First, as to the problems of philosophy when pragmatically approached,
Mr. James says: "The whole function of philosophy ought to be to find
out what definite difference it will make to you and me, at definite
instants of our life, if this world-formula or that world-formula be
true" (p. 50). Here the world-formula is assumed as already given; it
is there, defined and constituted, and the question is as to its
import if believed. But from the second standpoint, that of idea as
working hypothesis, the chief function of philosophy is not to find
out what difference ready-made formulae make, _if true_, but to
arrive at and to clarify their _meaning as programs of behavior for
modifying the existent world_. From this standpoint, the meaning of a
world-formula is practical and moral, not merely in the consequences
which flow from accepting a certain conceptual content as true, but as
regards that content itself. And thus at the very outset we are
compelled to face this question: Does Mr. James employ the pragmatic
method to discover the value in terms of consequences in life of some
formula which has its logical content already fixed; or does he employ
it to criticize and revise and, ultimately, to constitute the meaning
of that formula? If it is the first, there is danger that the
pragmatic method will be employed only to vivify, if not validate,
doctrines which in themselves are pieces of rationalistic metaphysics,
not inherently pragmatic. If the last, there is danger that some
readers will think old notions are being confirmed, when in truth they
are being translated into new and inconsistent notions.
Consider the case of design. Mr. James begins with accepting a
ready-made notion, to which he then applies the pragmatic criterion.
The traditional notion is that of a "seeing force that runs things."
This is rationalistically and retrospectively empty; its being there
makes no difference. (This seems to overlook the fact that the past
world may be just what it is in virtue of the difference which a blind
force or a seeing force has already made in it. A pragmatist as well
as a rationalist may reply that it makes no difference retrospectively
only because we leave out the most important retrospective
difference). But "returning with it into experience, we gain a more
confiding outlook on the future. If not a blind force, but a seeing
force, runs things, we may reasonably expect better issues. _This
vague confidence in the future is the sole pragmatic meaning at
present discernible in the terms design and designer_" (p. 115,
italics mine). Now is this meaning intended to _replace_ the meaning
of a "seeing force which runs things"? Or is it intended to superadd a
pragmatic value and validation to that concept of a seeing force? Or
does it mean that, irrespective of the existence of any such object, a
belief in it has that value? Strict pragmatism would seem to require
the first interpretation.
The same difficulties arise in the discussion of spiritualistic theism
_versus_ materialism. Compare the two following statements: "The
notion of God ... guarantees an ideal order that shall be permanently
preserved" (p. 106). "Here, then, in these different emotional and
practical appeals, in these adjustments of our attitudes of hope and
expectation, and all the delicate consequences which their differences
entail, _lie the real meanings of materialism and spiritualism_" (p.
107, italics mine). Does the latter method of determining the meaning
of, say, a spiritual God afford the substitute for the conception of
him as a "superhuman power" effecting the eternal preservation of
something; does it, that is, define God, supply the content for our
notion of God? Or does it merely superadd a value to a meaning already
fixed? And, if the latter, does the object, God as defined, or the
notion, or the belief (the acceptance of the notion) effect these
consequent values? In either of the latter alternatives, the good or
valuable consequences cannot clarify the meaning or conception of God;
for, by the argument, they proceed from a prior definition of God.
They cannot prove, or render more probable, the existence of such a
being, for, by the argument, these desirable consequences depend upon
accepting such an existence; and not even pragmatism can prove an
existence from desirable consequences which themselves exist only when
and if that other existence is there. On the other hand, if the
pragmatic method is not applied simply to tell the value of a belief
or controversy, but to fix the meaning of the terms involved in the
belief, resulting consequences would serve to constitute the entire
meaning, intellectual as well as practical, of the terms; and hence
the pragmatic method would simply abolish the meaning of an antecedent
power which will perpetuate eternally some existence. For that
consequence flows not from the belief or idea, but from the existence,
the power. It is not pragmatic at all.
Accordingly, when Mr. James says: "Other than this _practical_
significance, the words God, free will, design, _have none_. Yet dark
though they be in themselves, or intellectualistically taken, when we
bear them on to life's thicket with us, the darkness then grows light
about us" (p. 121, italics mine), what is meant? Is it meant that when
we take the intellectualistic notion and employ it, it gets value in
the way of results, and hence then has some value of its own; or is it
meant that the intellectual content itself must be determined in terms
of the changes effected in the ordering of life's thicket? An explicit
declaration on this point would settle, I think, not merely a point
interesting in itself, but one essential to the determination of what
is pragmatic method. For myself, I have no hesitation in saying that
it seems unpragmatic for pragmatism to content itself with finding out
the value of a conception whose own inherent significance pragmatism
has not first determined; a fact which entails that it be taken not as
a truth but simply as a working hypothesis. In the particular case in
question, moreover, it is difficult to see how the pragmatic method
could possibly be applied to a notion of "eternal perpetuation,"
which, by its nature, can never be empirically verified, or cashed in
any particular case.
