Monday, October 7, 2013

Personal Experience as a Defeater of Biblical Claims


The following argument is meant to demonstrate that it is in principle possible to disconfirm the claims of Christianity, against the claims of those who hold Christianity to be fundamentally indefeasible. Moreover, it argues that the process by which Christianity may be disconfirmed is not one that is “out of bounds” for sincere or committed Christians – that, on the contrary, it is a process internal to genuine Christianity and therefore completely unavoidable if one is exercising faith in the appropriate, biblically-prescribed manner.

1.       God’s purpose in creating man was to fill the earth with his image[1] and thereby to establish a kingdom of worshippers. Accomplishing this purpose involves entering into relationship with mankind, which initiates a process of redemption through sanctification that ends by restoring in man the divine image.[2] It is the expression of this image that yields the distinct culture of the heavenly kingdom.[3]
2.       God receives glory via the instrument of mankind[4] through the process of self-revelation and the satisfaction of human desire (which are just two ways of saying the same thing).[5]
3.       However, man is morally and intellectually separated from God. The fundamental obstacle to God’s purpose is man’s sin and finite intellect;[6] or, what is practically equivalent, God’s transcendence, i.e., his moral perfection and intellectual infinitude.[7]
4.       The ability to understand one another is a necessary prerequisite of two persons forming a genuine relationship.[8] This requirement has both moral and intellectual dimensions (as well as others). For example, man qua moral being cannot be reconciled to something it perceives as ugly or morally abject;[9] man qua intellectual being cannot be reconciled to something it perceives as logically incoherent; etc.[10]
5.       Therefore, God’s purpose can be only accomplished via either of two strategies: the glorification of man or the condescension of God.[11] These strategies enable relationship by making functional equals of fundamental non-equals.[12]
6.       God makes provision for man’s lack primarily by acts of condescension, or accommodation, and thereby enables genuine relationship with him. The Bible tells the story of God’s various attempts to solve the problem of man’s moral and intellectual separation from God via acts of accommodation. Examples of such attempts include creating man in a state of innocence, authoring and freely entering into a series of covenants and contracts, providing mediation through the priesthood and communicating through the prophets, sending Jesus into the world as the perfect representation of himself, and finally through the ministry of the Holy Spirit. By these means as well as others, God has rendered himself more or less intelligible to mankind throughout history.[13]
7.       In order to preserve the non-triviality of the doctrine of God’s transcendence, however, we should understand God’s accommodation of man to be only partial, even in its most progressive expressions.[14] That is to say, of the full set of propositions true of God and his purposes, he has disclosed only a portion of them to mankind.
8.       It is this subset of propositions, which we will call the canonical set, that provides the exclusive grounds upon which we can engage God and rightfully expect intelligibility of interaction.[15] Within these boundaries, however, we have every right, and indeed are morally required, to make claims on God based on the content of the canonical propositions. God, therefore, has definite obligations to mankind, and mankind to God, which are defined by certain (still unspecified) propositions of scripture.[16]
Corollary 1: Therefore, to resign a claim on God on the grounds of his transcendence, or our own moral or intellectual imperfection, is only legitimate on the grounds that one has stepped outside the fair boundaries of intelligible interaction, i.e., is attempting to exercise faith toward objects (e.g., claims or promises) not included among the canonical set.[17]
