[265] _Op. cit._, p. 521.

[266] _Op. cit._, p. 522 f.

[267] _Ibid._, p. 536.

[268] _Op. cit._, p. 538.

[269] _Ibid._, p. 540.

[270] _Op. cit._, p. 541.

[271] _Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol.

XII, 1915, pp. 337-345.

[272] _Op. cit._, p. 340.

[273] _Ibid._

[274] _Ibid._, p. 345.

[275] _Op. cit._, p. 339.

[276] _Ibid._, p. 343.

[277] _Ibid._, p. 344.

[278] _Op. cit._, p. 345.

[279] _Ibid._

[280] _Ibid._

CHAPTER IX

CONCLUSIONS

Dewey's interest as a philosopher centres, from first to last, upon knowledge and the knowing process. All that is vital in his ethical, social, and educational theories depends ultimately upon the special interpretation of the function of knowledge which const.i.tutes his chief claim to philosophical distinction. Dewey's logical theory, as has been seen, was the natural and inevitable outcome of his demand for an empirical and 'psychological' description of thought as a 'transformatory' process working actual changes in reality. If in the beginning of his career he found the problem of the nature of knowledge all-important for his own interests, he came in the end to regard it as the problem of problems for all philosophers. There is no mistaking Dewey's conviction that the special interpretation of knowledge which he advocates opens the door to important advances in philosophical speculation, while it ends all discussion of those pseudo-problems which result from a false, epistemological formulation of the function of knowledge.

The history of the development of Dewey's thought, set forth in the preceding chapters, does not pretend to furnish an adequate estimate of his philosophical system. The two questions, of origin and worth, are, after all, distinct. The genetic account of Dewey's theory of knowledge may serve to make its bearings and implications better understood, may reveal its deeper meaning and import, but the final estimate of its value as a philosophical hypothesis depends on other considerations. In this final chapter, it is proposed to deal with the question of the positive value of functionalism as a working hypothesis. This criticism may also serve to gather together the threads of criticism and comment which run through the previous chapters, and reveal the general ground upon which the writer's opposition to Dewey's theory is based.

There can be no question that Dewey's theory of knowledge rests, finally, upon the doctrine of 'immediate empiricism;' upon his belief in "the necessity of employing in philosophy the direct descriptive method that has now made its way in all the natural sciences...."[281] This doctrine is clearly stated in the first essay reviewed in this study, "The Psychological Standpoint" (1886). To quote again from that essay: "The psychological standpoint as it has developed itself is this: all that is, is for consciousness or knowledge. The business of the psychologist is to give a genetic account of the various elements within this consciousness, and thereby fix their place, determine their validity, and at the same time show definitely what the real and eternal nature of this consciousness is."[282] The descriptive method here advocated does not differ, as an actual mode of procedure, from that of Dewey's later empiricism. It lies at the basis of all his speculation, earlier as well as later, and is undoubtedly the most important single element in his philosophical system.

In "The Psychological Standpoint" Dewey ascribes the failure of the earlier empiricists to their desertion of the direct descriptive method (a criticism repeated frequently in later essays). Locke, for instance, instead of describing experience as it actually occurs, interprets it in terms of certain a.s.sumed simple sensations, the products of reflection.

These non-experienced elements, Dewey believes, have no place in a purely empirical philosophy.

But the empiricist must deal in some manner with the products of reflection. The atoms of chemistry and the elements of the psychologist are not experienced facts, but still they play a valuable, indispensable role in the technique of the sciences. What is to be done with them? It must be made to appear that they are valid within knowledge, but invalid elsewhere. This leads to a separation of knowing from other modes of experiencing, and the descriptive method is depended upon to maintain the empirical validity of the separation. It has been seen how Dewey's attempt to interpret knowledge led gradually to a distinction between the 'cognitional' and the 'non-cognitional' processes of experience.

