggested
by Peirce. I know no nominalists that would suggest that all events
are totally random: that a stone is just as likely to fall up
the next time as it is a drop-down,18 or that an acorn
might just decide to grow up to be a pine tree. What a nominalist
do0es generally hold is that:.
(a) Individuals alone are
real. (As corollary, it is often further argued that
individual macro-entities derive their being wholly from the
"primary qualities" of the component particles, and the
external relations between them).
(b) The most that can be
said of two individual things is that there are similar
in some made-note-of respect. The two things are
entirely similar (that is, "identical") in some respect,
independent of our nature, is alleged, by the nominalists,
either to be false or unknowable.
(c) The respects in which
things may be said to be "similar" are innumerable, and we
take notice of (or linguistically codify) only a finite
number of these respects. We just might as well have tried a
different system than we have -- and, in fact, many language
communities have done just that. For example:
(c-1) The verbal
cutting of continua (e.g. the color spectrum,
methods of measurement, etc.). So it is that some
language systems have wholly unique methods of
codifying colors (e.g., the Navajo) or natural
phenomena (e.g., the Eskimo classification of open
quote snow").
(c-2) The adoption
of one form or system of codification,
as against an indefinite number of possible
alternatives (e.g. the widely varying forms of
grammar extent in the world, especially outside the
western family of languages). Or consider the
profound difference in kinship systems --
particularly among preliterate societies).
We could expand this list, but this
much will suffice, I believe. Once more, the crux of the
nominalist position: there are individuals and nothing else. They
may, or may not, be "similar" and one may, or may not, come to a
notice of ("conceptualize") these similarities. To push nominalism
much beyond this is, I hold, to set up a straw man, or to cite a
species of the doctrine that is worthier bearers need not
acknowledge.19
Will the rival thus deflated, we may
ask, what contrary to this does Peirce entail when he argues
that (a) "generals" are in some sense "real;" (b) that to be "real"
is not equivalent to "existing," (c) in his more extreme moments,
that these "general principles" are "active and really operative" in
nature. Or do we find that when we cut down to the nitty-gritty of
our practical, anticipatory ("pragmatic") experiences, that the
"differences" simply fall way?
Consider now, Abraham Lincoln's
little homily: (a) "God must love the common man, because he made so
many of them."
To this a wit replied: (b) "God must
hate the common man, because he made him so common." Now both
of these "hypotheses" "accord with the facts." That is, and common
men are both many and common. (I take "common" to mean "nondescript"
and "ordinary"). What difference do these two pronouncements make?
Well, to find out whether God loves or hates common men, we must
look elsewhere -- say in Bible study. The facts of the multitudinous
or of the commoness of men, offers no help. (The illustration is
faulty of course, but it is only meant to illustrate).
Consider now, the following two
arguments: (a) Realism: there must be "operative
general principles" in nature, or else we would not experience
regularities -- however approximate they may be. (b) Nominalism: there are no
real generals -- only
similarities and approximations among particulars. This accounts of
the fact that our experience merely approximates the laws
that we set forth to regulate our perceptions.
It appears that the
same
experiences are thus accounted for by both doctrines.
Lest to be suspected that I have
dragged a Trojan horse into Peirce’s camp, let's examine this
"approximate regularities" jazz {of item (a) above). It is quite
explicitly set down in his account of "laws" as habit-taking in the
universe.
Uniformities is in the modes
of action of things and come about by their taking habits.
At present the course of events is the approximately
determined by law. In the past that approximation was less
perfect; in the future it will be more perfect. The tendency
to obey laws as always been and always will be growing.
We look back toward a point
in the infinitely distant past when there was no law by mere
indeterminacy; we look forward to a point in the infinitely
distant future when there will be no indeterminacy or
chance, but a complete reign of law. But at any assignable
date in the future there will be some slight aberrancy from
law. [Peirce’s tychism]. Moreover, all things have a
tendency to take habits. For toms and their parts, molecules
and groups of molecules, and in short every conceivable real
object, there is a greater probability of acting as on
former a like occasion that otherwise. [1-409]
Or again:
All laws are the result of
evolution; that underlying all other laws is the only
tendency that it which can grow by its own virtue, the
tendency of all things to take habits... If law is a result
of evolution, which is a process lasting for all time, it
follows in no law is absolute. That is, we must suppose that
the phenomena themselves involve departures from law
analogous to errors of observation. [6.101]
This, I think, has devastating
implications for Peirce’s realism. What now is there that is
"fixed" from which we may discover (not "invent") general
principles? Peirce, no less than the nominalists, confesses a
fundamental inexactness of information as well as a fallibilism
of belief. If any contest remains, it would seem to
be between the views that:
(a) we have inexact,
fallible knowledge of "real" general principles in the
universe.
