1 The Critical Discourse of Liberal Humanism Skepticism and the Origins of Modern Critique , Moral Critique: eason and

Moral Sense , Libert! and Human ights , Historical Critique ,

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"ant#s S!stematic estatement: Liberal Humanism as Critical ationalism , 38 $ost%&nlightenment Liberal Humanism: Matthe' (rnold#s )Culture of Criticism) and *ts Successors , 43 Liberal Humanism Toda! , +ibliographic &ssa! , 45 46

1
The Critical Discourse of Liberal Humanism
The first modern critical discourse arose during the Enlightenment. In fact, one might say that the defining characteristic of Enlightenment thought was a new, self consciously critical attitude toward !re"ailing cultural !ractices and institutions. #lthough the $roadly li$eral humanist $asis for the Enlightenment%s cultural criticism has itself $een attac&ed $y "irtually e"ery su$se'uent critical discourse, we should not o"erloo& its crucial role in initiating a !ro(ect that has continued into our own time. #s we will see, the critical discourse that commenced in the Enlightenment in"ol"ed se"eral different strands. )till, the cultural critics of the Enlightenment all shared a num$er of im!ortant con"ictions* these !ermit us to refer to their collecti"e orientation, des!ite their other differences, as that of li$eral humanism. The first and most !er"asi"e characteristic was a common o!!osition to any claim to truth or &nowledge $ased solely on authority. #t the $eginning of the modern era, there were three ma(or sources of authority of !articular concern to Enlightenment thin&ers+ the church, the state, and ,reco -oman anti'uity. .uring the /iddle #ges, the -oman 0atholic church was the most im!ortant, !er"asi"e, and !owerful cultural institution. #lthough the uni"ersality of its influence had $een seriously challenged in the early si1teenth century during the -eformation, the su$se'uent fragmentation of the 0atholic church into "arious com!eting religious grou!s often resulted in an o"erall intensification rather than a waning of the influence of religious $eliefs, !ractices, and institutions on culture. The $igotry, intolerance, and "iolence fre'uently resulting from adherence to o!!osed religious creeds !ro"o&ed critical res!onses from early Enlightenment thin&ers, who increasingly came to regard the institutionali2ed religions% demands of faith on the !art of their followers as diametrically o!!osed to reason, to the human $eing%s natural a$ility to ad(udicate claims to truth for itself. The -eformation was closely connected with the historical emergence of the modern nation state, a geogra!hical area with fi1ed $oundaries under a single, centrali2ed !olitical authority. In many !laces in Euro!e, the nation state first too& the form of

a$solute monarchy, $ased on a theory of the di"ine right of &ings, itself su!!orted $y the authority of religious doctrine. #gain, while their concrete !oliti 24 cal "iews ranged o"er a wide s!ectrum, almost all Enlightenment critics agreed that the legitimate e1ercise of !olitical authority was a secular 'uestion rather than a religious one and that in some form, the consent of the go"erned should !lay an im!ortant role in such considerations. #gainst the a$solutist state as the !rimary locus of !olitical right, the !ro!onents of the Enlightenment came to assert the !rimacy of the indi"idual as the ultimate $earer of !olitical rights and the li$erty of the indi"idual as at least one of the aims of any legitimate state. 3oth church and state often in"o&ed the authority of anti'uity to $olster their claims, es!ecially in cases where scri!tural authority was am$iguous or silent. /ost influential were the 4latonic doctrine of a natural !olitical hierarchy and the #ristotelian "iew of a static cosmos articulated into eternally fi1ed genera and s!ecies. Enlightenment thin&ers did not hesitate to cite anti'uity for their own !ur!oses, $ut they tended to shift em!hasis from the more 5!rimiti"e5 ,ree&s to the more 5ci"ili2ed,5 !ractical, and 6to their minds7 re!u$lican -omans as their historical and intellectual fore$ears. The undermining of #ristotelian natural !hiloso!hy $y the new mathematical sciences and the growing sense of the !olitical order as dynamic and su$(ect to !ur!osi"e human inter"ention com$ined to !roduce a new sense of history as constituting a field of o!en ended and indefinite human !rogress. Thus, the Enlightenment%s cultural critics tended to "iew their $asic tas& as that of o!!osing one notion of culture theocentric, authoritarian, and static with the "ision of another anthro!ocentric, li$eral, and !rogressi"e which through their own intellectual and !ractical efforts should gradually re!lace the former. The strategies of cultural criti'ue de"elo!ed $y the !arty of Enlightenment were, in turn, determined $y this u$i'uitous contrast $etween a $ar$aric culture of su!erstition, ignorance, and re!ression and the newly emergent ci"ili2ed culture of well grounded &nowledge, indi"idual li$erty, and historical !rogress, the latter !osition fairly summed u! in the !hrase li$eral humanism. The !ro!onents of li$eral humanism often tended to "iew themsel"es as a $eleaguered $and of ci"ili2ed philosophes who firmly and o!timistically $elie"ed that $y s!reading their gos!el of Enlightenment !rimarily through their literary acti"ities, they could gradually come to dis!lace 5medie"al $ar$arism5 with their own 5modern ci"ili2ation.5 8i&e some later critical discourses, that of li$eral humanism in"ol"ed a num$er of distinguisha$le strategies of cultural criti'ue that, intertwined in "arious configurations, remain influential today.

Skepticism and the Origins of Modern Critique

4ro$a$ly the earliest and most straightforward ty!e of cultural criti'ue was that of s&e!ticism, which in"ol"ed $oth a general critical attitude toward all claims to &nowledge on the $asis of authority and a more s!ecific !rocess of challenging !articular claims case $y case. )ocrates !racticed a form of s&e!ticism in his insistent interrogation of the o!inions of his interlocutors and his unwillingness to 25 ma&e any final claims on his own !art. # $it later, during 9ellenistic times, a recogni2ed school of s&e!tical !ost 4latonic !hiloso!hy emerged, carrying forward this strand of )ocratic 4latonic thought. 9owe"er, most ancient forms of s&e!ticism were relati"ely ad hoc and !iecemeal. /odern s&e!ticism differs from them in its attem!t to !ro"ide a systematic framewor& for identifying the "arious ways of &nowing or ty!es of &nowledge claims and the s!ecific sorts of arguments or considerations that can $e $rought against each.

:ne of the first and most enduring !resentations of s&e!ticism can $e found in the Novum Organum 6 ;6207 of <rancis 3acon 6 ;56; ;6267, which was !art of his com!rehensi"e attem!t to re!lace the old Organon of #ristotle with a new configuration of human &nowledge conduci"e to the emergence of the 5new science.5 9owe"er, 3acon%s Theory of the Idols 6the name he ga"e to his !articular form of s&e!tical criti'ue7 was more than (ust a set of challenges to !articular !re"ailing ideas or a narrow treatise on e!istemological themes. -ather, it must $e read as a genuine document of modern cultural criti'ue, oriented as it is toward e1amining the "arious sources of human delusion and the manners in which they are institutionali2ed in culture. 3acon identified four main sources of human error and delusion, which he referred to as idols, deli$erately suggesting the distinction $etween $ar$arism and ci"ili2ation discussed a$o"e. #lso characteristic of 3acon%s modern a!!roach is his insistence that although the human ca!acity for self delusion is natural, it must $e seen as intimately connected with and reinforced $y its institutionali2ation in cultural forms, which tend $oth to e1aggerate and to !er!etuate it. In his theory of the idols, 3acon offered an early e1am!le of what later thin&ers would refer to as 5ideological criti'ue.5 The first ma(or source of human error 3acon identified as the idols of the tri$e. )uch errors and delusions arise from the general manner in which the human understanding o!erates. :n the one hand, we must rely on sensory data to &now the world around us, $ut such data are im!recise and gi"e us no idea of the real !hysical mechanisms at wor& in the su$stances with which we are ac'uainted. :n the other, we tend to organi2e and filter our sensations through a$stract conce!ts, which ta&e us e"en further from the real material causes underlying the data of the senses. =e are thus naturally led to ta&e for reality what is actually a highly selecti"e and a$stracted !icture of our own ma&ing. )econd, 3acon called our attention to what he referred to as idols of the ca"e. This !hrase, of course, recalls 4lato%s famous allegory in the si1th $oo& of the Republic. #s a natural de"elo!ment from the first idol, indi"iduals will tend to fa"or one or another a$stract !icture of the world de!ending on their own !eculiar a$ilities, !re(udices, and !ro!ensities. )ome indi"iduals will e1cel at detailed analysis, others at $road synthesis, and each will fa"or a "iew of the world or a !articular disci!line that $est fits those a$ilities and yields the greatest !ersonal satisfaction. :ur own indi"idual idiosyncrasies thus will tend to $e !ro(ected on the world and ta&en as an accurate !icture of it. 26 3acon noted that 5the most trou$lesome of all5 are the idols of the mar&et!lace, which arise from 5the alliances of words and names.5 3acon thus accorded language a !i"otal !lace in the !ractice of cultural criti'ue, arguing that language, while natural and indis!ensa$le to human cultural intercourse, nonetheless har$ors the ca!acity for the greatest delusion. In !articular, we must es!ecially $e on our guard in using language not only $ecause the mere e1istence of a word can lead us to $elie"e that something in reality corres!onds to it, $ut also $ecause language, $eing im!recise, leads us to the false assurance that the mere ma&ing of a distinction has ca!tured the nature of the thing itself. 3acon thus identified language as the !rimary mechanism of an 5ideological effect,5 where$y a fictional $ut socially shared set of $eliefs and !re(udices is esta$lished and !ro!agated. <inally, 3acon referred to idols of the theater, roughly his e'ui"alent for !hiloso!hical systems. These idols, in contrast to the others, are not innate in the human constitution and social e1istence $ut are deli$erately circulated as total accounts of &nowledge in