This brings us to the question of truth. The problem here is also
ambiguous in advance of definition. Does the problem of what is truth
refer to discovering the "true meaning" of something; or to
discovering what an idea has to effect, and how, in order to be true;
or to discovering what the value of truth is when it is an existent
and accomplished fact? (1) We may, of course, find the "true meaning"
of a thing, as distinct from its incorrect interpretation, without
thereby establishing the truth of the "true meaning"--as we may
dispute about the "true meaning" of a passage in the classics
concerning Centaurs, without the determination of its true sense
establishing the truth of the notion that there are Centaurs.
Occasionally this "true meaning" seems to be what Mr. James has in
mind, as when, after the passage upon design already quoted, he goes
on: "But if cosmic confidence is right, not wrong, better, not worse,
that [vague confidence in the future] is a most important meaning.
That much at least of possible 'truth' the terms will then have in
them" (p. 115). "Truth" here seems to mean that design has a genuine,
not merely conventional or verbal, meaning: that something is at
stake. And there are frequently points where "truth" seems to mean
just meaning that is genuine as distinct from empty or verbal. (2) But
the problem of the meaning of truth may also refer to the meaning or
value of truths that already exist as truths. We have them; they
exist; now what do they mean? The answer is: "True ideas lead us into
useful verbal and conceptual quarters as well as directly up to useful
sensible termini. They lead to consistency, stability, and flowing
human intercourse" (p. 215). This, referring to things already true, I
do not suppose the most case-hardened rationalist would question; and
even if he questions the pragmatic contention that these consequences
define the meaning of truth, he should see that here is not given an
account of what it means for an idea to _become true_, but only of
what it means _after_ it has become true, truth as _fait accompli_. It
is the meaning of truth as _fait accompli_ which is here defined.
Bearing this in mind, I do not know why a mild-tempered rationalist
should object to the doctrine that truth is valuable not _per se_, but
because, when given, it leads to desirable consequences. "The true
thought is useful here because the home which is its object is useful.
The practical value of true ideas is thus primarily derived from the
practical importance of their objects to us" (p. 203). And many
besides confirmed pragmatists, any utilitarian, for example, would be
willing to say that our duty to pursue "truth" is conditioned upon its
leading to objects which upon the whole are valuable. "The concrete
benefits we gain are what we mean by calling the pursuit a duty" (p.
231, compare p. 76). (3) Difficulties have arisen chiefly because Mr.
James is charged with converting simply the foregoing proposition, and
arguing that since true ideas are good, any idea if good in any way is
true. Certainly transition from one of these conceptions to the other
is facilitated by the fact that ideas are tested as to their validity
by a certain goodness, viz., whether they are good for accomplishing
what they intend, for what they claim to be good for, that is,
certain modifications in prior given existences. In this case, it is
the idea which is practical, since it is essentially an intent and
plan of altering prior existences in a specific situation, which is
indicated to be unsatisfactory by the very fact that it needs or
suggests a specific modification. Then arises the theory that ideas as
ideas are always working hypotheses concerning the attaining of
particular empirical results, and are tentative programs (or sketches
of method) for attaining them. If we stick consistently to this notion
of ideas, only _consequences which are actually produced by the
working of the idea in co-operation with, or application to, prior
existences are good consequences in the specific sense of good which
is relevant to establishing the truth of an idea_. This is, at times,
unequivocally recognized by Mr. James. (See, for example, the
reference to veri-_fication_, on p. 201; the acceptance of the idea
that verification means the advent of the object intended, on p. 205.)
But at other times any good which flows from acceptance of a belief is
treated as if it were an evidence, _in so far_, of the truth of the
idea. This holds particularly when theological notions are under
consideration. Light would be thrown upon how Mr. James conceives this
matter by statements on such points as these: If ideas terminate in
good consequences, but yet the goodness of the consequences was no
part of the intention of an idea, does the goodness have any verifying
force? If the goodness of consequences arises from the context of the
idea in belief rather than from the idea itself, does it have any
verifying force?[74] If an idea leads to consequences which are good
in the _one_ respect only of fulfilling the intent of the idea (as
when one drinks a liquid to test the idea that it is a poison), does
the badness of the consequences in every other respect detract from
the verifying force of consequences?