The completed theory of knowledge depends for its validity upon the distinction thus established between knowing (as reflective thought) and the practical att.i.tudes of life. The concepts, elements, and other apparatus of reflection are employed, it is said, only when there is thinking,--and this is only occasionally. Theory is an instrument to be used in connection with that special activity, reflective thought, the general aim of which is the furtherance of the practical ends of life.

One fairly obvious difficulty with this separation of reflection from the other life activities is that the 'direct descriptive method,' as here employed, is itself reflective. How does it come, then, that this particular method achieves such an effective hegemony over the other modes of reflection? The 'descriptive method,' as the method of pure experience, is made to determine or supplant all other methods. It defines the limits and aims of conceptual systems; it marks out the limits, aims, and tests of reflective thought in general. How, it may be asked, does the 'direct descriptive method' escape the limitations which it imposes upon the other forms of reflective thought?

It has been seen that in Dewey's view logic is subsidiary to psychology.

But psychology (his psychology) results from the application of the 'descriptive method' to experience. The 'descriptive method,' it may be inferred from this, is not subject to logical criticism. On the contrary, it is the basis of all logic. Logic, as the criticism of categories, is confined to the study of the instrumental concepts as functioning within the knowledge experience, and its limits are set by descriptive psychology. There is, apparently, no means by which the 'direct descriptive method' can itself be brought under criticism.

Dewey says: "By our postulate, things are what they are experienced to be; and, unless knowing is the sole and only genuine mode of experiencing, it is fallacious to say that Reality is just and exclusively what it is or would be to an all-competent all-knower; or even that it _is_, relatively and piece-meal, what it is to a finite and partial knower."[283] Reality is not simply what it is known as, for it is experienced in other ways than by being known. "But I venture to repeat that ... the inferential factor must _exist_, or must occur, and that all existence is direct and vital, so that philosophy can pa.s.s upon its nature--as upon the nature of all of the rest of its subject-matter--only by first ascertaining what it exists or occurs _as_."[284]

Reflection, then, is not designed to furnish an insight into the nature of things. Acquaintance with reality must be obtained, not by reflecting upon it, but by describing it as it occurs. Whatever else this may mean, it certainly aims at demonstrating the superiority of description to the supposedly less effective modes of thought. It cannot be conceded, however, that 'description,' as employed by Dewey, is non-reflective, or super-reflective. If things are not what they are known as, then they are not what they are known as to a describer. The point of this objection will be obvious if it is remembered that it is the method of 'direct description' which enables Dewey to distinguish between the 'cognitional' and the 'non-cognitional' activities of life, and make thought the servant of action. If Dewey's descriptive method is not reflective, then there is no such thing as reflection.

Pa.s.sing for the moment from this criticism, which is not apt to be convincing in such abstract form, it may be well to consider for a time the psychology upon which Dewey's logical theory is grounded: the psychology which is established by the 'direct descriptive method.'

From the standpoint of the nervous correlates of experience, Dewey's theory involves two postulates: first, that customary conduct is carried on by an habitual set of nervous adjustments, and, second, that reflection is a process whereby new reactions are established when habitual modes of response fail to meet a critical situation.

It must be clearly recognized that, so far as the nervous system is concerned, the scheme is highly speculative. The advance made by physiology towards an a.n.a.lysis and understanding of the minute and specialized parts of the nervous organism has necessarily been slow and uncertain. Whatever plausibility Dewey's theory possesses must depend, not upon the technical results of neurology, but upon the external evidence which seems to justify some such scheme of nervous organization.

An examination of this evidence shows that it falls under two main heads: (1) facts drawn from the observation of the outward behavior of the organism, and (2) facts derived from an introspective a.n.a.lysis of the thought-process.