the "arious intellectual and academic disci!lines and their de$ates. 9ere, 3acon was !articularly interested in the dominance that a !articular conce!tion of method can e1ercise o"er a whole field of human &nowledge, and he calls to our attention, in an almost contem!orary way, the im!ortance of ado!ting a critical !ers!ecti"e with res!ect to any allegedly e1clusi"e or !ri"ileged form of methodology. 9ow, then, are these idols to $e o"ercome> The first ste!, of course, is to $ecome and remain critically aware of their ty!es, their sources, and the sco!e of their influence. #lthough 3acon%s s&e!tical doctrine of the idols !ro"ided a $road framewor& for cultural criti'ue that has rarely $een sur!assed, li&e most Enlightenment thin&ers he was not a thoroughgoing s&e!tic $ut ultimately in"o&ed the em!irical !rocedures of the new science as a general antidote to the reign of the idols, es!ecially those drawn from anti'uity and its a!!ro!riation $y 0hristianity. 3acon%s s&e!ticism was, therefore, not an end in itself $ut only a starting !oint for a much $roader !ro(ect where$y the de"elo!ment of the sciences would come to re!lace the su!erstitions of the !ast with more accurate, scientific &nowledge. 3acon was !ro$a$ly the first modern thin&er to reali2e that &nowledge is !ower, that from scientific &nowledge followed the a$ility to control nature rather than merely ada!t !assi"ely to it. 9owe"er, he remained well within the am$it of Enlightenment thought, $oth in regarding s&e!ticism as a merely !reliminary stance and in sto!!ing short of considering what might $e the results of an a!!lication of the new science to the control of human affairs. 3acon was followed $y others in a line running from -en? .escartes 6 ;5@6 ;6507 through 4ierre 3ayle 6 ;64A ;A067 and Boltaire 6 ;6@4 ;AA87, to the logical !ositi"ists of the twentieth century. # new sort of s&e!ticism that !ointed $eyond the Enlightenment emerged in the writings of the )cottish !hiloso!her and historian .a"id 9ume 6 ;A;; ;AA67. 9ume e1!anded the s&e!tical criti'ue of the Enlightenment to include the sciences as well. #ccording to 9ume, the ultimate aim of scientific &nowledge is to disco"er necessary and inaltera$le relations of cause and effect among o$ser"ed natural 2A e"ents. 9owe"er, all our ideas, whether scientific or not, ha"e their origins in the welter of im!ressions !ro"ided us $y the senses* if we wish to determine the actual meaning of an idea, we must trace it $ac& to the im!ressions in which it originated. In the case of ideas of cause and effect, 9ume argued, try as we might, we will ne"er disco"er any discrete im!ression corres!onding to either. -ather, the idea of causality is $ased sim!ly on the !ast o$ser"ation of one ty!e of im!ression $eing followed $y another, reinforced $y the natural ha$it of e1!ecting to see the same se'uence of im!ressions re!eated in the future. :f course, as 9ume was 'uic& to !oint out, there is no guarantee that our future e1!ectations will $e fulfilled, that future im!ressions will manifest the same !atterns that !ast ones ha"e. The s&e!tical result, which directly challenged the faith in scientific reason of such enlighteners as 3acon and .escartes, was that science itself had no more right to claim the !ri"ilege of truth for its "iew of the world than did other areas of human endea"or. 9ume was well aware of the !ractical ad"antages in !recision, e1!lanation, and !rediction to which the sciences could fairly lay claim. 9owe"er, what the sciences had no ground to claim, 9ume%s criti'ue indicated, was that their theoretical descri!tions of the world amounted to any !ri"ileged or true !icture of the world as it really is. #nd if this allegedly !reeminent form of &nowledge was o!en to s&e!tical o$(ection, then any of the less rigorous forms of cultural discourse and !ractice would $e all the more o!en to 'uestion. 8i&e 3acon%s "iews, 9ume%s more radical s&e!ticism generated its own tradition, which in the twentieth century led to "iews sus!icious of e1isting cultural !ractices

$ut e'ually critical of any allegedly scientific e1!lanation of them. -e!ercussions of 9ume%s s&e!ticism can $e seen in #merican !ragmatism* in 3ritish ordinary language !hiloso!hy, which was deri"ed from the later "iews of 8udwig =ittgenstein 6 ;88@ ;@5;7* and in "arious su$se'uent criti'ues of scientific claims to !ro"ide some !ri"ileged way of descri$ing and e1!laining the world.

Moral Critique: eason and Moral Sense

# second critical strategy em!loyed in the discourse of li$eral humanism, and one that !ro"ed in the long term more characteristic of it than s&e!ticism, in"ol"ed attem!ts to esta$lish some natural $asis for indi"idual moral (udgment regarding e1isting !ractices and institutions. The ancients had tended, with #ristotle, to see indi"idual morality as an e1tension of !olitical !ractice, and the /iddle #ges had generally su$ordinated indi"idual moral (udgment to theological doctrine. )&e!tical of $oth tendencies, Enlightenment thin&ers loo&ed to the indi"idual as the only !ossi$le source from which a criti'ue of e1isting cultural !ractices might emerge. Enlightenment thin&ers relied on the natural ca!acity of the indi"idual to see through corru!t institutions and call them to account. =hereas s&e!tical strategies tended to return to 'uestions regarding the status of human &nowledge, which many $elie"ed could $e satisfactorily addressed $y the sciences, strategies of moral criti'ue were $ased on the affirmation of a ca!acity for moral (udgment 28 that must somehow reside in human nature itself. The critical discourse of li$eral humanism traded hea"ily in moral condemnations of e1isting cultural !ractices, offering se"eral (ustifications in su!!ort of such (udgments. The first (ustification, the notion of natural law, $ecame !re"alent in the se"enteenth century. It emerged in its seculari2ed form out of ancient and medie"al thought, and its earliest "ariants held that natural law was deri"ed from the will of a deity that had created $oth the natural and human orders and had endowed human $eings with reason. -eason was defined in the natural law tradition as the innate human ca!acity to disco"er the inaltera$le laws of nature and to a!!rehend and institute other laws that could $ecome e'ually $inding on human affairs. :f course, as the English !hiloso!her Cohn 8oc&e 6 ;632 ;A047 o$ser"ed toward the end of the century, this conce!tion of natural law was $eset in !ractice $y numerous 5incon"eniences,5 not the least of which was the fact that the !utati"e laws go"erning human affairs were not nearly so clearly legi$le in the nature of things as were those go"erning material nature. The legitimacy of go"ernment $ased on the consent of the go"erned, for e1am!le, was clearly not of the same order as that of the uni"ersal law of gra"itation, or it would not ha"e $een so highly contested and so rarely !racticed throughout history. /ore im!ortant to the su$se'uent fate of the natural law a!!roach, howe"er, was the emergence, also during the se"enteenth century, of a new conce!tion of reason, totally o!!osed to that of the ancient and medie"al traditions. Thomas 9o$$es 6 ;588 ;6A@7, in what is often regarded as the first treatise of modern !olitical science, Leviathan 6 ;65;7, !resented a !urely instrumental conce!tion of reason. There he argued that li&e any other science, the science of !olitics must deal, first and foremost, with $asic material forces. In the case of !olitical science, which concerned relations among human $eings, these were the elemental !assions of attraction and re!ulsion. -ather than "iewing reason as some deity conferred human faculty that directly connected human $eings with a natural law, 9o$$es asserted that reason was merely an instrument of the !assions. :ur !assions, that is, our $asic desires, esta$lished the ends to $e achie"ed $y our actions and our reason functioned merely to hel! us disco"er the most efficient means of satisfying them. -eason, howe"er, contained no