Corollary 2: The resignation of claims within these fair boundaries, however, is tantamount to faithlessness insofar as we have been given no other ground to justify abandoning our claim. In fact, Christians have a positive obligation to God to uphold these claims, because it is only by them that Christians are enabled to further the divine kingdom and thus accomplish the purpose for which he created us.[18] The claims and promises of scripture are the primary, if not exclusive, resource for spiritual development and godly living. By abandoning these claims, therefore, one is essentially opting out of participation in these projects. As I see it, it is this opting out, and not the reverse, that requires justification.
9.       God’s obligations to mankind are derivative, i.e., they are a radical expression of God’s freedom insofar as he can freely choose servitude as well as kingship.[19] God is bound to the terms of his contract with man in virtue of immutable facts about his nature.[20]
10.    Furthermore, God’s obligations come in both explicit and implicit varieties. God’s explicit obligations derive from the explicit content of the promises (especially if he himself defines the practical implications of the promise, as he does, e.g., in Deut. 28-30). God’s implicit obligations derive primarily from conventional norms of language use, especially conversational norms (e.g., those maxims that Grice derives from his Cooperation Principle).[21]
11.    The grounds upon which we (i.e., those of us living in the present) are invited to engage relationship with God are stated loosely in 2 Peter 1:3-4. Let us call this the presently standing offer. This verse states that there are promises by which man can define his expectations with respect to God, and that through such interactions, man can participate in the divine nature and guard himself from evil. It is exclusively within these boundaries that our exercise of faith is secure (faith always being faith in some particular object, e.g., a claim or promise).
12.    Roughly put, our interaction with God within this domain consists of various transactions in which we act in precursory belief that a particular outcome will result (our expectations being defined by the set of promises God has provided). Through a series of these transactions, we eventually acquire a general perception of God, either as faithful or faithless, loving or unloving, good or evil, etc. This perception of God that we acquire through the experience of seeking to engage him by these terms is the proper goal of the entire “faith-transaction” enterprise. It fulfills the purpose of self-revelation, which I ascribed to God in premise (2).
13.    Through our engagement in what I have called the “faith-transaction enterprise,” we will necessarily, as a matter of due course, determine whether or not the claims and promises of scripture are reliable and true. In fact, we are psychologically disposed (though perhaps not determined) to adapt our faith according to the quality of our experience in attempted engagement with God. This is because psychological habits, of which moral and religious habits are species, become reinforced or attenuated as a function of the associated impulses being rewarded (as by confirming experiences, which produce pleasure) or frustrated (as by disconfirming experiences, which produce pain).[22]
14.    Therefore, the exercise of faith has a retroactive potency to determine the reliability and (probable)[23] truth of scriptural promises and propositions. Although it is a sin to willfully “put God to the test,”[24] there is another sense in which to exercise faith just is to put God to the test.[25] What I mean by this is that the object of faith is to make divine revelation possible, i.e., to open oneself up to the possibility of knowing God[26], and one cannot possibly accomplish this goal without simultaneously ascertaining some information concerning the accurateness of the testimony one received of him compared to the perception one has acquired through experience.
15.    Therefore, Christianity is not only defeasible in theory, but the means to disconfirm it are means available even to sincere and committed Christians. In other words, the means that I propose make it possible to disconfirm Christianity are not means that it would be prohibited for the sincere Christian to employ (e.g., by such passages of scripture as Deut. 6:16) – on the contrary, it occurs via a process that is internal to sincere Christian practice itself, and so is completely unavoidable if one is exercising faith in the appropriate, biblically-prescribed manner.


