7.3 CONVERGENCE: JOHN DEWEY
It is now time to look at the writings of Chen, Gao, and their contemporaries from a comparative perspective. I suggested earlier that a certain amount of convergence can be discerned between Chinese writers on quanli in these years and their contemporaries in the West.
Before considering what we should make of this convergence, let us first look at a prominent instance.Most Western thinkers who have exerted influence in China have done so primarily via translations of their writings - often translations of which they were unaware. John Dewey (1859-1952) was an exception, and I choose to look at him for this reason: The explanation for the many resonances between his ideas and those of Chen and Gao cannot simply be that they read, and were convinced by, his writings. Prior to Dewey’s arrival in China in May 1919, he had received little attention in Chinese scholarly circles, and none of his books or articles had been translated.[196] During his two-year stay in China he gave numerous lectures (always assisted by a translator); transcriptions of many were published in newspapers and magazines. For reasons that will be clear as we proceed, Dewey’s ideas resonated with some of the directions in which Chinese social and political discourse had been heading already, and his formulations were consequently embraced by many - even if, as we now know, China was simultaneously moving toward an increasingly polarized political world that would soon find Dewey’s experimentalism irrelevant.
The most well known of Dewey’s lectures were those on social and political philosophy, delivered in Beijing in November of 1919 and recorded by Gao Yihan, among others. As we look at Dewey’s views, it will become apparent why Gao might have found them congenial, but in this regard it is important to recall that the majority of Gao’s writings examined earlier were published before Dewey arrived in China: Gao was not influenced by Dewey; rather, he found in Dewey a kindred spirit.
I should note that similarities between Dewey’s ideas and Chinese thought have been remarked upon recently by David Hall and Roger Ames, who write that “Deweyan social theory... resonates in a striking manner with much classical and contemporary understanding of Chinese society insofar as Confucianism informs it” [Hall & Ames 1999, p. 117]. They base this conclusion on a comparison of Dewey’s published writings with their interpretation of classical Confucianism; as such, its relevance to twentieth- and twenty-first-century Chinese society depends on the somewhat speculative premise that “Confucianism informs” such a society. I say this not to reject their hypothesis, but to suggest that my analysis here may complement their reasoning by showing how thinkers like Gao are reasoning within a discourse or tradition that has at least some of its roots in Confucianism.Modern readers of Dewey’s lectures are apt to find them frustratingly elusive when it comes to the sources or justifications of the goals he sets out. He says, for instance, that his social philosophy is superior to earlier ones since it “makes possible rational and dispassionate discussion of contending ends, and their evaluation in terms of probable advantage to the whole social fabric.”[197] This is a criterion, if a vague one, but he says little about why we should choose it, other than because it is a method which will, he alleges, produce some concrete resolutions to concrete problems. Even if he is correct, though, why should we think of the resolutions toward which his theory directs us as correct? Similarly, in the next lecture, he begins by stating that the “ultimate criterion” for habits, customs, and social institutions generally was “the degree to which the matter being judged could contribute to the development and qualitative enhancement of associated living” [Dewey 1973, p. 90]. Again, this is a reasonably clear criterion, but why should we accept it? A few paragraphs later, Dewey says: “In these, as in all other aspects, the society which we desire is one in which there is maximum opportunity for free exchange and communication” [ibid., p.
92]. Who is “we”?I do not mean to suggest that Dewey’s text contains no hints of the answers to these questions. Before filling out his answers, I want to consider one possible answer which is instructive, though incorrect. Perhaps Dewey saw things like the “enhancement of associated living” as vital because they help us to realize basic human rights. He mentions human rights prominently in his discussion of the stages through which social reform proceeds. A society begins from tacit acceptance of the status quo, which is then challenged as society changes, and ultimately the reform achieves “fruition” [ibid., pp. 76-8]. Dewey discusses both the women’s movement and the labor movement specifically, and says that a central component of the challenge these groups mounted had to do with “propounding the doctrine of natural rights,” for the former, and “a conviction that they were entitled to certain human rights,” for the latter. One can readily gain the impression from such passages that human rights are the standard against which societies are judged.
Such an impression is misleading. “Human rights” are crucial to the rhetoric of the challenge phase because they purport to be a standard independent of the values a society happens to have: That is why they are useful in justifying reform or revolution. This same feature, though, makes them incompatible with Dewey’s pragmatist framework. He denies that there is any transcendent, culturally neutral set of rights that is ours by nature. If we examine the third stage of social reform, we will see this in practice. Dewey writes of the labor movement that, “In the third phase people became aware of the fact that the labor problem is not just one of individuals, but a social problem; that meeting the demands of the movement not only enhances the welfare of the indi
generally cite the translated English versions, referring to the Chinese originals when necessary. viduals involved, but promotes the welfare of the whole society” [ibid., pp.