natural ends in itself, and no moral law could $e e1tracted from a ca!acity that was wholly su$ser"ient to natural !assions. =hile 9o$$es%s criti'ue of reason as a source of moral (udgment did not immediately win the day, it did force a wide ranging reconsideration of the connection $etween reason and moral (udgment. Two lines of res!onse to 9o$$es%s "iews soon arose. :ne was that of Cohn 8oc&e, who attem!ted to grant the instrumental function of reason noted $y 9o$$es without restricting its o!eration solely to this function. 8oc&e thus ho!ed to sal"age a moral dimension for reason while sto!!ing short of in"o&ing some di"inely decreed social order. #ccording to 8oc&e in his "Second Treatise on Government" 6 ;6@07, human reason cannot $e regarded merely as the sla"e of the !assions $ecause it is always ca!a$le of $alanc 2@ ing short term satisfaction against !otential long term effects. /ore s!ecifically, 5the natural light of human reason5 informs us that if in satisfying our desires we harm or "iolate the !erson or !ro!erty of other human $eings, they will $e inclined to do the same to us. Thus, human reason itself informs us of the ad"isa$ility of e1ercising self restraint in our dealings with others, on the $asis of enlightened self interest. #ccording to 8oc&e, the latter was sufficient to esta$lish minimal moral !rinci!les for human action, which he went on to em!loy as the $asis for his $roader criti'ue of !olitical and cultural institutions. # second res!onse to 9o$$es%s instrumental criti'ue of reason was de"elo!ed in the first half of the eighteenth century $y the third Earl of )haftes$ury 6 ;6A; ;A;37 and <rancis 9utcheson 6 ;6@4 ;A467. =hereas 8oc&e attem!ted to e1!and 9o$$es%s notion of instrumental reason to include rationally self interested moral constraints, these thin&ers too& the o!!osite !ath $y asserting that among our !assions 6or 5sentiments,5 as they would say7 there was one called the moral sense. 3esides the !assions of attraction and re!ulsion recogni2ed $y 9o$$es, there was innate in human nature itself an irreduci$le feeling of !leasure attached to "irtuous actions and of !ain connected with "icious ones. Indeed, they went so far as to claim that under certain conditions and than&s to their moral sense, human $eings were fully ca!a$le of recogni2ing the (ust claims of others and acting $ene"olently on their $ehalf, inde!endently of the sort of selfinterest re'uired $y 8oc&e%s "iew. Either the enlightened self interest of 8oc&e or the moral sense theory of )haftes$ury and 9utcheson could and did !ro"ide a !latform from which a moral criti'ue of cultural and !olitical institutions could $e launched. <or the former could condemn a gi"en !ractice or institution as irrational $y arguing that it "iolated certain $asic conditions of social e1istence recogni2ed $y all human $eings, while the latter could in"o&e its re!ugnance to the moral sensi$ilities of ci"ili2ed human $eings. 9owe"er, 9umean s&e!ticism mar&ed the limit of the moral strategy of li$eral humanism. In 9ume%s analysis, there was no rational connection $etween what is and what ought to $e 6as 8oc&e%s argument re'uired7, nor was there any e"idence for a se!arate faculty of moral sense that would in"aria$ly attach feelings of !leasure or !ain to s!ecific !ractices as the 5moral sense5 theorists claimed. 9owe"er, des!ite 9ume%s criti'ue of the $ases for strategies of moral criti'ue de"elo!ed during the Enlightenment, li$eral humanism has continued into our own time with at least the general con"iction that somehow the moral (udgment of indi"iduals is an im!ortant starting !oint for cultural criticism.

Libert! and Human ights

4ro$a$ly the most characteristic critical strategy de"elo!ed within the discourse of li$eral humanism was that centered on the notions of li$erty and human rights. This strategy still dominates the cultural and !olitical discourses of Euro!e and the Dnited

)tates, whose $asic !olitical !rinci!les are almost without e1ce! 30 tion stated in these terms. To $egin with, we should note that while, historically, moral criti'ue and the !resent strategy are closely intertwined and sometimes indistinguisha$le from one another 6es!ecially in a thin&er li&e 8oc&e7, as critical strategies each can $e and sometimes is em!loyed without the other. The reason for this is that while a moral criti'ue ultimately de!ends on certain con"ictions of the indi"idual that can $e asserted e"en if not widely shared $y others, in"o&ing the language of li$erty and rights !resu!!oses, to $e effecti"e, a more generally shared set of attitudes regarding general social constraints and !olitical aims. That is, moral strategies tend to assert !rinci!les that should $e o!erati"e $ut in fact are not, while strategies in"o&ing rights 6or allegations of the "iolation of li$erty7 !resu!!ose certain acce!ted o!erati"e !rinci!les that are claimed to ha"e failed in a gi"en instance. In the discourse of li$eral humanism, the terms right and liberty are somewhat am$iguous. To understand why, we must consider the !atterns of argument within which they were de"elo!ed. In the $roadest sense, there were two distinguisha$le, although often interacting, conte1ts in which they were !resented. The first, which we ha"e already met, might $e called the naturalist, or essentialist, theory. In this "iew, the "ery nature, essence, or definition of human $eings includes the ca!acity to e1!ress themsel"es in their own freely chosen actions. Liberty thus can $e defined as 9o$$es defined it, as the freedom from e1ternal constraint on indi"idual choice and action. Rights then will $e those natural dimensions of human e1!ression and !ractice that are "iolated whene"er e1ternal constraint is illegitimately $rought to $ear on the indi"idual. In an essentialist "iew of human nature, the !ro$lem turns on determining which actions can $e legitimately constrained and $y whom, and who is to decide what is a legitimate constraint and what is not. The other "iew is sometimes called the contractarian . )uch a "iew, !ro$a$ly the dominant one in the Enlightenment, holds that, while the human $eing !ossesses no rights $y nature, rights are $rought into $eing $y a free agreement where$y each indi"idual !romises to ac&nowledge certain rights of others if those others will reci!rocally ac&nowledge the same rights in her or his own case. The crucial difference $etween the essentialist and the contractarian "iews of rights is that in the former, li$erty and rights are defined as natural and essential attri$utes of human $eings, while in the latter, they are neither natural nor essential $ut are founded on some !rior agreement that !resuma$ly can $e rescinded $y the mutual consent of $oth !arties. 3eyond the !hiloso!hical !ro$lem of ade'uately defining the nature of human $eings, there were strong historical reasons why the founders of li$eral humanism tended to !refer the contractarian "iew of rights and li$erty. -e(ecting any notion of a !articular !olitical configuration, es!ecially the di"ine right of &ings, as !art of the natural order, they wanted to insist that the !olitical so"ereign was, in effect, a !roduct of human artifice and that it could $e legitimated only if "iewed as called into e1istence $y the mutual agreement of those who were go"erned. :nce the state was created, they tended to thin& of it as a !arty to the agreement and 3; wanted to $e a$le to hold it to terms agreed on $etween itself and its citi2enshi!. 3ased on this !atent fiction, such thin&ers as 8oc&e wished to claim a 5right of re$ellion,5 where$y the go"erned could legitimately a$sol"e themsel"es of their duties toward the state in cases where the state "iolated the original terms of the contract that had called it into $eing. Ingenious as this was as a critical strategy, the o!!osition $etween the essentialist and the contractarian "iews of rights and li$erty o!ened a rift in the heart of li$eral humanism that has yet to $e fully mended, if such is e"en !ossi$le. It is !articularly im!ortant to understand these !ro$lems $ecause li$eral humanism ultimately $ecame

the dominant form of Euro!ean and #merican critical discourse, and the recognition of its shortcomings and inconsistencies e"entually led to the de"elo!ment of alternati"e critical discourses. Three areas of difficulty, which can $e stated in the form of dilemmas, ha"e often $een cited as es!ecially !ro$lematic. <irst, although the essentialist and the contractarian a!!roaches to rights and li$erty ma&e assum!tions that are logically o!!osed to one another, it seems that li$eral humanism can eliminate neither set of assum!tions in fa"or of the other. :n the one hand, most Enlightenment thin&ers were firmly and genuinely committed to a uni"ersalist notion of rights and li$erty as e1tending to all humans, sim!ly $y "irtue of their $eing sentient, rational $eings. The most immediate and forceful way of asserting this commitment was $y attri$uting such features to the essence or definition of what it means to $e human. In this sense, ha"ing rights or e1ercising freedom re'uired no !rior agreement. :n the other hand, as critics of contem!orary culture, they were e'ually concerned to de"elo! a strategy $y which the aura of legitimacy could $e stri!!ed from the e1isting institutions under which they li"ed and $y which their own right to re$el against those institutions could $e "indicated. This fa"ored a critical discourse $ased on the fiction of a contract that when "iolated $y one !arty would (ustify the other in reneging on it as well. The !ro$lem was that this de"ice made rights and li$erty creatures of an agreement to which some !ersons were !arties while others were e1cluded. The issue of the status of sla"es under the D.). 0onstitution was one of the most "i"id historical e1am!les of this dilemma. /uch later, in the twentieth century, this !ro$lem was reformulated in terms of human and ci"il rights, $ut the conflicting claims !osed e"en $y this reformulation were $y no means resol"ed, any more than were an essentialist as o!!osed to a contractarian or nonessentialist notion of rights, li$erty, and human nature. )econd, the conce!t of li$erty in !articular $ecame e"en more !ro$lematic if one attended carefully to the contractarian argument. <or while the essentialist "iew sim!ly !osited freedom or li$erty as a natural feature of human $eings without further argument, the contractarian a!!roach im!lied a contrast $etween a 5natural5 freedom sufficient at least to !ermit deli$erate entry into an agreement and an 5artificial5 li$erty that resulted from the agreement. #s Cean Cac'ues -ousseau 6 ;A;2 ;AA87 clearly saw, the !rice demanded $y deciding against the ,- 5natural freedom5 outside the $ounds of social constraint and in fa"or of the 5artificial li$erty5 $ased on contractual ci"il society might well $e regarded $y many as too high. =hile attem!ting to (ustify li"ing under laws democratically agreed on and enforced $y a 5general will,5 -ousseau himself remained am$i"alent a$out whether the li$erty of the citi2en or the freedom of the natural and non!olitical indi"idual was !refera$le. 4erha!s the most elo'uent ad"ocate for su$ordinating oneself to collecti"ely determined law was also one of the most forceful s!o&es!ersons for the natural freedom of a !resocial condition. #gain, this issue continues today in any conflict where the natural freedom of an indi"idual%s conscientious resistance to laws !ercei"ed as un(ust is !itted against the artificial li$erty made !ossi$le $y an e1isting legal system. Third, the status of rights has remained !ro$lematic throughout the discourse of li$eral humanism. The !ro$lem is that the term right often functions in a !urely a$stract manner. In this discourse, one can $e said to !ossess a right e"en though the actual conditions $y which one could actually e1ercise the right are a$sent. <or e1am!le, a !erson can $e regarded as ha"ing a right to e'ual em!loyment without !ossessing the training or 'ualifications necessary to enter the wor&force. The difficulty lies in the fact that in the discourse of li$eral humanism, rights tend to $e