[1] Gen. 1:27-28.
[2] See Rom. 8:10-11, 22-25; 2 Cor. 1:22; 2 Cor. 5:5; and 1 Pet. 1:3-7.
[3] See Ps. 34:8; Ps. 137; 2 Cor. 5:11-21; and Rom. 8:23.
[4] Is it morally and/or theologically problematic to cast God as creating mankind, and therefore valuing mankind, only for instrumental purposes? If so, is there any way around it? Consider, for example, the language of Romans 9:16-24? Consider also Isaiah 45:9-13 and Jeremiah 18. On the other hand, if we choose to affirm the contrary of this, i.e., that God values us intrinsically as ends in ourselves, this would seems to suggest that God has a lack that he needs us to fulfill. But this equally absurd.
[5] As John Piper writes, “God’s quest to be glorified and [man’s] quest to be satisfied reach their goal in this one experience: [man’s] delight in God which overflows in praise” (Desiring God, 53).
[6] “Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation— if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel. This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven, and of which I, Paul, have become a servant” (Col. 1:21-23). See also Rom. 5:10.
[7] “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Is. 55:8-9).
[8] As James writes, “[T]he only force of appeal to us, which either a living God or an abstract ideal order can wield, is found in the ‘everlasting ruby vaults’ of our own human hearts, as they happen to beat responsive and not irresponsive to the claim. So far as they do feel it when made by a living consciousness, it is life answering to life” (The Will to Believe, 196; cf. Ps. 42:7). And also, “For a philosophy to succeed on a universal scale it must define the future congruously with our spontaneous powers. A philosophy may be unimpeachable in other respects, but either of two defects will be fatal to its universal acceptance. First, its ultimate principle must not be one that essentially baffles and disappoints our dearest desires and most cherished powers…[A] second and worse defect in a philosophy than that of contradicting our active propensities is to give them no object whatever to press against…Any philosophy which annihilates the validity of the reference by explaining away its object or translating them into terms of no emotional pertinency [sic], leaves the mind with little to care or act for” (The Will to Believe, 83).
[9] “Love can forbear, and Love can forgive…but Love can never be reconciled to an unlovely object…He can never therefore be reconciled to your sin, because sin itself is incapable of being altered; but He may be reconciled to your person, because that may be restored” (Traherne, Centuries of Meditation, II, 30 quoted in The Problem of Pain, 28). See also Mill’s response to the philosophy of Sir William Hamilton in “An Examination of Sir William Hamilton’s Philosophy” (1865).
[10] That understanding God is not an entirely fantastic notion is evidenced by several passages of scripture, including Jeremiah 9:23-24, which reads, “This is what the Lord says: ‘Let not the wise boast of their wisdom or the strong boast of their strength or the rich boast of their riches, but let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, 
that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,’ declares the Lord.” See also 1 Cor. 13:9-12.
[11] See John 3:16; Rom. 8:30 (“those he called he also glorified”); and Ps. 18:32-36 (“He stoops down to make me great”).
[12] Philip Yancey holds that love similarly, and perhaps in more perfect fashion, accomplishes this same result (see Disappointment with God, 103-104). Kierkegaard writes in this vein, “I am satisfied with a left-handed marriage in this life; faith is humble enough to insist on the right hand, for I do not deny that this is humility and will never deny it” (Fear and Trembling, 34).
[13] I think that we may apply a model of progressive revelation to the interpretation of these various events, understanding the events earlier in the series to be the least perfect and those later in the series to be the most perfect revelations of God’s nature and purposes. I think we should resist the temptation, however, to conclude that the incarnation, or even the subsequent sending of the Holy Spirit, is the most perfect revelation possible, despite certain passages of scripture that seem to affirm this (see, e.g., Heb. 1:1-3 and 1 Cor. 2:6-16). Adopting such a stance, however, fails to accommodate other passages, e.g., 1 Cor. 13:9-12, in which Paul explicitly states that our present knowledge is less perfect than it will be.
[14] “For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Cor. 13:9-12).
[15] “The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse” (Rom. 1:18-20).
“When I came to you, I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power. We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing. No, we declare God’s wisdom, a mystery that has been hidden and that God destined for our glory before time began. None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. However, as it is written: ‘What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, 
and what no human mind has conceived’ the things God has prepared for those who love him—these are the things God has revealed to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who knows a person’s thoughts except their own spirit within them? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words. The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit. The person with the Spirit makes judgments about all things, but such a person is not subject to merely human judgments, for, ‘Who has known the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ” (1 Cor. 2:1-16).
[16] As Mill writes, “When a person, either by express promise or by conduct, has encouraged another to rely on his continuing to act in a certain way – to build expectations and calculations, and stake any part of his plan of life upon that supposition – a new series of moral obligations arises on his part towards that person, which may possibly be overruled, but cannot be ignored” (Mill 1859, 104; quoted in The Moral Animal, 360).
[17] I think Kierkegaard’s phrase “reckoning without a host” is apt to describe this type of behavior (see Training in Christianity, 172). An example of this behavior is found in Numbers 14 in which the Israelites are described as scorning God’s delimitation of the actions he will support by leading an attack on the inhabitants of the Promised Land, an attack in which they suffered a disastrous defeat.
[18] E.g., “I have posted watchmen on your walls, Jerusalem; they will never be silent day or night. You who call on the Lord, give yourselves no rest, and give him no rest till he establishes Jerusalem and makes her the praise of the earth” (Is. 62:6-7; italics mine). See also Luke 18:1-8 and Matt 15:21-28.
