Mark Glouberman

In what respect, if any, is Kant a distinctively “critical” thinker? How does Kant’s “transcendentalism” differentiate his practice in metaphysics from that of the philosophers of the Cartesian tradition? How much does the success of Kant’s enterprise depend on the viability of the idea of the synthetic a priori? The issues that these questions raise came to a head for Kant in the attack on his novelty by the Leibnizean Johann August Eberhard, an attack to which Kant responded at length in the sarcastically titled On a discovery according to which any new critique of pure reason has been made superfluous by an earlier one. Unfortunately, Kant’s apology is quite inconclusive. In this discussion, in an effort to shed some light on the murk, I supply text-sensitive analyses of the various key notions. It emerges that while, as Eberhard complained, the “critical” turn is not at all a methodological novelty, Kant’s procedure does mark a departure from traditional metaphysics, though not one that he himself describes at all clearly. Kant’s “transcendentalism” ultimately constitutes an open-ended and ever-widening interrogation of logical possibility; hence an interrogation that, contrary to what Kant himself claims, can never furnish what legitimately counts as “proof.”

Registrants for the academic study of philosophy, expecting an encounter with special cognitive products, regal truths, are soon enough disabused. Philosophy, its supposedly special access to the structure of things exploded, is relegated to sundry tasks of intellectual hygiene. I track down the source of the unrealistic view, anatomising what has a strong claim to be regarded as the regal enterprise’s inau¬gural reasoning—in Plato. When professionals consider the successor activity that is called ‘philosophy,’ they should therefore wonder about the label. The deposition of she who was once known as Queen of the Sciences is, I argue, really the end of philosophy. Does the prevail¬ing professional attitude attest to mere nostalgia? In fact, the view of philo¬sophy as (say) conceptual enquiry inherits some of the fantasy. To the extent that continued use of the label is internally justified, that signals a deeper mistake on the part of the users about the truth.

The first "Critique", Kant states inaugurates a perfectly new science'. But this transcendental philosophy', for dealing in possibilities, not actualities, does not qualify as philosophy in the traditional sense. What Kant dubs transcendental idealism' "is" however an (ontological) doctrine about things. Kant's doctrinal stand is thus inconsistent with his description of transcendental enquiry. Since transcendental idealism gets its meaning from the contrast with Cartesian realism, it follows that Kant must implicitly be granting that in some measure at least the earlier metaphysicians did what they said they were doing. Indeed, Kant must be relying on some part of what they did. It follows that if there is a "via media" between traditional Cartesian metaphysics and Hume's backgammon, Kant does not locate it

Does the character called “God” make an essential contribution to the [Hebrew] Bible? So far as religion and religiosity are concerned, the Bible minus the character called “God” is not theoretically incomplete. In other words, the Bible is not at core a theological document. From this it does not however follow that the deity of the Bible is theoretically otiose. The character called “God” plays a role that is indispensable for anthropological reasons. The self-definition and self-understanding of men and women who define and understand themselves as you and I do cannot be accomplished without at least implicit appeal to that role. The key to the theoretical disposition of the Bible is an appreciation of the fact that it is expressly designed to counteract pagan-type views about the nature of men and women and about their position in the wider scheme of things.

In Descartes: The Project of Pure Enquiry, Bernard Williams supplies an interpretation of Descartes's Meditations in which the meditator's clean sweep of initial beliefs is justified by a stance that abrogates all practical pressures: the stance of pure enquiry. Otherwise, Williams explains, it would not be reasonable to set many of the initial beliefs aside. Nowhere, however, does Descartes assert that his approach is in this sense ?pure?. It would of course be preferable if the meditator's rejection of all the initial beliefs did not require an abrogation of the conditions that govern everyday belief-formation and assessment. I supply a reading that accomplishes this. The key to this reading is recognition that Descartes is a thinker of his time, a time when the pre-modern worldview was being systematically rejected. I show, in this regard, that when Descartes characterizes a belief as ?uncertain?, this has the implication that the belief is false. And, certainly, the rational policy, without need for any special stance, is to reject falsehoods