treated as !otentialities that an indi"idual need not, $ut in many cases cannot, reali2e in actuality. 8i$eral humanism has $een di"ided throughout its history on the issue of whether the legal or moral recognition of certain rights entails as well the creation of the actual conditions under which, in a gi"en case, they could in fact $e e1ercised. This am$iguity in the conce!t of rights, as well as the tendency to ar$itrarily restrict their e1!ression in the !olitical s!here $y such notions as suffrage, made !ossi$le a new le"el of criti'ue, well illustrated in such writings as A Vindication of the Rights of oman 6 ;A@27 $y /ary =ollstonecraft 6 ;A5@ ;A@A7. 4ro$a$ly the first, and still one of the most influential articulations of what would later $e called feminist criti'ue, =ollstonecraft%s Bindication !owerfully argued that any consistent notion of rights or li$erty must a!!ly e'ually to women and men an idea that was a$sent from the discussion among such thin&ers as 8oc&e and -ousseau.

Historical Critique
#lthough its heyday was the nineteenth century, historical criti'ue first a!!eared as a distincti"e critical strategy during the Enlightenment, when it was decidedly less !rominent than the s&e!tical, moral, or rights $ased styles of criti'ue. The hesitation of many Enlightenment thin&ers in em$racing historical criti'ue !ro$a$ly stemmed from the fact that 0hristianity was $ased on a com!rehensi"e inter!retation of history as a wor& of di"ine grace, thus tainting the historical a!!roach to cultural criticism. #nother factor contri$uting to their hesitation was that such early a!ologists for the natural sciences as ,alileo, 3acon, and .escartes often contrasted the methods and results of the new science with the su!ersti 33 tions, inaccuracies, and falsehoods !ro!agated $y historians. <inally, as yet relati"ely little historical documentation was readily a"aila$le, a!art from religious te1ts and their $iased inter!retations. E"en so, historiogra!hy did ma&e nota$le ad"ances during the Enlightenment, es!ecially in such wor&s as 9ume multi"olume !istory of "ngland 6 ;A52 ;A627 and Edward ,i$$on The #ecline and $all of the Roman "mpire 6 ;AA6 ;A887.

.iambattista /ico
=hile historians li&e 9ume and ,i$$on were admitted s&e!tics and generally em!loyed the writing of history as another "ehicle to e1tend their s&e!tical style of criti'ue, the Italian !hiloso!her and social theorist ,iam$attista Bico 6 ;668 ;A447 de"elo!ed a distincti"ely modern theory concerning the writing of EE history, the general !rinci!les go"erning history, and its status as a disci!line. In so doing, Bico laid the foundations of a new critical strategy, which 9egel and /ar1 would use later in de"elo!ing a new form of critical discourse. Bico entitled his ma(or historical wor& The Ne% Science, the first edition of which was !u$lished in ;A25, followed $y a second in ;A30 and a third underway at his death in ;A44. 9is choice of title was a calculated !olemical reference to the other 5new science5 of his day, that de"elo!ed $y such !ro!onents of the natural sciences as ,alileo and .escartes, with whose wor&s Bico was well ac'uainted. #mid the e1citement surrounding the a!!lication of mathematics to unloc& the secrets of nature, Bico asserted a !rinci!le that not only im!lied an inter!retation of the natural sciences radically different from ,alileo%s and .escartes%s $ut that also esta$lished the !ossi$ility of a science of human affairs, $ased on history, that could $e ran&ed alongside the natural sciences in its !otential for increasing the stoc& of human &nowledge. This !rinci!le was summed u! in the 8atin !hrase verum ipsum factum+ =hat is true 6verum7 is the same 6ipsum7 as what is created 6factum7. <or the science of nature, this !rinci!le im!lied that scientists were not, as they themsel"es tended to thin&, actually disco"ering the eternal mathematical laws of

nature $ut rather de"elo!ing mathematical constructs 6or as we might say today, models7 $y which nature could $e understood. #s the ,erman !hiloso!her Immanuel Fant would claim more than a century later, natural scientists could ne"er &now nature as it was in itself $ecause they had not created it. -ather, what we are a$le to &now of nature is what we ha"e constructed for oursel"es and, as it were, 5read $ac& into it+5 #lthough Bico%s reinter!retation of natural science did not e"idence the s&e!ticism of 9ume, it did wor& to constrain the claims made in $ehalf of a scientific "iew of the world. It also im!lied that the theories and acti"ities of natural scientists might $e su$(ected to historical criti'ue, since their constructs of nature were not eternal $ut had gradually e"ol"ed. <or Bico, howe"er, the main force of his !rinci!le was to affirm that since history is the account of human !ractical acti"ity, that is, since history is !reeminently created $y human $eings, then we are, in a sense, ca!a$le of understanding 34 historical !henomena e"en $etter than we understand natural ones. =hile the hidden s!rings of nature will always continue to elude us $ecause nature was made $y ,od, the underlying !rinci!les of human history can $e $rought to light $ecause they result solely from the !roducti"e acti"ities of human $eings. 9owe"er, Bico was decidedly antiessentialist in his a!!roach to history. 9e firmly re(ected any ahistorical "iew of a fi1ed human nature that might lead us to imagine, as he thought someone li&e 9o$$es mista&enly did, that human $eings in !ast ages thought or acted (ust as we do, or were moti"ated $y the same forces as we are. -ather than understanding !ast ages in terms of our !resent outloo&, "alues, and cultural !ractices, Bico insisted, we should understand our own condition as the outcome of a !rocess of de"elo!ment that !receded us. Geither moral con"iction nor a modern doctrine of rights and li$erty $ut only a scientific gras! of our current cultural state as emergent from its historical !ast could !ro"ide a $asis for critical discourse. The word culture does not a!!ear as a central term in Bico%s te1ts* $ut it is nonetheless a$undantly clear that Bico $elie"ed the !rinci!al focus of history should not $e on mere e"ents and their chronology $ut on language, myths, and other forms $y means of which !ast tradition is communicated to the !resent. This idea was without !recedent in Bico%s day. 4refiguring the ne1t ma(or critical discourse to emerge, Bico saw the main tas& of the historian as one of interpretation of !ast cultural forms rather than mere com!ilation of historical 5facts.5 <urthermore, he em!hasi2ed that what we might at !resent regard as fa$les, myths, or meta!hors were, for earlier !eriods, the "ery "ehicles $y which a !re"ious culture constructed and made sense of its world. #s historians, we should resist the tendency to reduce earlier cultural !roducts to our own conce!tual terms* rather, we should stri"e to understand how they formed a distincti"e, organically connected, and wholly "ia$le world"iew. 4articularly im!ortant for some later critical discourses are two features of Bico%s theory of the general !rinci!les underlying historical de"elo!ment. <irst, Bico saw "arious ty!es of economic and !olitical organi2ation as intimately connected with other cultural forms such as art, literature, rhetoric, law, and !hiloso!hy. Indeed, a good !art of Bico Ne% Science is de"oted to demonstrating how the "arious as!ects of culture fit together and mutually reinforce one another in s!ecific social and economic conditions at a gi"en !oint of historical de"elo!ment. #ntici!ating /ar1 $y some two centuries, Bico e"en suggested that class conflict was an essential factor in large scale economic and cultural transformations. )econd, Bico $elie"ed that !articular human societies !ass through a !redicta$le se'uence of stages, dri"en $y social reconfigurations resulting from distur$ances in &inshi! and economic relations. =hile Bico sto!!ed short of !resenting a uni"ersal history in which the !resent age could $e

inserted and its fate !redicted, and contented himself with tracing the cycles of history within !articular societies, one might easily infer that he regarded his contem!orary culture as already ha"ing entered the final stage of a 5$ar$arism of reflection5 and

35class conflict that would ultimately lead to its colla!se and to the $eginning of a
new cycle. =hile many features of Bico%s thought a$out culture were generally consistent with and e"entually came to influence the discourse of li$eral humanism, !articularly through the historical writings of Cohann ,ottfried 9erder 6 ;A44 ;8037, his im!licit !essimism a$out current conditions, $ased on his cyclical "iew of history, seems more characteristic of the nineteenth than of the se"enteenth century. Gonetheless, Bico must $e credited with de"elo!ing yet another critical strategy that, with re"ision, came to $e widely em!loyed within the discourse of li$eral humanism.