The study of behavior shows that man thinks only now and then. Most of his conduct is, literally, thoughtless. It is said that thought is outwardly manifested by a characteristic att.i.tude, marked by hesitation and an obvious effort at adjustment. The introspective a.n.a.lysis of the thought-process shows that it alone, among experiences, is accompanied by a.n.a.lysis, abstraction, and mediation. Again, both the internal and external evidence show that a puzzling situation (whose nervous correlate is a conflict of impulses) is the stimulus which awakens thought. These are important items in the list of evidence which supports the functional theory.

It would be a tedious and unnecessary task to subject each of these bits of evidence to empirical criticism. It will be better to deal with them by showing that they do not necessarily imply functionalism, since they are compatible with a psychology directly opposed to the fundamental a.s.sumptions of Dewey's theory.

It is doubtless true that men think only occasionally and with some reluctance. This is a common observation. What is to be made of this intermittance of thought? The evidence merely shows that man is more wide awake, energetic, and alert at some times than at others. On these occasions every faculty of the organism is in operation, higher as well as lower centres are pitched to a high degree of responsiveness, not at hap-hazard, to be sure, but _apropos_--tuned to the situation. In saying that men think only now and then nothing more is necessarily implied than that men are for the most part sluggish and indifferent, and the periods of high intensification of the normal processes contrast sharply with the habitual lethargy of conduct.

Against Dewey, it will be maintained here that thought cannot be defined as a special kind of activity considered from the side of the organism. The life processes are constantly welded into a single unified activity, which may, as a whole, be directed upon different objects.

Thus, from the side of its objects, this life activity may be called eating, running, reading, and whatever else one chooses. Thinking, from this standpoint, may be defined as the direction of effort upon symbols and abstract terms. But thinking in this case would be identified on the basis of its content, not in terms of special nervous activities in the organism. Whether, therefore, thinking signifies that intense periodical activity which has been noted, or preoccupation with a certain kind of subject-matter, it in no case implies the operation of a special organic faculty of the type described by Dewey.

But, again, it is said that true reflection is marked by a certain characteristic bodily att.i.tude, which bespeaks inner conflict and a search for adjustment. This contention seems to have little ground in fact. The puzzled, hesitating, undecided expression that is usually supposed to betray deep cogitation may in fact mean simply hesitation and bewilderment,--the need for thought, rather than its presence. The expression reveals a certain degree of incompetence and sluggishness in the individual concerned, and signifies a lack of wide-awakeness and responsiveness. A student puzzling over his algebra, a speaker extemporizing an argument, a ball-player using all his resources to defeat the enemy, have att.i.tudes so unlike that no a.n.a.lysis could discover in them a common form of expression. And yet it would be madness to deny that thinking attends their various performances. There is, in short, no evidence from the side of bodily expression to indicate the presence in man of a special nervous faculty called reflection.

Consider next the contention that the cue to thought is a puzzling situation, involving a problem. No problem, no thought; no thought, no problem. This may mean either that a man finding himself in a difficult situation uses all his energy and resource to escape from it, or, that he never concerns himself with abstract symbols except under the spur of necessity. The former meaning contains some truth, but the latter is what Dewey would call a 'dark saying.' If by 'thought' be meant that period of high activity of all the faculties which is only occasional, it is doubtless true enough that a problem is frequently needed to awaken it. Man is content to let life glide along with a minimum of effort; he cannot, if he would, long maintain the state of high activity here called 'thinking.' As a consequence of not thinking when he should, man frequently finds himself involved in situations requiring the exercise of all the energy and resource he possesses. But the really efficient 'thinker' is the man who keeps his eyes open, who sees ahead.

He is not efficient merely because of the excellence of his established modes of response, but, more particularly, because he is alive and alert. His thinking is effective in preventing difficult situations, as well as in getting out of them.

Defining 'thought,' however, as the direction of activity upon symbols and conceptions, there seems to be little warrant for a.s.serting that it functions only on the occasion of a concrete, specific problem. One would say, on the contrary, that this would be an unfavorable occasion for the study of fundamental principles, whether scientific or practical. Summing up the external evidence, then, one would say that it accords as well with the hypothesis that the life processes const.i.tute a single activity directed upon various objects, as with the hypothesis that thought is a very special organic activity, having a special biological function. At least, the evidence for the existence of such a special faculty is dubious and uncertain.