Since Mr. James has referred to me as saying "truth is what gives
satisfaction" (p. 234), I may remark (apart from the fact that I do
not think I ever said that truth is what _gives_ satisfaction) that I
have never identified any satisfaction with the truth of an idea, save
_that_ satisfaction which arises when the idea as working hypothesis
or tentative method is applied to prior existences in such a way as to
fulfil what it intends.
My final impression (which I cannot adequately prove) is that upon the
whole Mr. James is most concerned to enforce, as against rationalism,
two conclusions about the character of truths as _faits accomplis_:
namely, that they are made, not a priori, or eternally in
existence,[75] and that their value or importance is not static, but
dynamic and practical. The special question of _how_ truths are made
is not particularly relevant to this anti-rationalistic crusade, while
it is the chief question of interest to many. Because of this conflict
of problems, what Mr. James says about the value of truth when
accomplished is likely to be interpreted by some as a criterion of the
truth of ideas; while, on the other hand, Mr. James himself is likely
to pass lightly from the consequences that determine the worth of a
belief to those which decide the worth of an idea. When Mr. James says
the function of giving "satisfaction in marrying previous parts of
experience with newer parts" is necessary in order to establish truth,
the doctrine is unambiguous. The satisfactory character of
consequences is itself measured and defined by the conditions which
led up to it; the inherently satisfactory quality of results is not
taken as validating the antecedent intellectual operations. But when
he says (not of his own position, but of an opponent's[76]) of the
idea of an absolute, "so far as it affords such comfort it surely is
not sterile, it has that amount of value; it performs a concrete
function. As a good pragmatist I myself ought to call the absolute
true _in so far forth_ then; and I unhesitatingly now do so" (p. 73),
the doctrine seems to be as unambiguous in the other direction: that
any good, consequent upon acceptance of a belief is, in so far
forth,[77] a warrant of truth. In such passages as the following
(which are of the common type) the two notions seem blended together:
"Ideas become true just in so far as they help us to get into
satisfactory relations with other parts of our experience" (p. 58);
and, again, on the same page: "Any idea that will carry us
_prosperously_ from any one part of our experience to any other part,
linking things _satisfactorily_, working securely, simplifying, saving
labor, is true for just so much" (italics mine). An explicit statement
as to whether the carrying function, the linking of things, is
satisfactory and prosperous and hence true in so far as it executes
the intent of an idea; or whether the satisfaction and prosperity
reside in the material consequences on their own account and in that
aspect make the idea true, would, I am sure, locate the point at issue
and economize and fructify future discussion. At present pragmatism is
accepted by those whose own notions are thoroughly rationalistic in
make-up as a means of refurbishing, galvanizing, and justifying those
very notions. It is rejected by non-rationalists (empiricists and
naturalistic idealists) because it seems to them identified with the
notion that pragmatism holds that the desirability of certain beliefs
overrides the question of the meaning of the ideas involved in them
and the existence of objects denoted by them. Others (like myself),
who believe thoroughly in pragmatism as a method of orientation, as
defined by Mr. James, and who would apply the method to the
determination of the meaning of objects, the intent and worth of ideas
as ideas, and to the human and moral value of beliefs, when these
various problems are carefully distinguished from one another, do not
know whether they are pragmatists in some other sense, because they
are not sure whether the practical, in the sense of desirable facts
which define the worth of a belief, is confused with the practical as
an attitude imposed by objects, and with the practical as a power and
function of ideas to effect changes in prior existences. Hence the
importance of knowing which one of the three senses of practical is
conveyed in any given passage.
It would do Mr. James an injustice, however, to stop here. His real
doctrine is that a belief is true when it satisfies both personal
needs and the requirements of objective things. Speaking of
pragmatism, he says, "Her only test of probable truth is what works
best in the way of _leading us_, what fits every part of life best and
_combines with the collectivity of experience's demands_, nothing
being omitted" (p. 80, italics mine). And again, "That new idea is
truest which performs most felicitously its function of satisfying
_our double urgency_" (p. 64). It does not appear certain from the
context that this "double urgency" is that of the personal and the
objective demands, respectively, but it is probable (see, also, p.
217, where "consistency with previous truth and novel fact" is said to
be "always the most imperious claimant"). On this basis, the "in so
far forth" of the truth of the absolute because of the comfort it
supplies, means that one of the two conditions which need to be
satisfied has been met, so that if the idea of the absolute met the
other one also, it would be quite true. I have no doubt this is Mr.
James's meaning, and it sufficiently safeguards him from the charge
that pragmatism means that anything which is agreeable is true. At the
same time, I do not think, in logical strictness, that satisfying one
of two tests, when satisfaction of both is required, can be said to
constitute a belief true even "in so far forth."