The Marquis de Condorcet

# "iew of historical criti'ue much more consistent with the mainline assum!tions of li$eral humanism was de"elo!ed $y the /ar'uis de 0ondorcet 6 ;A43 ;A@47. 8i&e Bico, 0ondorcet re(ected the idea that the study of human culture and history should $e seen as less !recise, relia$le, or im!ortant than the in"estigation of nature. 9owe"er, unli&e Bico he $elie"ed that in a suita$ly de"elo!ed form, the mathematical methods em!loyed $y the natural sciences could $e e'ually well a!!lied to the study of human social and historical !henomena. In his !ioneering wor& on the mathematical theory of !ro$a$ility, still the $asis for much research in the modern social sciences, 0ondorcet $rought the Enlightenment%s general enthusiasm for and confidence in the methods of the natural sciences together with its concern for effecting concrete change in e1isting social conditions. #ccording to 0ondorcet, the mathematical theory of !ro$a$ility not only hel!s clarify issues in"ol"ed in the dynamics of collecti"e decisionma&ing, thus !ro"iding a scientific $asis for the emerging notion of !rocedural democracy, $ut it also could hel! guide indi"idual and collecti"e decision ma&ing !rocesses $y !ermitting the outcomes of "arious com!eting !olicies to $e 'uantitati"ely s!ecified and accurately e"aluated. Thus, 0ondorcet%s theory of !ro$a$ility laid the foundations for a new line of criti'ue that would lin& the mathematically !recise methods of the sciences directly to the solution of concrete human !ro$lems. #t least in !rinci!le, the inherent !ro$lems of moral and rights $ased criti'ues could finally $e resol"ed through a 'uantitati"e analysis and com!arison of the effects of human choice among "arious alternati"es. In s!irit if not in detail, such an a!!roach lay at the $asis of what was to $ecome one of the dominant social theories of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, a "iew associated with Ceremy 3entham 6 ;A48 ;8327 and Cohn )tuart /ill 6 ;806 ;8A37. This theory, called utilitarianism, held that in any gi"en case, the morally $est action or !olicy was the one that would !roduce 5the greatest good for the greatest num$er.5 Dtilitarianism, or some "ariant thereof, remains the $asis for most contem!orary social !lanning. It has often $een used $y historians as well to e"aluate the effecti"eness of !ast decisions or !olicies. E"en more directly rele"ant to the li$eral humanist tradition was 0ondorcet%s theory of historical !rogress. In his S&etch for a !istorical 'icture of the 'rogress ofthe !uman (ind 36 the 9uman /ind 6 ;A@47, 0ondorcet offered a $road reading of history that aimed to finally "indicate all the other critical attitudes and strategies of li$eral humanism. 9is S&etch was $ased on two assum!tions. <irst, 0ondorcet $elie"ed, as would many theorists who came after him, that the structure of indi"idual de"elo!ment closely !aralleled that of cultural or historical de"elo!ment. The indi"idual $egan life in a state totally de!endent on its en"ironment and !ro"ided with

nothing $ut a welter of seemingly random sensations. ,radually, howe"er, one achie"ed mastery of one%s surroundings $y forming ideas, connecting them into larger $odies of &nowledge, and a!!lying the &nowledge gained to harnessing forces formerly $eyond its control. 8i&ewise, the human race $egan in a sort of !rimiti"e chaos $ut $ecame !rogressi"ely more organi2ed, de"elo!ing !olitical institutions, technologies, and cultural formations, and finally reaching a !oint where it was a$le to control nature and direct it toward human ends. The second assum!tion was that this o"erall tra(ectory of !rogress was not wholly seamless and continuous $ut must !ass through "arious stages, each of which !osed distincti"e o$stacles to de"elo!ment that had to $e o"ercome $efore the ne1t stage could $e entered. 0ondorcet di"ided human history into ten such stages. Got sur!risingly, some of the ma(or o$stacles to $e o"ercome were such traditional enemies of li$eral humanism as ignorance, su!erstition, dogmatic religion, and !olitical tyranny. 0ondorcet regarded himself as li"ing at the !oint of transition from the ninth to the tenth and final stage of human history. )ignificantly, he regarded the ninth e!och as $eginning with .escartes%s #iscourse on (ethod and ending with the fall of the 3astille in ;A8@. Its tas& had $een to a$olish the o$stacles to human !rogress !osed, on the one hand, $y the !olitical tyranny of a$solute monarchy and, on the other, $y the continued intellectual reliance on e1ternal authority rather than on human&ind%s own rational ca!acities, which were manifested in the highest sense in the new sciences. This accom!lished, 0ondorcet o!timistically $elie"ed that there was no further limit to the degree to which the human race could !erfect itself in the tenth and final !hase of history. .emocratic institutions !romoting scientific and technological ad"ance and e1!anding this enlightened culture through uni"ersal education would ultimately lead and soon, he $elie"ed to the final eradication of all the traditional sources of human misery+ !o"erty, war, disease, $igotry, and so on. <urthermore, he saw no natural limits to such !rogress and he $elie"ed that cultural ad"ances would go hand in hand with the increasing moral !erfection of human nature. #s a critical strategy, 0ondorcet%s account of history as a gradual e"olution from de!endence, ignorance, and su!erstition to !ower, &nowledge, and enlightenment !ro"ided him with a $road $asis on which to identify certain cultural institutions as counter !rogressi"e remnants of !ast e!ochs and to call for their remo"al as o$stacles to the course of human !rogress that all history affirms. In 0ondorcet more than in any other Enlightenment thin&er, li$eral humanism assumed a form intimately lin&ed to the notion of moderni2ation, the !rocess $y which scientific and technological de"elo!ment $rings a$out cultural transfor 3A mations in which traditional !ractices and institutions are eliminated and continually re!laced $y new cultural configurations. #lthough 0ondorcet regarded moderni2ation as $oth historically ine"ita$le and morally desira$le, his assessment was not shared $y all Enlightenment thin&ers or $y all later re!resentati"es of the li$eral humanist tradition. -ousseau, always regarded $y 0ondorcet as a !rinci!al antagonist, had already !resented a scathing criti'ue of moderni2ation in his #iscourse on the Sciences and Arts 6 ;A507, where he argued e1actly the o!!osite !oint, that historical !rogress in these areas entailed a gradual corru!tion of human nature from its originally free and healthy state. In his famous !hrase, the modern sciences and arts 5s!read garlands of flowers o"er the iron chains with which men are $urdened, stifle in them the sense of that original li$erty for which they seem to ha"e $een $orn, ma&e them lo"e their sla"ery, and turn them into what is called ci"ili2ed !eo!les.5 :f course, -ousseau himself could ne"er $e

regarded as a s!o&es!erson for the li$eral humanist !osition, $ut his reser"ations concerning moderni2ation did stri&e an e"er more res!onsi"e chord in the later de"elo!ment of this mo"ement. Indeed, as we will see, the difficulties that later li$eral humanism e1!erienced in attem!ting to reconcile its modern !olitical li$eralism with a more traditionalist idea of humanist culture !layed an im!ortant role in the emergence of later critical discourses.