[19] “[W]hoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matt. 20:27-28; cf. Mark 10:43-44). See also John 13:1-17. Kierkegaard comments on these texts, “[S]urely Christ’s humiliation was not something which merely happened to Him (even though it was the sin of that generation that they crucified Him), something which happened to Him and perhaps would not have happened to Him in a better age. Christ Himself willed to be the humiliated and lowly one. Humiliation (the fact that it pleased God, to be the lowly man) is therefore something He Himself has joined together, something He wills to have knit together, a dialectical knot which no one shall presume to untie, which indeed no one can unite before He Himself has united it by coming again in glory…history must not incommode itself to do Him justice, nor must we with impious heedlessness fancy presumptuously that we know as a matter of course who He was…Woe to the generation that dared to say, Let now all the injustice He suffered by forgotten, history has now made manifest who He was and reinstated Him in His rights. By assuming that history is capable of doing this we put Christ’s humiliation in an accidental relation to Him….But if such is His royal will, and if only at His return will He show Himself in glory, and if He has not yet returned; and if no generation can contemplate without the compunction of repentance what that generation did to Him, with a sense of guilty participation - then woe to him who presumes to take His lowliness from Him, or to let it be forgot what injustice He suffered, decking Him fabulously in the human glory of the historical consequences, which is neither one thing nor the other.” (Training in Christianity, 29-30)
[20] “When God made his promise to Abraham, since there was no one greater for him to swear by, he swore by himself, saying, ‘I will surely bless you and give you many descendants.’ And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised. People swear by someone greater than themselves, and the oath confirms what is said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek” (Heb. 6:13-20).
[21] See H. P. Grice’s “Logic and Conversation” and Kent Bach’s “Conventional Implicature.” As Paul Ricouer of the University of Paris explains, “How can I speak of a lie without contrasting it with a true statement? And what about reality? How can I speak of an illusion without starting out from that? That means you have to start out from the basis of a true statement - make sure people can rely on your words. I think Derrida somewhere calls it the religious act par excellence: believing someone else’s word. And that’s the basis of all interaction. It’s the basis of a promise. Because a promise is not just any old act; it’s a fundamental act, because it’s based on three things: first, I am bound with respect to myself; second, I am bound with respect to the other person who is relying on me to keep my promise; and third, I am protecting the language as an institution and using it honestly. There are three partners in the promise: there’s me, there’s the other person, and there’s the language itself. So that, I would say, is the basis for trust” (quote taken from The Examined Life Introduction to Philosophy DVD Series).
An example of this principle in practice: Jesus can say amongst his disciples (assuming they are all in good health), “I am the great physician” without implicating anything about his present intentions to heal any of them (see John 11:21-27). However, if he were to speak the very same message in a room full of invalids (and especially if rumors of his healing powers preceded him), these words would necessarily imply that he had present intentions to heal, i.e., as a function of the needs and occurrent psychological biases of the audience, which determine their interpretation of his words. That audience would be justified in forming expectations of impending miracles (and therefore God would be genuinely obliged to perform them) in virtue of his responsibility to adhere to our conversational norms (see 2 Kings 4:8-37).
[22] Psychologist John Atkinson (1982) describes the mechanism at work here in the following manner: “If a certain kind of activity has been intrinsically satisfying or rewarded… , there will be an instigating force (F) for that activity. This will cause a more or less rapid increase in the strength of an inclination to engage in that activity, an action tendency (T), depending on the magnitude of the force. If a certain kind of activity has been frustrated or punished in the past, there will be an inhibitory force (I) and a more or less rapid growth in the strength of a disinclination to act or negaction tendency (N). This is a tendency not to do it. The duration of exposure to these forces…will determine how strong the action or negaction tendency becomes. The latter, the tendency not to do something, will produce resistance to the activity. It opposes, blocks, dampens, the action tendency. That is, it subtracts from the action tendency to determine the resultant action tendency… . The resultant action tendency competes with resultant action tendencies for other incompatible activities. The strongest of them is expressed in behavior” (quoted in Mele 1998, 26-27).
This principle also finds support in scripture (see, e.g., John 6:53-58, John 15:1-6) and is a necessary presupposition if we are to make tenable the claim that man can learn to discriminate truth about God from falsehood (cf. Matt. 13:11-12). To deny this premise is to affirm the claim that man can sustain genuine faith (faith, moreover that is spiritually and practically effectual) both in the complete absence of God (as in the case of God’s non-existence) as well as in the absence of God’s sustained provision (as in the case of God’s inactivity). If these are the only two options, I would argue that the burden of truth lies with those who deny this premise.
[23] It is true that no amount of experience is sufficient to guarantee the conclusion that scripture is true. The only kind of argument supported by empirical evidence – e.g., this present argument, which relies on our personal experience in attempted engagement with God by the terms defined in scripture – are inductive arguments. The conclusions they deliver, therefore, are at best probably true.
[24] See Deut. 6:16, Ps. 78:18, Matt. 4:7, etc.
[25] That these two claims are not necessarily incompatible is supported by such passages as Malachi 3:10-11 in which God tells the Israelites with regard to the practice of tithing, “Test me in this…and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.”
[26] It does this by providing markers to guide in the interpretation of one’s experiences, such that one can discriminate those genuine experiences of God from the “noise” of merely natural processes. This principle underlies the chronos/kairos distinction recognized by early Christians (as well as Christ, himself), chronos referring to the merely mechanical passage of time, kairos referring to providential events.