78-9]. In general, he says, “it is only as the subordinate group gains numbers, strength, and public recognition that it becomes apparent that the things they demand can be defined as genuine social needs” [ibid.]. It is revealing that Dewey does not say that this final stage represents recognition of people’s actual human rights; instead, he speaks of “social needs.” This really returns us to our original question: What are these social needs, and by what standard are they assessed?As I have said, Dewey does provide a few hints in his Beijing lectures as to what standard he is ultimately following. In the lecture on associated living, for instance, he writes that
When people exist under arrangements which call for some to rule and others to be ruled, some to command and others to obey, integration of the society cannot proceed, nor can the society hope to remain stable, because this disparity of status and function breeds conflict and induces disorder. At the same time, this pattern of dominance-subservience makes the development of personality extremely difficult, if not impossible - and strangely enough, this is as true of the dominant group as it is of those in the subservient group. [1973, p. 92]
This passage criticizes certain social arrangements on two fronts: They make an integrated and stable society impossible, and they similarly render the “development of personality” impractical for all members of the society. A few pages later, Dewey echoes this latter concern, when he introduces his more specific arguments against authoritarian society by saying, “Let us look now at the effects upon human personality which may be observed in a society that fails to prize and seek the values of associated living” [ibid., p. 96]. “Personality” in the first passage, and “human personality” in the second, are both translations of “renge” [Dewey 1919, pp. 179, 181].
It appears as if the development of a flourishing personality - understood by Dewey’s audience as “renge” - is at least a partial standard against which societal practices can be measured.
Examination of Dewey’s English texts reveals that this is in fact the case, and also that social integration, too, is related to satisfactory personality development. Dewey believed that moral questions only arise when one is faced with two or more incompatible values competing for one’s choice. A decision in which one simply decides which of two actions would be more pleasurable, for instance, is not moral but “technical.” When one must decide between alternatives that cannot be measured on a single scale, one is faced with a genuinely moral situation. Dewey writes that in such situations, “the question finally at stake [is]: what shall the agent be?” He continues: “When ends are genuinely incompatible, no common denominator can be found except by deciding what sort of character is most highly prized and shall be given supremacy.”[198] In fact Dewey tells us more than that the object of our moral choices should be improving our characters; he tells us what general standards to use in making such a determination. As Jennifer Welchman explains in detail, Dewey instructs us to choose ends which contribute to the formation of harmonious, flexible, and stable characters, since these are the characteristics which make for “true or moral satisfaction.”[199] I might add that Dewey bases this conclusion on the idea that “the good life” is not some static goal, but the overcoming of an ongoing series of challenges, and argues that people with the kind of character or personality that he recommends will fare best in our ever-changing social world [ibid., pp. 162-6, 191]. “Personality” and “character” are basically equivalent for Dewey, both referring to the traits that centrally determine how we interact with our world.[200]What, then, of rights? In his Ethics, they do not play an important theoretical role. He does offer a clue to his conception of rights, though, when he asserts that the highest virtue of social institutions is “effective freedom,” by which he means “both freedom from interference by others as well as freedom to command resources essential for the realization of one’s desires and aims” [Welchman 1995, p.
194]. Effective freedom, in other words, combines what we have come to think of as both positive and negative aspects. Given this understanding of freedom, we should expect that Dewey’s view of rights will similarly encompass both negative limiting and positive enabling.When we return to Dewey’s Beijing lectures on social and political thought, we find that this expectation is fulfilled. Dewey writes that A right means the power which the individual has been granted to do something according to the law. He can do what he does because he has been granted the power by the law - by law which is supported and maintained by the power of the whole society. In other words, society buttresses the law and thus supports the power which the law grants to the individual person.... [Thus] the individual’s freedom in law and in politics is the sum total of his various rights. [Dewey 1973, p. 148]
Implicit in this conception of rights as “powers” are the twin positive and negative aspects alluded to earlier: The right-as-power tells us that we are both permitted and enabled to do something.
A final important feature of Dewey’s treatment of rights is the relationship between rights and responsibilities. In the Beijing lectures we read: “Every right enjoyed by an individual has as its obverse an obligation. For example, a person has a right to own property, but his right imposes upon him the obligation to respect the same right for each of his fellow men” [ibid.]. Dewey elaborates on this example, pointing out that respecting the right to property can entail things like using a contract when buying or selling, paying a tax on transactions, having deeds recorded, and so on. We see here the implications of Dewey’s view that the enjoyment of a right is a power which therefore demands the support of a society’s legal machinery. To have such rights, we must be members of a society which supports them, which means to actively participate in their fulfillment: These are the “obligations” that correspond to each right.[201]
The similarities between Dewey’s ideas about rights and those of Chen Duxiu and Gao Yihan are marked and pervasive. When I noted at the outset of this chapter that neither of the Chinese thinkers had read Dewey - nor, for that matter, had Dewey read either Chinese author - I did not mean to imply that there were no common influences that might explain their similarities. It is at least the case that Chen and Gao read or read about many of the same Western thinkers that Dewey read: Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, and others. Then, too, there is the idea that Western thought was becoming increasingly, if implicitly, “sinified,” as noted in the introduction to this chapter. To some uncertain extent, the convergence arose by coincidence: two strands within two traditions tending, for a time and for their own reasons, to be both locally prominent and globally similar. Out of such coincidences are larger communities made; in the writings and in the careers of all three men we can see the idea that we live in a shared world, with shared concerns, concretely exemplified. Finding ways to sustain such a feeling of community can be central to preserving a consensus on values, rather than allowing such a convergence to disintegrate. I will return to these themes in the book’s final chapters. For now, let me turn to the aspect of global civilization toward which Chen himself turned, namely Marxism.