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STANDARDS OF RATIONAL THOUGHT AND ACTION

We need standards of rational thought and of rational action more general than either of the older standards. This claim is contrary to the tradition one, according to which science is autonomous and hence cannot abide by external standards.

Traditionally the standards of science were equated with the standards of rationality; the new religious avant- garde merely adds that there are different standards of rationality in the different fields of human thought and action - science being a prominent one, but not the only one.

Would we be better off giving up the illusion of self-reliance and settling down with a commitment? It is here that criteria diverge. Common sense is usually - but certainly not always and not on principle - against both illusion and commitment, against self-deception and dogmatism. Yet, it seems that we must give in to one or the other. Say which, and you have decided whether to enter the rationalistic tradition of unadulterated science or to switch to the new tradition of reconciliation with religion.

Let us first see clearly why the commitment and the illusion are so very inimical to each other.

A. Let us approach things first from the rationalistic point of view. To be precise, the issues discussed here are not scientific. Should we approach them scientifically, and, if so, how? The viewpoint traditionally endorsed by scientists, the scientific attitude, so called, is the readiness to apply the method of science to all intellectual activity, to all intellectual problems, to the attempted solutions to them, and to the examination and the application of the better of these solutions. Such a viewpoint, of course, prejudges the issue of a possible complement to science in the sense discussed here - the intellectual or enlightening sense. Let us examine this viewpoint for awhile, even though it is prejudiced.

Can we apply the scientific attitude outside the usual domain of science? To answer this we ask, “What is the application of the scientific attitude?” The traditional answer is that the scientific attitude is the application of scientific method. Now we must ask, “What is scientific method?” The traditional answer is vague, except on one point: Whatever scientific method is, it is an empirical method - and in that it involves the quest for empirical evidence. Now we can reformulate the question, “Can we apply the scientific attitude outside the usual domain of science?” into the question, “Is scientific method essentially empirical, namely, is there any intellectual activity to which we can apply scientific method of inquiry without thereby rendering the inquiry empirical?” The traditional answer is, “No: enlightenment=rationality=science = empiricalness.” This is classical rationalism and classical positivism, of course.

The most obvious criticism of it is that logic and mathematics are rational yet unempirical. As late as 1922 this criticism worried Ludwig Wittgenstein; his Tractatus Logico Philosophicus contains a supreme effort to do away with logic (including mathematics) by declaring it a peripheral, unintended by-product, and as such, rather senseless. A sen­tence can be meaningless like the sentences of theology, metaphysics, and ethics - which, strictly speaking, are no sentences at all (just as poetry contains no elements of arithmetic, even when appearances give contrary impressions) - and a sentence can also be properly framed, but simply say nothing, just as zero is a number, and as a map can be mapped onto itself, and as a mill can grind water. For Wittgenstein, logic and mathematics were rather senseless freaks because he wished to accept the equation at the end of the preceding paragraph in all its narrowness. They really did not exist for him any more than ordinarily zero counts as a number. The totality of true propositions, he said, is the total natural science!

When we break away from such a narrow rationalistic attitude, namely from strict classical positivism, we feel the great need to dis­tinguish between the scientific and the rational, and we feel the strong urge to define the rational as broader than the scientific.

More than that - much more. We may wish to explain the desirability of science, of the application of scientific method, in terms of ration­ality. And this amounts to the wish to have the criteria of rationality put limits to the applicability of scientific method. But this means that the field of rationality should be wider than the field of science - in the sense of the existence of instances of discourse which are rational and yet nonscientific (and, to keep matters neat, nonmathematical, nonlogical as well). For, if we want to decide rationally where to apply scientific method, we also want to decide where to refrain from such ap­plication and so allow, a priori, such possibilities. The criterion of ration­ality would, consequently, be deeper than the criterion of scientific charac­ter, at least as an instrument for making decisions when to apply scientific method and when not. All this is impossible within the old positivist frame­work where the identity of rationality and empiricalness is determined a priori.

B. But why should such a fruitful and useful activity as science be in need of justification in terms outside its own? Pierre Duhem stressed that science ought to be autonomous, that is, not judged by any external criteria. For, he said, scientists need not share any external criteria, yet they support the unanimity which all scientific activities enjoy. If science be judged by external standards, divergence concerning these will destroy unanimity in science.

The autonomy of science, as advocated by Duhem, is a dual auton­omy; first, concerning the rationality of its method, and second, concern­ing the lack of metaphysical commitment of its content. The threat to either kind of autonomy is a threat to the unanimity observed to rule science. The autonomy of method is the undesirability of judging scientific standards by external standards of rationality. The autonomy based on freedom from any metaphysical commitment prevents metaphysical disagreements from leaking into science.

Thus, we cannot judge the acceptability of the continuum theory of elasticity and of the atomic theory of thermodynamics, by either a metaphysical commitment to an Aristotelean antiatomistic process metaphysics or to a Democritean atomistic-mechanistic metaphysics. Both Aristotelean and Democritean agree about both elasticity and thermodynamics; hence physics and meta­physics cannot clash. Metaphysics alone pertains to reality; physics (i.e., empirical science in general) handles only phenomena and prediction, only economy and usefulness, perhaps aesthetic value to boot, but not truth and not finality. Thus spake Duhem.