Or, on the other hand,
(b) We have knowledge (exact
and perfect, or inexact and fallible -- it makes no
difference, but likely the latter) of an inexact and
unpredictable collection of particulars and external
relations. These, and only these, add up to our universe.
In short, (a) supposes the "leaks"
in our knowledge to be in the subjects of knowledge (our
minds) and not the objects.20 (b) Supposes the "leaks" to
be in the objects of knowledge -- and probably the subjects
to. Both wholly accord with the obvious fact that knowledge
is "leaky" (i.e. inexact and fallible).21
Now what difference could possibly
be drawn between these views? What discriminably different
consequences could be predicted there from? If we find no reply to
these challenges, then they must suspect we have two metaphysical
"accounts" of the following agreed-upon fact: we approach
certitude and and exactitude in our scientific accounts of the
universe, but we must necessarily fall short of culmination. There
is no final word -- the curve never touches the asymptote. But when
it comes to explaining this fact, realism and nominalism start and
end at the same point. They explain nothing but the fact in
question, and so don't really explain that.
For a final go at it, we’ll once
again state the basic realistic position and see if we can, in
practical terms, "cover" its basic tenets while sounding as if
we were propounding its rival. (a) Realism: "active
general principles are really operative in the world." We managed to
make our way in the world by adapting ourselves to those real qualities and regularities. (Laws) that are found therein. (b) The
nominalist accounts for all this as follows: the so-called
"generals" "operate" only insofar as they are instanced in
particulars -- which is to say the same thing as only particulars
"operate." Those "generals" that we recognize as "operating" are
derived from the particulars -- derived, that is to say, from similar
things and similar events (there being only
things and events) and our codifications of some of these. Ideas
have consequences, as any good pragmatist will agree, but mistaken
ideas have consequences too -- for all their "unreality." "Operativeness"
does not entail reality. We operate quite well as if some "generals" were somehow "more real" than particulars. But this
is just a useful fiction, adopted to make our language-oriented mode
of adaptation more manageable. Of course, we nominalists grant that
once we accept these devices, the world does lead us to warranted
conclusions, and excludes us from others. We don’t pretend that we
live in a dream world where simple wishing makes things so!
Now all this reads like a perfectly
respectable sort of critical nominalism. Surely, in its insistence
upon exclusive reality of particulars and external relations, it is
verbally far removed from a traditional sort of realism.
Has Peirce said anything
that
can stand and meaningfully challenge this doctrine on the field of
practical empirical consequences? Does either view assert anything
denied by the other? I think not. However, if either
of these positions has any hope for meaningful consequences, I
would be more inclined to look toward the nominalists. It is not
impossible that among the maxims of my statement of nominalism,
there might be some item with meaningful theoretical import.
As for Peirce’s realism, I must,
with Professor Bronstein, assume that Peirce has
become a victim of his own
propensity to coin phrases, convert them into "reals," and
then foist them on the universe. But whenever Peirce forgets
about the nominalist and really gets down to analyzing such
statements as, e.g., that "the uniformity with which stones
have fallen has then been due to some active general principle," or that "hardness really is in the hard things,"
etc., he finds that they mean nothing but (and he uses the
words "nothing but" too!) a statement to the effect that if
certain conditions now absent were present, then a result
now unrealized would occur. Is there a nominalist who would
take exception to this?
Suppose that A, a realist,
believes that there is an active general principle, that
stones fall when dropped, which principle is a real
constituent of the universe; and that B, a nominalist,
believes simply that stones fall when dropped. Applying the
usual pragmatic criterion, let us ask what difference it would make to the behavior of A and B, for them to hold
these "different" beliefs. Would A be able to make any
successful predictions about the universe that B could not
match? Would the expectations of B in any concrete situation
be disappointed where the expectations of A in the same
situation would not? In what respect, then, would A be wiser
or, or better off than B? As a good pragmatist, Peirce would
say that if the only difference between A and B is in the
expressions they use, then, since this does not constitute a
difference as far as concerns their beliefs [5.33], it will
follow that their beliefs do not differ in any respect.
[Bronstein 49].
V. CONCLUSIONS
I would conclude, then, that
Peirce’s realism better serves his metaphysics that it serves his
logic, theory of signs, and pragmatic method. Perhaps his
metaphysical aspirations have led him to foist his ontological
doctrine upon these other (more significant, I think) realms of his
philosophy, even though there seems to be little logical necessity
to do so. I would suggest, even more, that to the degree that
Peirce’s realism seems to make a difference -- that is, has
pragmatic import -- it threatens to undermine his most significant
contributions in critical philosophy. To the degree that his realism
accommodates itself to these insights, it loses meaning and becomes
empty.