Did Descartes make a revolutionary contribution to philosophy? Given the widespread application to him of the title ‘father of modem philosophy,’ the standard affirmative proves surprisingly difficult to justify. ln this paper I locate Descartes’s epoch-making philosophical shift. Descartes contributed a very strong idea of realism, an idea modelled in his cogito-argument. To grasp the contribution aright, it is however necessary to de-emphasise what is usually identified as his key contribution---an epistemological one. AIso, the theoretical connection between Descartes’s core philosophical activity and the scientific revolution of his time has to be appreciated. ln the course of the discussion I explain, in a more philosophical vein, how the influence of Kant clouds the abiIity of post-Kantians to see what Descartes did. A route to an understanding of Descartes’s realism is an inconsistency in Kant’s modal views. The antirealism of Kant’s view---his transcendental idealism---yields up some of its mystery once the dialectical interplay with Cartesian realism is elicited.

1. The distinction between the functions of sense and intellect in cognition is first given its modern form by Kant. According to one influential commentator, Jonathan Bennett, “Kant’s breakthrough” in fact consists precisely in liberating himself from his predecessors’ misconceptions in this regard. It is true that the categorial duality of receptivity and spontaneity—of intuition and concept—is not to be found in the major classical writings prior to Kant. In its place, one encounters a relativized distinction. The empiricist Hume, for example, describes a conceptual element or “idea” as differing only in “vivacity” from an item of sensory intake or “impression,” and the rationalist Leibniz says of a state of “pure” intellection that it differs from a perceptual state in being clear of the residuum of cognitive “confusion” which taints the latter.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:32. HUME ON MODES As thorough a critic as Norman Kemp Smith states in his investigation of the Treatise that "Hume's treatment of... the complex ideas of modes... need not detain us." Whatever is interesting in this brief treatment, Smith suggests, rests on remarkable features of Humean doctrine, elsewhere expounded at length. This is true, I would agree, as a descriptive comment to the following degree. The category of modes is officially regarded by Hume as highly marginal, even dispensible. But it is not in fact the case that, intrasystematically, the work of modes can be duplicated in non-modal materials. In this discussion I will show that Hume mistakes the case, and attempts to diagnose the error's deep sources. To the naked eye, the mistake seems perhaps small and reparable. Placed under the microscope, we find an important philosophical conception is at stake. Our raw material comprises the explanations of modality provided by Locke and Hume. Modes, according to Locke, are complex ideas which, however compounded, contain not in them the supposition of subsisting by themselves, but are considered as dependences on, or affections of, substances; such are the ideas signified by the words, triangle, grati2 tude, murder, etc. (2.12.4). Hume's account is similar in appearance. The idea... of a mode... is nothing but a collection of simple ideas.... The simple ideas of which modes are formed, either represent qualities, which are not united by contiguity and causation, but are dispers ' d in different subjects ; or if 33. they be all united together, the uniting principle is not regarded as the foundation of the complex idea. The idea of a dance is an instance of the first kind of modes; that of beauty of the second (I. I. VI). The appearance of harmony is capped by the uniformity in examples: Locke also mentions 'beauty' (2.12.5) as a modal term, and between his 'murder' and Hume's 'dance' there is nothing to choose. One small difference remains. The idea of dependence, prominent in Locke's sketch, is absent from the Treatise passage quoted. This disparity is eliminated by the following remark, temporarily withheld above: the difference betwixt [substances and modes] consists in this, that the particular qualities, which form a substance, are commonly referr'd to an unknown something, in which they are supposed to inhere (I. I. VI). Superficially then, both Locke and Hume might be thought to subscribe to the following theses. The designata of modal terms, but not of substantial terms, lack independence (I will call this 'the Modal Dependence Thesis' or 'MDT'). Modal terms designate complex ideas in the same way as do those substantial terms which designate complex ideas (this will be referred to as 'the Modal Complexity Thesis' or 1MCT'). But while Locke supports MDT, Hume rejects it, and whereas Hume advocates MCT, Locke — when pressed — will be found to disagree with it. Let us start with MDT. To establish that the category of modes is regarded, intrasystematically, as superfluous by Hume is to confirm the disagreement here between the two theorists. Hume categorically dismisses what Locke describes by the phrase 'a something I know not what' as contributing 34. to any particular idea of a substance. Accordingly, the designata of modal as well as substantial terms resolve identically under analysis, i.e. into combinations of simple ideas. Hume mentions a differentiating factor: the principle of union of simple ideas in the case of a substance scores higher in naturalness than in the case of a mode. The components of a substantial idea are "closely and inseparably connected by the relations of contiguity and causation" (I. I. VI), which are 'natural'. But Hume's own examples expose this as an ineffective device of differentiation, one to which Hume himself attaches little importance. Where is the unnaturalness in the case of the (modal) designata of 'beauty' and 'dance'? How — more pointedly — is the complexity involved in the (substantial) designata of 'dog' and 'table' more natural? Any difference here is one that Hume does well to play down and neutralise of all but sentimental significance. In adducing the idea of naturalness to explain the difference felt by the common...