What does the internal evidence prove? The a.n.a.lysis of thought contained in James's chapter on "Reasoning" in the _Principles of Psychology_ has been the guide for Dewey and other pragmatists in this connection.[285]

James undertakes to show that reasoning is marked off from other processes by the employment of a.n.a.lysis, abstraction, and the use of mediating terms. It must be urged here, not only against James, but against a considerable modern tradition, that this account of thinking is misleading and inaccurate. The question to be faced, of course, is whether the processes of thought differ radically from the non-reflective processes _in kind_, or whether they are simply the intensification of processes which attend all conscious life. It should be noted that no concession is made to the notion that thinking is a special kind of process; only its subject-matter is special, or else thought is simply a period of wide-awakeness and alertness. In the latter sense, thought involves an intensification of the powers of observation, an awakening of memory, a general stimulation of all the faculties. It calls for the fullest possible apprehension, demands the most complete insight into the nature of the situation that the capacities can provide. The contrast between the adequate view of reality achieved in this manner and the common and inadequate apprehension of ordinary life is very great, and might easily lead to the supposition that thinking (so understood) contains elements which are added through the activities of a special nerve process.

But is it only in such moments that we deliberately resolve a situation into its elements, and abstract an 'essence' to serve as a middle term in inference? It is certain that at such moments these processes are more distinct than at other times; but the whole situation, for that matter, stands out more clearly and distinctly. Perception is keener, memory more definite, feeling more intense. In less degree, however, all attention involves a.n.a.lysis and abstraction. Experience has always a focus and a margin; there is a constant selecting and a.n.a.lyzing out of important elements, which in turn lead to further conclusions and acts, through a.s.sociations by contiguity and similarity. This process appears in an intensified form in the high moments of life. In short, thought and pa.s.sive perception are differentiated, not by the elements which compose them, but by the degree of energy that goes into perception, memory, feeling, and discrimination. There is nothing in the evidence to show that thinking is a special kind of activity, which operates now and then. On the contrary, there is every reason to hold to the position that the life processes are one and inseparable, operating continually in conjunction.

What shall be said, then, with reference to the a.s.sertion that thought operates in the interests of the non-cognitive life processes? That it comes 'after something and for the sake of something,' namely, 'direct'

experience? Since the separation of the activities into various 'functions' cannot be allowed, by occasional thought must then be meant those moments of energetic aliveness described above. Translating, Dewey's theory would read something like this: Man employs his faculties to the fullest extent only when he is compelled to do so. He gets along habitually, that is, with a minimum of effort, as long as he can, but rouses himself and makes an earnest effort to comprehend the world only when his environment presents him with difficulties which demand solution. The test of man's thinking consists in its efficiency in getting him out of trouble, and enabling him to return to his habitual modes of sub-conscious conduct with a minimum of annoyance. In short, thinking is an instrument which subserves man's natural laziness, and its test is the efficiency with which it promotes an easy, or, at any rate, a satisfactory mode of existence.

No doubt some men, perhaps many men, do follow such a programme; but it would not be kind to Nature to a.s.sert that she planned it so.

This separation of the activities of life into several distinct processes having each a special function looks like a survival of the old faculty psychology, against which modern thought has protested as much as against anything whatever. The conception of the organic processes as separate in action has all the faults of a merely mechanical representation of consciousness. Doubtless some advantage is to be obtained, for purposes of investigation, by treating thought, appreciation, and affection separately; but it is a serious error to take this provisional distinction as real. It is a curious fact that Dewey, with all his opposition to such modes of procedure, himself falls into this abstract way of treating the 'functions' of experience, seeing not the beam that is in his own eye.