Duhem’s concept of the autonomy of science is very close to the classical rationalistic conception as advocated by the Royal Society, except that the old rationalists forbade commitment to any meta­physics prior to its having gained scientific status, and Duhem took it for granted that everyone has a metaphysics and not all scientists are in agreement about metaphysics. This seems a very plausible and congenial modification of the view of the autonomy of science. Yet its main thrust concerns not the autonomy of science but the autonomy of metaphysics - and in the sense that metaphysics need not be troubled or constrained by science. That is, the autonomy of metaphysics is secured by depriving theoretical science of its informativeness.

From the autonomy of metaphysics to the autonomy of religion there is but one step. It is no accident that the new positivists prefer to debate at length the autonomy of science. They so act on the presumption that once the autonomy of science is decided, the rest follows easily: first the autonomy of metaphysics, and then of religion. If science is judged by universal standards of rationality, these have to apply elsewhere, thus leading to the (Russellian) ideal of applying the scientific attitude wherever possible. This, they claim, makes no sense. Where one applies the scientific attitude one applies the empirical method and achieves science, so one cannot apply the scientific attitude elsewhere; elsewhere meaning metaphysics, which either does not exist (old rationalism) or has its own standards (new positivism).

The claim for the autonomy of science thus leads the new positivists to claim autonomy for other fields as well. When the practitioner of metaphysics fears science, what he really fears is that he transgresses and trespasses; and, indeed, science tolerates no trespass. But then, neither does metaphysics. Bellarmine was right in denying Galileo the right of trespass into metaphysics and theology, but wrong in that he permitted himself to trespass into the domain of science. So both Bellarmine and Galileo were wrong in the clash (the one was naive and the other was overconfident, they add, but let things rest in gener­alities); the correct attitude, then, should be that of autonomy, of no possible clash. This is the new positivism of the religious avant-garde (which I wish to combat).

Duhem and Wittgenstein (when young) were both narrow positiv­ists, recognizing no standard and beyond those of science. But, whereas Wittgenstein endorsed science and only science, Duhem endorsed science when dealing with matters scientific, and religion when dealing with matters religious. Doubtless, Duhem’s position is superior to Wittgen­stein’s. Between the two, the new is more tolerant of metaphysical commitment and in this it is preferable to the old.

C. The decisive argument of the previous paragraphs is defective on two accounts. The first is this. Unanimity in science was classically endorsed as a corollary of the idea of certitude. Now that certitude has been given up as a bad job anyhow, we need not endorse unanimity. Certainty was indeed overthrown because unanimity was exploded. Twentieth-century physicists disagree with practically all nineteenth­century physicists about atoms, about action at a distance, and about geometry. Duhem speaks of a new brand of unanimity - the agreement of living scientists amongst themselves, to say the most. Even this agree­ment is highly questionable. Faraday, for example, attacked the accepted views on atomicity and of action at a distance.

In his day he could be dismissed as a small minority; yet today the majority sides with him against the majority of his day; so today it is harder to dismiss him. Thus, we cannot declare even unanimity among nineteenth-centure physicists!

Anyway, what is the value of unanimity? The criteria of science must be subject to external criteria, and extreme traditional positivism must be avoided in order to avoid dogmatism. To say that the criteria of science are valuable for the sake of unanimity, or fruitfulness, or what have you, is to value what have you, and thus to judge the criteria of science by some external criteria. Duhem knew all this; he did not commend unanimity but observed its existence. But, of course, his observation is false: He himself as a physicist followed Ampere and Weber and attacked Faraday and Maxwell.

The same holds for religion. To say that the family that prays together stays together is to value religion as an instrument; it is a positivistic attitude toward religion; religious positivism so called. It is likewise based on a false observation. Religious positivism is empirically refuted yet it is consistent with religion proper: One may hold that religion is both right and useful. However, most religious positivists do not care whether religion is right or wrong, and even are prepared to concede that it is partly wrong, partly meaningless mumbo-jumbo. Alternatively, if one holds that religion is both right and useful, one has to say which of these two characteristics one values more; that is, one has to say this, for the sake of critical debate. For, if we try to make a person alter his views, we wish to know which criterion he employs in his act of changing his views.

Let us elaborate on this point for a moment. Of course, if one’s de­fense of religion because of its usefulness collapses, one may indeed attempt to defend it on theological and metaphysical grounds. This, however, may be a reflection on one’s intellectual makeup. Perhaps one is using delaying tactics, perhaps one is attached to a position and will not relinquish it until all defenses of it fail, perhaps one is not attached but is loyal to one’s position, and perhaps one simply thinks one ought not to alter frivolously one’s view under insufficient pressure. One’s opponent may feel frustrated, but then one’s opponent was in error when pursuing a line of attack in depth before attempting even a super­ficial survey of the opponent’s defenses. Will the opponent capitu­late more easily when this defense of his collapses, or that, or both? and so on. Taking things intellectually rather than personally, the same question reads: Which criterion is more significant? Any attempt to sidestep this question may amount to the claim that religion is both truthful and useful because of some necessary link between truth and utility. This claim, then, should be explored first as the deepest. Even further, will the deepest claim about such a link be true, useful, or what? Will it, Heaven forbid, be empirical and thus lead the believer to mix his theology and his science?

On this line of attack one can expose the new religious avant-garde as religious positivists who base their philosophy on empirically unex­amined but easily examinable claims about the roles of religion.

IX.

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Source: Agassi Joseph. Science in Flux. Springer,1975. — 559 p.. 1975

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