In the book A Secular Age, Charles Taylor argues that: (1) modern secularism carries in it more than a trace residue of the explicitly religious way of thinking that it supersedes, and (2) the secular ensemble would not survive if the residue were filtered out. Modern secularism is not, in short, exclusively humanistic. Many who profess exclusive humanism, even perhaps the majority, are therefore—according to Taylor—exclusive humanists in name alone. My position is that Judeo-Christianity, in its teachings about men and women, is humanism. Humanism is what Western religion is all about at its core. This I defend by close examination of Taylor’s argument and by exposing some of the philosophical core of the Bible.

The notion of a particular is what makes the Bible (the reference is to the Hebrew Scriptures) an original position in philosophy. (Particulars are self-contained spatio-temporal entities, and hence, though present in the system that is nature, are not essentially parts of it.) The early chapters of Genesis develop a comprehensive (anti-pagan) conceptualization of reality that gives particularity its due. Whether particularity can be secured without a fully extra-natural anchorage (i.e., without God) is a live issue. As the case may be, the philosophy of the Bible is not a footnote, not even a substantial footnote, to Plato. Plato’s metaphysical discourse cannot handle the particular. An irreducibly different, ontological, discourse is needed for that. Having conceived the new notion (the act of conception is dramatized in the theophany of Genesis 12), Abraham, the philosopher of the paper’s title, ‘called…on the name of the Lord’ (Genesis 21:33) to the men and women of the world. The particularity of God, I explain, not God’s numerical uniqueness, is the essence of monotheism

A potential proselyte asks the great rabbi Hillel to explain the Torah to him while he stands ‘on one leg.’ Hillel responds with, essentially, the Golden Rule. This Talmudic anecdote is invariably read as critical of anyone who wants a Torah for Dummies. I offer a different interpretation. The Torah-based position, theologically speaking, rests on one principle and one principle alone, God. ‘How can an account of the creation as a whole rest on one principle only? Won’t such a structure stand unsteadily, like a person on one leg?’ Hillel’s response to the request for a distillation of the Torah does home in on the Bible’s novelty. It homes in on what God does and what pagan deities cannot do. But God’s contribution, while needed to account for the human sector of the creation, cannot manage the extra-human sector. For that, a principle that belongs to paganism is required. The whole can stand steadily, as can the proselyte, only on two legs. So his conversation must be with reservations. He might not be able to intone the main creedal profession of the Torah-based religion, the Shema. ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord [alone] is our God, the Lord is one’ (Deuteronomy 6:4). The Torah’s defenders have more of a case to make.

“By transcendental idealism,” Kant explains, “I mean the doctrine that appearances are … representations only, not things in themselves, and that time and space are therefore only sensible forms of our intuition, not determinations given as existing by themselves, nor conditions of objects viewed as things in themselves” ; “… by our sensibility … we do not apprehend [things in themselves] in any fashion whatsoever”. The phenomenality of the objective realm, according to Kant, follows from the fact that the principles of objective knowledge, which demarcate that realm, have validity only for us.