"ant#s S!stematic Critical ationalism

estatement: Liberal Humanism as

=e ha"e seen that, as the Enlightenment unfolded, se"eral 'uite different critical strategies a!!eared. 8i$eral humanism thus assumed a num$er of different inflections, not always entirely harmonious with one another. 9owe"er, most mainstream Enlightenment figures were sus!icious of too much logical su$tlety or o"erly !anoramic meta!hysical "isions, since these smac&ed of the sort of medie"al scholasticism to which they were ideologically o!!osed. #s a result, their li$eral humanist con"ictions tended to o!erate as a sort of $roadly assumed intellectual conte1t within which more s!ecific !oints could $e de$ated and $attles with the common enemy (oined. #s a result, there were few general or com!rehensi"e attem!ts to s!ell out in detail what the o"erall !osition in"ol"ed, thus allowing considera$le latitude for "iews that would ha"e a!!eared flatly contradictory if they had $een clearly articulated. 9ume $egan to !ro$e this soft under$elly of the li$eral humanist stance, $ut his s&e!ticism was so radical that it threatened to undermine the whole Enlightenment !ro(ect. )till, 9umean s&e!ticism succeeded in forcing the issue, and ,erman !hiloso!her Immanuel Fant 6 ;A24 ;8047 was there$y mo"ed to underta&e the difficult tas& of systematically reconstructing the !osition of li$eral humanism in his 0ritical 4hiloso!hy. It is im!ortant to understand at least the general contours of Fant%s !hiloso!hy, not only $ecause it is the most com!rehensi"e and e1!licit 38 statement of li$eral humanism, $ut $ecause it came to ser"e as a historical reference !oint for the su$se'uent de"elo!ment of li$eral humanism as well as for most other later critical discourses. In !articular, it was in Fant )ritical 'hilosophy that li$eral humanism%s "arious conce!ts and strategies were $rought together and gi"en a !ro!er !lace within a more com!rehensi"e and clearly articulated critical !ro(ect. #s we ha"e seen, the entire !ro(ect of the Enlightenment was thoroughly critical in its attitudes toward the 5$ar$arian5 culture inherited from the !remodern !eriod. Through "arious critical strategies, it tended to !it its 5ci"ili2ing5 influences and con"ictions against !re"ailing cultural !ractices $ased on a general and mostly un'uestioned faith in human reason. 9owe"er, it was not until 9ume that a serious criti'ue was aimed at the notion of reason itself. 4rior to that, reason had assumed a num$er of 'uite different and often inconsistent guises+ a source of innate mathematical ideas in .escartes, an instrument of the !assions in 9o$$es, a 5natural light5 dictating $asic moral constraints in 8oc&e, and so forth. #gainst all of these, the radical u!shot of 9ume%s s&e!ticism was that reason, howe"er dec&ed out, could !ro"ide no relia$le $asis for either human &nowledge or !ractical action. Fant $elie"ed that it was at this fundamental le"el that the issue must $e (oined if the Enlightenment !ro(ect was to $e sal"aged. <or Fant, this in"ol"ed nothing less than radicali2ing the dis!arate critical tendencies of the Enlightenment into a com!rehensi"e criti'ue of !ure reason, which was in fact the title of his first ma(or critical wor& 6 ;A8;, ;st ed.* ;A8A, 2d ed.7. Fant $elie"ed that if reason were to $e "indicated against s&e!tical attac&s such as those launched $y 9ume, there was no

alternati"e $ut to loo& to reason itself to !ro"ide the res!onse. Thus, as he e1!lained it, the criti'ue of !ure reason was not only a criti'ue directed at reason $ut one carried out $y reason. In other words, for Fant the root of all criti'ue was ultimately self* criti+ue. #ny criti'ue of other "iews, !ractices, or institutions could $e effecti"e only if one%s own entitlement to a critical stance could $e legitimated in the first !lace* and this result was !recisely that sought $y Fant in his )riti+ue of 'ure Reason. Fant $egan $y distinguishing three senses in which the term reason a!!eared in the critical discourse of the Enlightenment. <irst, in the $roadest sense, which em$raced all the others, reason was nothing $ut the ca!acity to thin& in an orderly and consistent manner. The !rinci!les go"erning this had $een well &nown since the time of #ristotle+ They were sim!ly the $asic laws of logic, which if "iolated, resulted in fallacy, confusion, and ultimately a$surdity. This ca!acity Fant called !ure reason, since it was com!letely formal, lac&ing any s!ecific content of its own $ut uni"ersally a!!lica$le to any and all content. The second sense of reason was that in"ol"ed with the !roduction of &nowledge and manifested, in its highest instance, in the natural sciences. This Fant called theoretical reason. =hile the theoretical reason em!loyed $y the sciences and other disci!lines must o$ey the logical laws inherent in !ure reason, as any meaningful discourse must, it also re 3@ 'uired a s!ecific content, which was deri"ed from the sensory o$ser"ation of nature. <inally, a third sense of reason as em!loyed in the Enlightenment concerned human action and the moral !rinci!les that ought to go"ern it. Fant called this !ractical reason. 8i&e theoretical reason, !ractical reason was also go"erned $y the laws of logic, and it too re'uired a !articular content. 3ut where the content of theoretical reason was su!!lied $y our sensory awareness of nature, that of !ractical reason in"ol"ed certain morally rele"ant features of human nature. This threefold distinction, then, !ro"ided the conce!tual matri1 within which Fant%s critical !ro(ect was de"elo!ed. The first ste! in Fant%s critical reconstruction of li$eral humanism was to clearly demarcate what human $eings merely thin& from what they can legitimately claim to &now. It was here that Fant sought to gi"e the s&e!tical strategy its due while sto!!ing short of 9ume%s challenge to the natural sciences themsel"es. Through a com!licated series of arguments, Fant concluded that whereas !ure reason could generate any ideas whatsoe"er as long as they did not "iolate the $asic laws of logic, theoretical reason, and therefore human &nowledge, was strictly limited to those s!atial and tem!oral o$(ects which can $e o$ser"ed and causally lin&ed through the mathematical laws of the sciences. <urther, agreeing with Bico, Fant held that mathematics was !recisely that construct of the human mind that !ermitted the accurate descri!tion of natural !henomena. Thus, 3acon, 9ume, and other s&e!tics had e"ery right to challenge ideas of !ure reason su!erstitions, religious dogma, the nai"e "iews of anti'uity, e"en e1tra"agant meta!hysical claims for which no concrete e1!erience !ro"ided solid e"idence. Gonetheless, the natural sciences, $ecause they were rooted in the !roducti"e a$ilities of the human mind, could always $e relied on to yield relia$le and coherent &nowledge of nature, so long as they remained within the limits of what could $e o$ser"ed in s!ace and time. Fant%s criti'ue of !ure reason, that is, of the human a$ility to thin& anything that is not self contradictory, clearly distinguished !ure reason from theoretical reason, which !ro"ides humans with the a$ility to &no% whate"er is $ased on em!irical e"idence. Thus, Fant%s criti'ue "alidated the methods of the natural sciences. It also had another im!ortant result+ It im!lied that while !ure reason can !ose 'uestions to us for which we will ne"er $e in a !osition to &now the answers 'uestions a$out whether ,od e1ists, whether human $eings ha"e immortal souls, whether human action is free or

determined, li&e the rest of nature, $y mathematical laws theoretical reason has nothing to contri$ute to the resolution of such issues. The theoretical reason of the sciences, limited as it is to o$ser"ations of s!atial and tem!oral o$(ects, can ne"er assist us in either !ro"ing or dis!ro"ing what lies in the realm of the su!ernatural. Thus, there is nothing to !re"ent us from believing that ,od e1ists, that we ha"e immortal souls, and that we are $y nature free, e"en if we cannot !ro"e it. In other words, Fant%s criti'ue lea"es room for 5rational faith,5 e"en as it certifies natural science when limited to its !ro!er s!here. 40 This last consideration led naturally to Fant )riti+ue of 'ractical Reason 6 ;A887. In this wor& Fant !ro"ides a $asis for the moral and rights $ased strategies mentioned earlier in this cha!ter. #ccording to Fant, $oth of these strategies ine"ita$ly !resu!!ose that human $eings are free to choose among alternati"es and to act on their choices. To morally (udge a human action or cultural !ractice assumes that the action or !ractice could $e otherwise and thus that it ma&es sense to hold a !erson or society res!onsi$le for what it does something we would ne"er do in the case of a roc&, a tree, a ta$le, or an animal. #nd to criti'ue an institution im!lies that it is !ossi$le for our criti'ue to ha"e some effect on it* for if it were otherwise, there would $e no !ossi$le moti"ation for critici2ing the institution. Gow, we cannot !ro"e and hence cannot finally &now that we are free so long as we regard oursel"es as !urely natural $eings, as !hysical o$(ects in s!ace and time. 3ut while this is one way in which we can "iew oursel"es and other human $eings, it is $y no means the only one. Fant%s humanism is most e"ident at this !oint, for he asserts that we all !ossess a distinctly free and moral nature that transcends anything we can o$ser"e a$out one another as merely !hysical organisms. 6<or this reason and others, Fant%s !hiloso!hy is sometimes referred to as transcendentalism.7 Biewed from the !ers!ecti"e of theoretical reason, we are all natural $eings that, li&e any other natural !henomenon, can $e the o$(ects of study $y the sciences* $ut "iewed from the !ers!ecti"e of !ractical reason, we are also free, moral $eings, and to this moral "iew of human nature the sciences can offer no challenge. Fant, howe"er, insists that this moral "iew of human nature is not (ust a matter of feeling or sentiment. -ather, !ractical reason is as much an a!!lication of !ure reason as is the theoretical reason em!loyed $y the sciences. Thus, the moral "iew of human nature has its own laws and human freedom its own rational !rinci!le. Fant calls this ultimate !rinci!le the categorical im!erati"e, a command 6im!erati"e7 that our reason issues to us as moral $eings without e1ce!tion 6categorically7. /uch li&e the 0hristian golden rule, it states, 5#ct only on that !rinci!le which you could also will to $e a !rinci!le for all rational 6human7 $eings.5 In other words, moral action in"ol"es the recognition that I cannot consistently re'uire of another what I would $e unwilling to re'uire of myself* li&ewise, I cannot morally do to another what I would $e unwilling to allow the other to do to me. 9ere, then, is the rational $asis for li$eral humanism%s moral strategy+ #ny cultural !ractice or institution that in"ol"es the mani!ulation, degradation, or e1!loitation of another human $eing is one to which neither I nor any other rational $eing can reasona$ly consent. )uch a !ractice or institution is wrong, not $ecause it "iolates the terms of a contract or $ecause some moral sentiment ma&es it seem !ainful to me, $ut $ecause I would $e irrational and thus fundamentally inhuman if I were to countenance such a thing in the case of others while re(ecting it in my own case. The same (udgment, of course, could also $e a!!lied to others who would e1ce!t themsel"es from !ractices or institutions that they would nonetheless !ermit in the case of indi"iduals other than themsel"es. 4; <rom here it is easy to see how Fant de"elo!ed his rights $ased strategy. <or Fant, rights are sim!ly the !olitical