James on Achieving Intimacy with God


1. Introduction
            Religious concerns pervade the thought of William James. In but a few of his philosophical works are the moral and religious implications of his position ever far from view, and often they provide the most prominent unifying thread of an entire work.[1] Among the most recurrent religious themes that feature in James’s writings is that of mankind’s deep desire to achieve intimacy with God, and a fair amount of his philosophic effort is expended warring against the forces that he takes to be blocking the satisfaction of this desire. In the span of several of his philosophical works, James grapples with the problems of existential angst,[2] religious pessimism,[3] and suicide.[4] His general diagnosis of each of these problems is the same, and can be traced back the frustration of a single impulse: the impulse for rational unity. According to James, this impulse is what motivates absolutist monist philosophies, and is what must ultimately be denied in order to achieve conciliation with nature, and consequently with God. More precisely, what James argues for in the various works in which these topics are addressed is a sort of delimitation of the rationalistic impulse, or a narrowing of its field of application. Such a move makes room for pluralism, which, “in exorcising the absolute, exorcises the great de-realizer of the only life we are at home in, and thus redeems the nature of reality from essential foreignness.”[5] In this essay, I will assess James’s arguments for pluralism as a solution to the problems of existential angst and religious pessimism within the metaphysical backdrop that he provides.

2. Existential Angst
2.1 Overview
            The feeling that one is a stranger in this world, most often provoked by the discovery of discord between one’s internal nature and the nature of the universe that environs him, has long proved an impediment to the exercise of mankind’s spiritual impulse. There is a sense, therefore, in which achieving conciliation with nature is a necessary precondition for attaining intimacy with God whose nature we take it in some degree to express. In the introductory chapter to A Pluralistic Universe, James invokes Hegel to support his account of the function of human reason: “The aim of knowledge,” says Hegel, “is to divest the objective world of its strangeness, and to make us more at home in it.”[6] But, as James later reflects, this task requires more than simply discovering order underneath all its apparent chaos. Not only must “an order be made,” explains James, “[but] in that order the higher side of things must dominate.”[7] For mankind to truly feel at home in his environment, in other words, he must find the “inner life of things [to] be substantially akin…to the tenderer parts of [his own nature].”[8] Throughout the remainder of A Pluralistic Universe, James sets out to demonstrate how the doctrine of pluralism can be applied to resolve this problem of existential angst.
           
2.2 Diagnosis
            At the bottom of mankind’s angst over his existence is a single frustrated impulse, the impulse for rational unity. James once referred to this impulse as “the mind’s most necessary law,”[9] and describes it as providing one of the primary stimuli for all philosophic activity.[10] As implicit in the previous section’s remarks, rationality comes in two species. The first of these is variably characterized as formal, intellectual, and logical, and corresponds to the domain of the theoretical sciences. The impulse for rational unity as applied to our theoretical interests expresses itself in seeking order amidst chaos, especially in the form of logical and mathematical harmonies. The second species of rationality is variably described as sentimental, aesthetic, and teleological, and corresponds to the domain of moral and practical affairs.[11] According to James, it is this latter species that motivates the various spiritualistic philosophies. The spiritual way of thinking is that which underlies all sorts of religious attitude, and is characterized by a kind of insistence that “the intimate and human surround and underlie the brutal.”[12] Perhaps a better way to express this sentiment is to say that the spiritual way of thinking imagines external nature to be governed by the same aesthetic and sentimental principles that govern our own internal nature.
            Corresponding to each of these rational interests is a distinct species of existential angst, which is precipitated whenever foreignness erupts into either domain and frustrates our activity there. As James writes,
Accidents, either moral, mental, or physical, break up the slowly built-up equilibriums men reach in family life and in their civic and professional relations. Intellectual enigmas frustrate our scientific systems, and the ultimate cruelty of the universe upsets our religious attitudes and outlooks. Of no special system of good attained does the universe recognize the value as sacred.[13]

As I understand it, the species of existential angst that corresponds to our moral and practical interests is of the same basic form as the problem of religious pessimism to be addressed later. Setting these concerns aside, then, for the time being, let us focus on the species corresponding to our theoretical interests.
            C.I. Lewis once described the problem that is our present target in the preface to his book, Mind and the World Order. In it he writes,
[Abstractness] and systematic precision go together, and…exact deductive procedures may give rise to no corresponding certainty about empirical nature. Logical integrity and concrete applicability are quite separate matters…[The] analytic character and abstractness of exact systems, which assure to them that kind of certainty which they have, tend to divorce them from that empirical truth which is the object of natural science and the content of our possible knowledge of nature…[I]t appears that we must accept a kind of double-truth: there are the certainties, such as those of mathematics, which concern directly only what is abstract; and there are the presentations of our sense-experience to which we seek to apply them, but with a resultant empirical truth which may be no more than probable.[14]