Ever ramifying debate over the correct analysis of linguistic representation unfolds against the backdrop of uncontested acceptance as baseline datum, by those aiming to determine the nature of the cognizing subject’s contact with the world, of language as the vehicle of factual packaging of experience. Given the easy two-way traffic in the contemporary lexicon between “concept” and “ word,” the modern reader’s antennae are not attuned to detect doctrinal parti pris when he encounters the mention, in a classical text, of concepts in the course of a treatment of cognition. Kant’s declaration that “[t]he knowledge yielded by understanding, or at least by the human understanding, must…be by means of concepts” will likely be glossed as an archaic variant of the baseline datum. While it does not go unnoticed by those acquainted with the major texts of the tradition that a Descartes and a Hume speak of ideas and not concepts, this is approached, more often than not, as a verbal variant on the common theme. Of course, closer attention to the sources reveals that Kant presents cognition-by-concepts as part of a theory of cognition supplanting the ideational accounts of his predecessors. But subject to a certain amount of textual reform—prophylactic and reconstructive—cognition-by-concepts and cognition-by-ideas continue to be regarded as functional equivalents. The superiority of Kant’s treatment is accordingly evaluated conservatively, as the superiority of a more penetrative analysis.

Unhappy with a recent submission of mine, a referee for a journal specialising in the history of philosophy wagged a finger at what he or she called my ‘hermeneutical principles’. Though I am no stranger to the collegial woodshed, my initial reaction was nonetheless one of surprise. For had I then been asked about interpretive methodology I would have scoffed. The construer’s best course, I would have said, is to nose about the texts until some rough shape begins to emerge from the murk, and to inch forward in an effort to block in details, frequently doubling back for more nosing about. Isn’t this —fill, back, adjust, refill, back again, re-adjust—a counsel of anti-method?

In a recent 5‐to‐4 decision, the Supreme Court of Canada denied to Harvard University a patent on a genetically modified mouse. In their reasoning, the majority Justices, concerned obviously about the implications of granting the patent for the human case, argue that higher organisms (mammals) are not “compositions of matter” in the sense intended by the Canadian Patent Act. But if a mouse is not a composition of matter, what—indeed, what on earth—is it? As the minority Justices complain, the majority decision smacks of dubious metaphysics and theology. Appealing to a quite unlikely source, the Bible, I show that the distinction between mice and men can be defended without introducing problematic metaphysical and question‐begging theological materials. I also show, en route, that the biblical position on the special status of men and women is not inconsistent with evolutionary theory. Granting a patent on the mouse (as was done in the U.S.A.) is compatible with denying it to human organisms.

Throughout the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant locates his position relative to those of his predecessors and near contemporaries. Save for Spinoza, all the ‘greats’ of the early modern canon put in appearances. But while Kant’s idiom is respectful—Hume is referred to as ‘celebrated’ ; Berkeley is characterised as ‘good’ ; both Locke and Leibniz are called ‘illustrious’ —this ‘language of good will’ recalls Mark Antony’s ‘honourable man’. In fact, the debt Kant acknowledges to the prior toilers is largely negative: the earlier thinkers adhere to views whose correction or rejection enabled Kant to win through to the truth.

RÉSUMÉ: La Bible éclaire la distinction kantienne entre les apparences et les choses en soi. Les deux récits bibliques de la création, dans Genèse 1 et 2, offrent différentes analyses ontologiques, et seule la deuxième est, comme les apparences de Kant, relative à la condition humaine. Mais, tandis que l’autre région dont Kant parle est sans caractérisation positive, la Bible décrit amplement le monde tel qu’il est avant l’avènement des hommes et des femmes. La Bible traite de ce domaine du point de vue de l’infra-humain. Cette approche essentiellement anthropologique de l’idée des apparences clarifie l’idéalisme transcendantal.