e1!ression of the moral constraints (ust outlined. =hen we say that human $eings ha"e rights, we are not referring to some contingent, natural human feature li&e eyes or ears $ut to the transcendent 'uality of $eing free and rational agents, ca!a$le of recogni2ing moral !rinci!les and acting on them. To claim that a cultural !ractice or !olitical institution "iolates a !erson%s rights is not (ust to assert that it has transgressed the terms of some !rior agreement or that it merely acted ar$itrarily, $ut that it has "iolated the moral dimension of human nature itself. #nd since this transcendent moral dimension of human nature necessarily !resu!!oses the freedom to e1!ress itself in action, then any s!ecific infringement of a right must $e understood as a !articular instance of a "iolation of human freedom itself. Thus, Fant%s humanism necessarily im!lies a li$eral stance in relation to !olitical institutions. :f all the thin&ers in the secular tradition of li$eral humanism, Fant offers the strongest (ustification for conscientious o$(ection to !olicies and actions of authority that are in "iolation of human rights. =hile the historical strategy of criti'ue was not one that Fant regarded as central to his !hiloso!hical argument 6nor has it $een for most li$eral humanists7, he did offer a s&etch of what it would in"ol"e in his remar&a$le essay, ",dea for a -niversal !istory %ith )osmopolitan ,ntent" 6 ;A847. #do!ting a $road, syno!tic !ers!ecti"e, Fant considers history in this essay as the site of interaction $etween the natural order dealt with $y theoretical reason and the moral order of !ractical reason. The 'uestions he !oses are whether the historical de"elo!ment of the human s!ecies can $e legitimately regarded as tending toward a natural end, and if so, what that end might $e. #s we ha"e already seen, it is central to Fant%s "iew that any discussion of natural ends must include human nature as a !art of it, and that human nature im!lies the e1!ression of reason in the form of free moral acti"ity. This $eing the case, history must $e "iewed as the gradual unfolding of conditions under which human freedom can $e reali2ed within the constraints !laced on it $y !hysical nature. #ccording to Fant, 5HtIhe latest !ro$lem for man&ind, the solution of which nature forces him to see&, is the achie"ement of a ci"il society which administers law generally.5 In other words, Fant saw the ma(or accom!lishment of the Enlightenment as the emergence of states $ased on reasonable and consistently applied la%s that were designed to esta$lish and !romote the free acti"ity of their citi2ens. 9owe"er, $eyond this Fant notes that the internal freedom esta$lished $y indi"idual states will not $e secure so long as they remain in constant antagonism and warfare with one another. Thus, Fant argues for the necessity of an international or cosmo!olitan order, where$y states would come to res!ect and act toward one another according to the same rational !rinci!les $y which indi"idual moral action ought to $e go"erned. Thus, Fant%s historical strategy !ro"ided a $asis for !olitical criti'ue where$y institutions could $e (udged $y the degrees to which they ha"e instituted internal rule $y law and are !ursuing sta$le and !eaceful relations among themsel"es. 42 =e can conclude this discussion of Fant%s syno!tic reconstruction of li$eral humanism $y noting the meaning and significance he assigned to culture in his essay 5Idea for a Dni"ersal 9istory with 0osmo!olitan Intent.5 There, Fant wrote+ 5H0Iulture actually consists in the social "alue of man. #ll man%s talents are gradually unfolded, taste is de"elo!ed. Through continuous enlightenment the $asis is laid for a frame of mind which, in the course of time, transforms the raw natural faculty of moral discrimination into definite !ractical !rinci!les.5 Three as!ects of Fant%s "iew of culture should $e es!ecially &e!t in mind as we follow the further de"elo!ment of li$eral humanism. <irst, Fant used the term

culture as a "irtual synonym of civili.ation, the e1!ression of 5the social "alue of man,5 and "iewed it, li&e his Enlightenment !redecessors, as the o"ercoming of $ar$arism. )econd, culture for Fant was intrinsically moral in its im!ort. Its !rinci!al function was to heighten consciousness to the !oint of esta$lishing 5definite !ractical !rinci!les.5 <inally, Fant regarded the role of culture as central for !romoting the formation of indi"idual tastes and the unfolding of indi"idual talents and a$ilities. #s we will soon see, from the !oint of "iew of critical discourse, serious !ro$lems arise when culture is "iewed in this way.

$ost%&nlightenment Liberal Humanism: Matthe' (rnold#s )Culture of Criticism) and *ts Successors
I suggested at the $eginning of this cha!ter that the Enlightenment was dri"en $y a modern secular s!irit of criticism directed against the authority of church, state, and anti'uity and aimed at effecting significant change in e1isting !ractices and institutions. =hile it would $e inaccurate to regard Enlightenment !hiloso!hers as re"olutionaries in the same sense in which we use the term today, it is nonetheless true that o"er a !eriod of a$out 200 years, their critical efforts did contri$ute to fundamental social and cultural changes. #s e1am!les one can cite the de"elo!ment of the enlightened monarchy in <rederic& the ,reat%s 4russia, the founding of the Dnited )tates, the <rench -e"olution, and the series of 3ritish reforms $egun in the last decade of the eighteenth century. In "iewing li$eral humanism as a critical discourse from our !resent !ers!ecti"e, it is easy to forget that during most of that 200 year !eriod, the ad"ocates of Enlightenment were a distinct minority. /any among them, such as ,alileo, .escartes, Boltaire, and e"en Fant, were acti"ely su!!ressed or !ersecuted $y the authorities. 9owe"er, $y the $eginning of the nineteenth century, if li$eral humanism had not entirely trium!hed, it had certainly $egun the !rocess of transformation from an o!!ositional discourse critical of the status 'uo to the $asis for a set of newly emergent !ractices and institutions. #s time went on, li$eral humanism itself $ecame the dominant ideology of the most !owerful countries of Euro!e and the #mericas, as it remains, for the most !art, today. This transformation significantly altered the notions of $oth criti'ue and culture that were o!erati"e within li$eral humanism. 0ertainly $y the middle of the 43 nineteenth century, many who regarded themsel"es as legitimate heirs to this tradition were forced to dramatically reformulate their !osition and !ro(ect as cultural critics. 4erha!s the most forceful and influential of these reformulations was that of the 3ritish !oet, literary critic, and educator (atthe% Arnold 6 ;822 ;8887. 9is essays 5The <unction of 0riticism at the 4resent Time5 6 ;8657 and 50ulture and #narchy5 6 ;86@7 remain classic statements of li$eral humanism in the !ost Enlightenment era. In his essay 5:n Translating 9omer5 6 ;86;7, #rnold had already come to thin& of himself as continuing the Enlightenment tradition of li$eral humanism. There, he wrote, 5:f the literature of <rance and ,ermany, as of the intellect of Euro!e in general, the main effort, for now many years, has $een a critical effort* the endea"our, in all $ranches of &nowledge, theology, !hiloso!hy, history, art, science, to see the o$(ect as in itself it really is.5 #rnold used similar terms to descri$e his own critical underta&ings. 3ut in his e1!lanations of what is in"ol"ed in this sort of criticism, it $ecomes clear that his critical stance differs from that of most cultural critics during the Enlightenment. <or #rnold, the a!!ro!riate stance for a critic is disinterestedness rather than the ad"ocacy !racticed $y Enlightenment critics. This stance is ado!ted 5H$Iy &ee!ing aloof from what is called %the !ractical "iew of things%* $y resolutely following the law