            Highlighted in this passage is the failure of conceptual models of empirical reality to make our predictions concerning the latter perfectly secure. Such models are constructed via abstraction, which is the primary mechanism of man’s rational impulse. James understands abstraction to proceed in two phases. The first of these involves the breaking up of the stream of experience into functional objects.[15] Such objects, as James conceives them, are mere “mock-ups, pockets, boxes of relations that are snipped and packaged for reasons of utility.”[16] The second phase of abstraction involves the creation of conceptual substitutes for these objects, which are then employed theoretically to predict the quality of future experience. Such concepts are said to “know” their objects whenever they can act as effective substitutes for all the practical functions of the object itself, i.e.,
an experience that knows another [i.e., a concept] can figure as [the percept’s] representative, not in any quasi-miraculous ‘epistemological’ sense, but in the definite practical sense of being its substitute in various operations, sometimes physical and sometimes mental, which lead us to its associates and results. By experimenting on our ideas of reality, we may save ourselves the trouble of experimenting on the real experiences which they severally mean.[17]

            While James recognizes that paths that run through conceptual experiences are often highly advantageous paths for thought to follow,[18] he also stresses their inherent limitations.[19] “Most thought-paths,” writes James, “are substitutes for nothing actual; they end outside the real world altogether, in wayward fancies, utopias, fictions or mistakes.”[20] When these paths fail to terminate where we expect them to, or end outside the real world altogether, this brings our activity to a screeching halt. Such disruptions in our active lives generate feelings of distress similar to that experienced when the breathing impulse is suppressed, as James explains:
Just as we feel no particular pleasure when we breathe freely, but a very intense feeling of distress when the respiratory motions are prevented, – so any unobstructed tendency to action discharges itself without the production of much cogitative accompaniment, and any perfectly fluent course of thought awakens but little feeling; but when the movement is inhibited, or when the thought meets with difficulties, we experience distress.[21]

Naturally, relief is sought through the reparation of our conceptual models; i.e., we revise our theories, “making changes as local and minimal as possible,”[22] until our activity is freed again. James, however, sees this project as ultimately futile and argues instead for a decisive delimitation of the rational impulse. Such an impulse, he admits, has many times proven prophetic, discovering logical and mathematical harmonies to truly “lie hidden between all the chinks and interstices of the crude natural world.”[23] But these harmonies are forever incomplete, according to James, and only by ultimately embracing pluralism can we definitively exclude foreignness from the theoretical domain.[24]
            The only appropriate attitude to take toward such a world as our own, argues James, is one in which every conceptual model of reality is treated merely as a hypothesis. James’s own view, which he calls radical empiricism, is built upon just such a principle.[25] “He who takes for his hypothesis the notion that [pluralism] is the permanent form of the world,” writes James, “is what I call a radical empiricist. For him the crudity of experience remains an eternal element thereof. There is no possible point of view from which the world can appear an absolutely single fact.”[26] Set in stark contrast to this attitude is that of absolutist philosophies, the great claim of which is precisely that the absolute is no hypothesis, but rather “a presupposition implicated in all thinking, and needing only a little effort of analysis to be seen as a logical necessity.”[27] In the absolutist’s universe, consequently, “Advance in thinking…[has] to proceed by the apodictic words must be rather than those by the inferior hypothetic words may be, which are all that empiricists can use.”[28]
            Such an approach to philosophical inquiry, as one commentator remarks, is anathema in James’s search for truth, meaning, and insight.[29] The religious implications of the absolutist’s claim, for instance, include the absurd conclusion that, if God exists, then he is reflected in nature. This, in turn, weds us to the impossible task of trying to reconcile our notion of God with the facts of experience.[30] The theoretical implications are perhaps less severe, but are nonetheless troublesome to James. These primarily include the inability to extricate ourselves from what is essentially a futile endeavor to have our conceptual models match up with the empirical world. In a world such as ours, insists James, “openness to experience, to novelty, to surprise is a cardinal tenet of the philosophical enterprise,”[31] and no philosophy will ultimately be deemed rational that fails to anticipate these features. Treating our theoretical models as mere hypotheses, however, subject always to revision in light of future experiences, decisively prevents us from passing final judgments on the nature of reality. All conclusions that we might draw within such a system are reduced to mere maybes, thus preserving a domain for the exercise of faith in religious and moral possibilities.[32] Furthermore, it allows us to anticipate novelties in experience, effectively neutralizing their disruptive tendencies within our active lives.