I am led, then, to a nearly complete
agreement with Goudge when he observes that:
The naturalistic "moment" of
[Peirce’s] thought was far stronger and more influential
than his transcendentalism. It was the former that led him
to pursue his researches in formal logic, semiotics,
scientific method, phenomenology, and critical metaphysics,
and to make such impressive contributions to these fields.
His transcendentalism is most apparent in his views on
cosmology, ethics, and theology, though traces of it are
visible elsewhere. His speculative conclusions, while often
highly original and suggestive, are on the whole the least
cogent aspect of his work. As a pass from the logical
studies through phenomenology to his metaphysics, the
coexistence of the two tendencies becomes increasingly
apparent. The upshot is diversity rather than unity of
thought. [Goudge 7].
Substitute "analytic" for
"naturalistic" and "speculative" for "transcendentalistic," and I
will buy all of Goudge's remarks with no further qualifications.
Peirce too makes a valid charge when
he notes:
Almost every proposition of
ontological metaphysics is either meaningless gibberish --
one word being defined by other words: and they by still
others, without any real conception ever been reached -- or
else downright absurd. [5.423].
Metaphysician, heal thyself!
APPENDIX
An afterthought on a lead not
followed, for want of adequate primary source material.
Peirce seems to be committed to the
"forever unknown," or better, the "forever-yet-to-be-known." Every
percept and judgment, we recall, carries an implicit "et cetera"
with it. Yet, as Thompson interprets him, Peirce characterizes a
nominalist as.
One who assumes that beneath
what is given in the representation there is a "thing in
itself, an incognizable reality." In Peirce’s review of
Fraser's Berkeley (1871), these statements are
elaborated. The "realistic view of reality" is described as
one which regards "the reality as the normal product of
mental action, and not as the incognizable cause of it." "To
make a distinction between the true conception of the thing
and the thing itself is, he [the realists] will say, only to
regard one and the same thing from two different points of
view; for the immediate object of thought in a true judgment
is the reality. [Thompson 133]
Is it at all clear how, with his
fallibilism, Peirce can keep clear of his characterization of
the very doctrine he seeks to refute: nominalism. Now the
idea of "thing in itself, an incognizable reality" is not wholly
equivalent to the idea of a "yet-to-be-known, but never wholly so."
But they are similar enough to place Peirce in a precarious logical
spot.
Peirce is not, however, within range
of refutation. We must not convict him on this sketchy evidence. A
fuller investigation of Peirce’s writings is required, after which
we either (a) nail him on his inconsistency, or (b) failing that,
drop the charge, perhaps with some well-earned embarrassment and,
perchance, some admiration for Peirce’s gift of philosophical
accommodation.
NOTES
1.
Such a conflict, if genuine, would substantiate
Goudge's claim that there are, in fact, two Peirce’s – respectively,
one "naturalistic" and the other "transcendentalist." [Goudge, Ch.
1].
2.
"In 1903, commenting on an article he written
more than thirty years before, Charles Peirce said that he had
changed his mind on many issues at least a half-dozen times but had
'never been able to think differently on the question of nominalism
and realism.'" [Buchler vii]
3.
Gallie [71], and Goudge [98] second, the
complaint -- by citing Buchler.
4.
Peirce suggests that absolute individuals cannot
be "realized in sense or thought... [or] exist, properly speaking...
All, therefore, that we perceive or think, or that exists, is
general. So far there is truth in the doctrine of scholastic
realism." [3.93n1]
5.
These are Peirce's italics. Note especially the
words "active" and "really operative." We will discuss this aspect
of Peirce's realism later (section IV),
6. Gallie
offers here (74) a clear "adaptation: of Peirce (1.211) See also
Peirce 5-431
7.
The idea that we need to search for things that
"all horses [or whatever] have in common," if we are to make sense
of "natural classes" is, I think, nicely refuted by Wittgenstein’s
notion of "family resemblance." It is quite possible, by this
account, for all horses to share no common trait.
[Wittgenstein 67].
8.
Peirce’s meaning here (of "cognitionary
character") totally evades me. The remark seems out of place -- even
contradictory.
9.
My italics -- and please note this strange
admission (by Goudge, alas, not Peirce).
10.
This phrase of Peirce from 5.316.
11.
The reader will no doubt be confounded by the
obscurity of the foregoing exposition and dialogue. I confess that
this writer is confounded by it all too. Part of this difficulty, no
doubt, is (a) due to the rather brief, frantic and a superficial
examination of this rather difficult topic. But a great deal of the
problem lies, I believe, (b) with Peirce himself. Those who have
conducted more thorough research than my own seem to bear out this
observation (e.g. Boler, Buchler, Goudge, McKeon and Thompson -- see
Bibliography). A fairer assessment on my part (and perchance a
consequent shifting of the blame from myself to Peirce) would
require the sort of exhaustive labor and circumspect scrutiny that
is appropriately practiced by writers of doctoral dissertations. For
me, however, that shall be another time and, I presume, another
topic.