of its own nature, which is to $e a free !lay of the mind on all su$(ects which it touches.5 Indeed, #rnold $elie"ed that the sort of criticism he was ad"ocating was corru!ted whene"er it concerned itself with any !ractical !olemics or contro"ersies. =hat, then, was the o$(ect of #rnold%s critical !ractice> In $oth of the essays mentioned a$o"e, he defined genuine criticism as 5the idea of a disinterested endea"our to learn and !ro!agate the $est that is &nown and thought in the world, and thus to esta$lish a current of fresh and true ideas.5 In 50ulture and #narchy,5 he went on to claim that this was what constituted genuine 50ulture,5 which he called 5a study in !erfection. 9ere the im!lied distinction is $etween what has often $een called high culture 650ulture with a ca!ital 0,5 as it has sometimes $een called7 and the culture of the e1isting order or the masses. :nly the former was 5true 0ulture5 for #rnold, and an a!!ro!riate o$(ect of criticism. The latter ty!e of culture was merely the !roduct of delusion, de$asement, and self aggrandi2ement+ ultimately, it was anarch! . #ny attem!t to criti'ue it would enmesh the true critic in !ractical affairs, which would signal the death of the critical stance of disinterestedness that #rnold ad"ocated. <urther de"elo!ing this line of thought, #rnold asserted in his characteristic rhetorical fashion that true 0ulture was 5sweetness and light,5 and its criticism the disinterested !ursuit of the $eauty and &nowledge im!lied $y that descri!ti"e !hrase. 3ut where could a true critic $e found who could disinterestedly !ursue such lofty aims> #rnold used the terms barbarians, philistines, and populace to indicate the aristocratic, commercial, and wor&ing classes of the England of his day, charging each with distincti"e faults that made them unsuita$le for the !ursuit of cultural !erfection. Gonetheless, he argued that from e"ery class a few enlight 44ened indi"iduals could emerge 6he classified himself in this category7 who were ca!a$le of transcending the limits of their own social station and functioning as intellectual and moral guardians of the sweetness and light of genuine 0ulture. Thus, there are significant differences $etween the li$eral humanism of the Enlightenment and that of the !ost Enlightenment !eriod as re!resented $y #rnold. :f course, the critical discourse of the Enlightenment did counter!ose itself to an entire culture that it regarded as $ar$arian, as did #rnold to his own* $ut it also called into 'uestion all authority $ut the right of the indi"idual to decide for itself on the $asis of innate human reason. #rnold, $y contrast, sought to esta$lish a new sort of authority $ased on 5the $est that has $een thought and &nown in the world,5 which he seemed to regard as contained !reeminently in a canon , or a list of great literary wor&s of the !ast, including the ancient ,ree& !oets and dramatists, )ha&es!eare, and ,oethe. #rnold%s $rand of humanism was no longer that of rational human $eings in general $ut of the humanities as great wor&s of literature and art. <urther, his li$eralism was not that of uni"ersal human rights and !olitical mechanisms for ensuring them $ut more that of the li$eral arts. 9e was sus!icious of any such cultural or !olitical machinery, maintaining that the Enlightenment had $een too much concerned with freedom 5worshi!!ed in itself5 and too little with 5the ends for which freedom is to $e desired.5 This is not to say that later li$eral humanists li&e #rnold were all antidemocratic* $ut there was an elitist dimension to their !oint of "iew, in that they tended to regard themsel"es as !ossessing the a!!ro!riately disinterested and classless stance from which to e"aluate what the 5true ends of freedom5 might $e. #rnold, in !articular, went so far as to ad"ocate a more ro$ust state, to which the anarchy of indi"idual com!etition and ca!rice could $e su$ordinated, and he suggested that !oetry might come to re!lace religion as the force that could $ind the indi"idual to the $roader social whole.

The influence of #rnold and li&e minded critics has e1tended to the !resent. It can $e traced through literary critics such as T. S. Eliot 6 ;888 ;@657 to Lionel Trilling 66 ;@05 ;@A57 and F. R. Leav is 6 ;8@5 ;@A87, in reaction to whom modern 3ritish cultural studies emerged. Today one continues to encounter am$iguity in the terms culture 6is that !o!ular culture, or high culture>7 and criticism 6literary or social>7. )uch am$iguities are a result of the transformation of li$eral humanism most nota$ly wrought $y #rnold, wherein the earlier Enlightenment notion of the humanist criti'ue of culture on $ehalf of the rights of the indi"idual $ecame a culture of criticism !racticed $y s!ecialists housed in "arious academic de!artments of modern uni"ersities.

Liberal Humanism Toda!

8i$eral humanist critical discourse is now almost 400 years old. Its current inflections are sha!ed $y se"eral im!ortant factors. Its earlier Enlightenment "ersion continued on $eyond and alongside the new form gi"en it $y such figures as #rnold. :ften the two ha"e $een in uneasy tension with one another, !articularly 45 o"er the issue of the more !o!ulist tendencies of the former "ersus the elitism of the latter. /any educational institutions ha"e $ecome dee!ly di"ided o"er 'uestions of teaching only a classical canon or incor!orating elements of !o!ular culture into the curriculum. <urther, the fact that li$eral humanism $ecame the dominant ideology of most Euro!ean and #merican go"ernments has a!!eared to many to ha"e com!romised its original critical stance. -ather than $eing a !rogressi"e force, li$eral humanism has increasingly come to $e "iewed as !art of the !ro$lem and a ma(or target for other critical discourses. Es!ecially since =orld =ar II, $roader !hiloso!hical o$(ections ha"e emerged not only to the humanism that is o!erati"e in the modern era $ut to its "ery $eginnings in ancient ,reece. 4oststructuralism, in !articular, has tended to re(ect any critical stance that de!ends on the human $eing or reason as its central notion. 0losely related to these de"elo!ments is the sense that li$eral humanism is a distincti"ely Eurocentric !oint of "iew and that it has ser"ed to maintain colonialist !atterns of cultural dominance $ased on a con"iction of moral su!eriority. The !resent 5culture wars5 o"er such areas as educational curricula often in"ol"e charges and countercharges a$out the e1tent to which li$eral humanism !ri"ileges Euro #merican "iews. It is safe to say that at "ery least, li$eral humanism as a critical discourse can no longer count on the general acce!tance it once en(oyed. It has $een forced, in recent years, to (ustify itself or reformulate its $asic !osition in the face of intensified criticism. )uch wor&s as Cohn -awls A Theory of /ustice, -o$ert Go2ic& Anarchy0 State0 and -topia, E. .. 9irsch )ultural Literacy, and #llan 3loom The )losing of the American (ind 6all !u$lished in the ;@60s, ;@A0s, and ;@80s7 re!resent in "arious ways the continued attem!t to assert and defend li$eral humanism against its detractors. #lthough $eleaguered, li$eral humanism remains for now the dominant cultural discourse and often the critical starting !oint for other critical discourses. It is therefore essential that its main contours $e understood $y anyone wishing to a!!roach the contem!orary study of culture.

+ibliographic &ssa!
#ll of the !rimary te1ts cited in 0ha!ter ; are readily a"aila$le in numerous editions and most also a!!ear in "arious anthologies, so the reader should ha"e no !ro$lem locating them. 4ro$a$ly the $est chosen and most e1tensi"e collection of Enlightenment selections 6including many $y authors discussed in this cha!ter7 is The

"nlightenment1 A )omprehensive Anthology , edited $y 4eter ,ay 6 Gew Jor&+ )imon K )chuster, ;@A37. The final edition of Bico%s ma(or wor&, 'rincipi di una Scien.a Nuova, is a"aila$le in English translation under the title The Ne% Science of Giambattista Vico, tr. Thomas 3ergin and /a1 <isch 6 Ithaca+ 0ornell Dni"ersity 4ress, ;@847. The rele"ant wor&s of /atthew #rnold can $e found in 'oetry and )riticism of (atthe% Arnold, ed. #. .wight 0uller 6 3oston+ 9oughton /ifflin, ;@6;7. :ne of the classic accounts of the modern li$eral humanist tradition, itself written from a decidedly li$eral humanist !ers!ecti"e, is The (a&ing of the (odern (ind, $y Cohn 9erman -andall Cr. 46 man -andall, Cr. 6 Gew Jor&+ 0olum$ia Dni"ersity 4ress, ;@267. )till the $est introduction to the !olitical !hiloso!hy of Enlightenment li$eral humanism is $rench Liberal Thought in the "ighteenth )entury, $y Fingsley /artin 6 Gew Jor&+ 9ar!er K -ow, ;@637. #lso highly recommended and somewhat more re"isionist in its inter!retation than the former, although !erha!s too detailed for an introduction to the su$(ect, is 4eter ,ay The "nlightenment2 An ,nterpretation 6 Gew Jor&+ Fno!f, ;@667. :n Fant%s defense of the Enlightenment conce!tion of reason and its li$eral humanist im!lications, see <rederic& 3eiser The $ate of Reason1 German 'hilosophy from 3ant to $ichte 6 0am$ridge, /ass.+ 9ar"ard Dni"ersity 4ress, ;@8A7, as well as his "nlightenment0 Revolution0 and Romanticism 6 0am$ridge, /ass.+ 9ar"ard Dni"ersity 4ress, ;@@27. 8ionel Trilling (atthe% Arnold 6 Gew Jor&+ =. =. Gorton, ;@3@7 was an im!ortant though not entirely uncritical conduit of #rnoldian ideas into contem!orary discussions. # more recent assessment is that of Cose!h 0arroll, The )ultural Theory of (atthe% Arnold 6 3er&eley+ Dni"ersity of 0alifornia 4ress, ;@827. <or an e1tremely im!ortant discussion, seminal for the emergence of 3ritish cultural studies, of a num$er of writers in the !ostEnlightenment tradition of li$eral humanism including #rnold, consult -aymond =illiams , )ulture 4 Society. ;A80 ;@50 6 Gew Jor&+ 0olum$ia Dni"ersity 4ress, ;@587. 9is "ery $rief essay entitled 5# 9undred Jears of 0ulture and #narchy in 'roblems in (aterialism and )ulture 6 8ondon+ Berso, ;@807 also !resents a trenchant criti'ue of #rnold and his influence, from the !ers!ecti"e of the founder of 3ritish cultural studies. 4A