2.3 Objections and Replies
            By reinforcing the boundary between the conceptual and the empirical, James seeks to preserve indefinitely a domain for the exercise of faith. But, as he admits in The Will to Believe, this method is effective only at safeguarding one’s faith in those possibilities that have not already been reduced to zero, i.e., those not already determined by the evidence.[33] For example, the fact that future experience may always turn up a white crow safeguards my faith in the belief that “all crows are black” is a false proposition (perhaps indefinitely). But note that the same white crow is sufficient to defeat my faith in the opposite belief, namely that “all crows are black” is true. Therefore, while it is true that certain possibilities will always be available under James’s system upon which I may exercise my powers of faith, this is no guarantee that the set of possibilities that are truly important to me will fall among that set.
            Turning first to the theoretical domain, it seems that James’s solution is almost superfluous. That is to say, when we consider the great successes of science under the guidance of our theoretical instincts, it is not clear that our formal or scientific interests were ever under serious threat from the absolutist’s thesis. In fact, adopting pluralism in our theoretical endeavors would seem rather like shooting ourselves in the foot if the world’s unity, considered formally, turned out to be complete – which, indeed, seems to be the direction we’re heading. In such a case, pluralism would just be one more theoretical model that failed to faithfully represent empirical reality. While we might be happier to be proved wrong in this latter case having expected irrationality and discovered rationality than we would have otherwise been had our hypothesis predicted rationality at the start and then discovered none, this advantage seems trifling.
            The more genuine threat, rather, seems to be to our moral and sentimental interests; for while the scientific enterprise continues to thrive under the guidance of our theoretical instincts, our moral ideals appear to languish under the inspiration of our religious instincts. James himself seems to recognize the superior track record of the former to the latter when he writes,
Without an imperious inner demand on our part for ideal logical and mathematical harmonies, we should never have attained to proving that such harmonies lie hidden between all the chinks and interstices of the crude natural world. Hardly a law has been established in science, hardly a fact ascertained, which was not first sought after, often with sweat and blood, to gratify an inner need…But the inner need of believing that this world of nature is a sign of something more spiritual and eternal than itself is just as strong and authoritative in those who feel it, as the inner need of uniform laws of causation ever can be in a professionally scientific head. The toil of many generations has proved the latter need prophetic. Why may not the former one be prophetic, too? And if needs of ours outrun the visible universe, why may not that be a sign that an invisible universe is there? What, in short, has authority to debar us from trusting our religious demands?[34]

In other words, our theoretical instincts have been tried and proven prophetic; it is our religious instincts whose prophetic potential remains questionable. Such considerations should lead us to conclude that pluralism is not really much help to our theoretical interests (and, all things considered, might actually do more harm than good), and that if such a solution is necessary at all, it must be to serve our interests in the moral domain.            
            Turning then to the moral domain, what reasons do we have to believe that those possibilities that are truly important in supporting our moral interests are among those that James’s solution succeeds in preserving? Assume, for the sake of argument, that included among these vital possibilities were Kant’s three ideas, God, freedom, and the soul. Can we not imagine having an experience that would be sufficient to defeat any of these hypotheses, a “white crow” of sorts relative to each of these hypotheses? If such an experience were in principle possible – and I argue in the next section that it is – then our moral interests would again fall under threat, and existential angst would reemerge.
            James might reply, however, that the hypotheses with which he is concerned do not make such sweeping generalizations concerning the possibilities within experience. Believing in God, for James, is not so much like believing “all crows are black,” which, due to its sweeping nature, is highly susceptible to defeating experiences, but rather like believing “some crows are black,” or perhaps “most crows are black,” claims that can withstand the discovery of a few white crows. As he writes, “Let God but have the least infinitesimal other of any kind beside him, and empiricism and rationalism might strike hands in a lasting treaty of peace.”[35] Before we give any more thought to this feature of James’s argument, however, let us first turn to consider the problem of religious pessimism to which it more fully applies.

3. Religious Pessimism
3.1 Overview
            The problem of existential angst as it manifests itself in the moral and practical domains is deeply intertwined with the problems of religious pessimism and suicide. James addresses these latter issues in various works, the most notable of which include a chapter in The Varieties of Religious Experience entitled “The Sick Soul,” and in an essay published in The Will to Believe entitled “Is Life Worth Living?” In both of these works, he appeals to the resources of radical empiricism – primarily its central feature, pluralism – to resolve the core difficulty.