12.
"From the proposition that every thought is a
sign, it follows that every thought must address itself to some
other, must determine some other, since that is the essence of a
sign." 5.253.
13.
Examples of such exotic language systems are to be found in my
masters thesis, A Preface to Linguistic Relativity. See
especially, chapter 2, sections 13--19. See also: Benjamin Lee
Whorf, Language, Thought and Reality.
14. Contrary, that
is, in the usual logical sense. I.e.: -(P&Q) which is equivalent to
-P v-Q (by deMorgan's law)
15. Gallie
examines three "offenses" of Peirce is realism, against this charge.
I believe that I have responded to the substance of these in this
paper.
16. A confirmed
experiment is of the logical form: (Hypothesis & premise1 & premise2
to... & premise-n) --> predictive event. A confirmed prediction is
thus an affirmed consequent -- deductively invalid, if inductively
significant.
17. The answer is
not entirely empty, for it suggests that the "active ingredient" is
contained in the opium rather than, say, that the opium acts
psycho-somatically, or that a catalyst activates a "principal" in
the body. But even this is unclear
18. Hume, for
example didn't argue that heavy objects might fall up -- just that,
in principle, we have no necessary knowledge as to why, in fact,
they always manage to fall down. Nonetheless, we jolly well better
continue to believe it -- especially if we like to climb mountains.
19. In Runes’s
Dictionary of Philosophy, James Fiebleman gives this account of "nominalism:"
"In scholastic philosophy, the theory that abstract or general
terms, or universals, represent no objective real existents, but are
mere words or names, mere vocal utterances, '"flatus vocis."
[Too extreme for my taste. EP]. Reality is admitted only to actual
physical particulars. Universals exist only post res.
Opposite of realism which maintains that universals exist ante res
... In the first frankly novelistic system, Ockham
distinguished between the real and the grammatical meanings of terms
or universals. He assigned a real status to universals in the mind,
and thus was the first to see that nominalism can have a subjective
as well as an objective aspect. He maintained that to our
intellects, however, everything real must be some particular
individual thing." [Runes 211].
20. In this
particular case am referring to a more ordinary kind of realism than
Peirce’s. His tychism would involve him in a belief in
"leaky" objects.
21.
I call
this logical trap "The problem of the Pope." "The Pope is said to be
infallible when he speaks ex cathedra on matters of faith and
morals. The trouble is that there is no infallible tests (for the
Pope or his flock) to determine whether or not any given
pronouncement is ex cathedra. This is equivalent to saying
that the Pope is not infallible. (This may not be inaccurate account
of Roman Catholic doctrine. However, true or false, it serves to
illustrate my point)." [Cf. Ernest Partridge,
"Criteria and
Privacy," Autumn 1967. Unpublished]..
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Blau, Joseph, Men and Movements
in American Philosophy, Prentice-Hall, 1958.
Boler, J. F., Charles Peirce and
Scholastic Realism, Seattle: University of Washington Press.
1963.
Bronstein, Daniel, "Inquiry and
Meaning," in Studies in the Philosophy of Charles S. Peirce,
. Weiner and F. H. Young (eds), Harvard University Press, 1952,
p.33.
Buchler, Justus, Charles Peirce’s
Empiricism, Harcourt Brace, 1939.
Feibleman, James, "Nominalism,"
Dictionary of Philosophy, (ed). D. B. Runes, Philosophical
Library.
Gallie, W. B., Peirce and
Pragmatism. Penguin books, 1952.
Gallie, W. B., "Peirce’ Pragmatism."
(Weiner and Young), p. 61
Goudge, T. A.,The Thought of C. S.,
Peirce, University of Toronto Press, 1950.
McKeon, Charles, Peirce’s Scotistic
Realism. (Weiner and Young).
Murphey, M., "Charles Sanders
Peirce," Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Free Press, 1967, Vol.
6, page 70.
Partridge, Ernest,
Preface to
Linguistic Relativity, Masters Thesis, University of Utah, 1961.
Peirce, C. S., Collected Papers,
(edited by Hartshorne and Weiss), Harvard University Press, 1934.
Peirce, C. S, "Review of Fraser’s
Berkeley," reprinted in Collected Papers, volume 8.
Thompson, Manley, "The Paradox of
Peirce’s Realism,) (Weiner and Young)
Wittgenstein, Ludwig,
Philosophical Investigations, MacMillan, 1953.
Whorf, B. L., Language, Thought
and Reality, MIT: Technology Press, 1941.
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