3.2 Diagnosis
            “Pessimism,” writes James, “is essentially a religious disease. In the form of it to which you are most liable, it consists in nothing but a religious demand to which there comes no normal religious reply.”[36] Translated into terms with which we are now more familiar, religious pessimism is the result of our religious instincts failing to guide us into fruitful correspondences with reality – either actively or reflectively. Understood actively, religious pessimism is just the psychic discharge that results from a particular kind of practical failure. For example, someone might set out in life with some sense of providence, and sensing herself to be guided along by it, might imagine that a certain prospect is guaranteed to her (i.e., if only she does her part). If later, having faithfully kept to the course, circumstances did not subsequently align so as to secure the hoped-for prospect, she might feel that she had been cheated or misled by providence, and her faith in it would consequently suffer.[37] Such disappointments would naturally discharge themselves as distress of a distinctly religious quality.
            The reflective sources of religious pessimism are equally potent. In fact, it is they that are responsible for supplying us with those instincts that so often run our active lives afoul. James identifies the great reflective source of pessimism as “the contradiction between the phenomena of nature and the craving of the heart to believe that behind nature there is a spirit whose expression nature is.”[38] So understood, religious pessimism bears many of the marks that characterized the angst of our previous section’s discussion. Not surprisingly, then, pluralism plays an important role in James’s two-stage resolution. As he explains,
Now this inner discord (merely as discord) can be relieved in either of two ways: The longing to read the facts religiously may cease, and leave the bare facts by themselves; or, supplementary facts may be discovered and believed-in, which permit the religious reading to go on. These two levels of relief are the two stages of recovery, the two levels of escape from pessimism…[39]

            The initial step towards getting into healthy ultimate relations with the universe, according to James, is the act of rebellion against the idea that a God of nature, simply taken as such, exists.[40] This move involves the rejection of absolute monism, which effectively blocks any final conclusions from being drawn concerning the nature of God from the presence of evil in the world. As James explains, “With evil simply taken, men can make short work, for their relations with it then are only practical. It looms up no longer so spectrally, it loses all its haunting and perplexing significance, as soon as the mind attacks the instances of it singly, and ceases to worry about their derivation from the ‘one and only Power.’”[41] The second stage in the recovery process is the adoption of pluralism as our new working hypothesis, and the exercise of faith in a supernatural order.[42] “[W]e have a right,” argues James, “to believe the physical order to be only a partial order [and] to supplement it by an unseen spiritual order which we assume on trust, if only thereby life may seem to us better worth living again.”[43]
            What faith in such a reality would look like in exercise – i.e., what its practical effects would be once adopted – is of supreme importance to our final assessment of this solution. As initially advertised, the second stage of this solution would bring “joy” and the “freer exercise of religious trust and fancy.”[44] We are clearly entitled, therefore, to expect this second iteration of faith to work better than its abandoned predecessor – not just reflectively, but actively as well. What this would require, minimally, is (1) that we are not led back into systematic practical failure under faith’s influence, and (2) that it provide some mechanism to neutralize the disruptive force of individual moral and religious defeats. Failure to satisfy either of these conditions would leave an opening for the pessimistic attitude to reemerge and thus leave our central problem unresolved.

3.3 Objections and Replies
            We closed the last section’s objections with a quote by James that encouraged us to dilute our religious hypotheses such that they might withstand a few contrary facts in experience. Having explored the problem of religious pessimism, we are now ready to evaluate the full potential of this idea. Our quote read, “Let God but have the least infinitesimal other of any kind beside him, and empiricism and rationalism might strike hands in a lasting treaty of peace.”[45] Diluting our religious and moral hypotheses to just this extent, argues James, preserves “the maximum amount of rationality practically attainable by our minds.”[46] But how so?
            James’s notion of rationality, if you recall, is tightly bound up with that of congeniality to our spontaneous powers.[47] Several of these powers, e.g., man’s theoretical instincts and his capacity for faith, have already been discussed. Taken by themselves, it would seem that the most rational world for humans to inhabit would simply be one in which their theoretical and religious instincts proved fruitful in practice. But James imagines us to possess further powers the exercise of which requires the presence of resistance and opposition. As he reflects, “Need and struggle are what excite and inspire us…Not the Jews of the captivity, but those of the days of Solomon’s glory are those from whom the pessimistic utterances in our Bible come.”[48] If our moral powers really do thrive best under conditions of struggle and lack, then perhaps pluralism is just what the doctor ordered.
            Furthermore, there are a significant number of passages in which James flirts with the possibility of the world’s plurality “blossoming” into perfect unity, particularly as a result of men’s investments in that direction.[49] Take, for instance, his continuation of the previous thought that our moral instincts thrive under conditions of struggle, applied here to the question of whether life is worth living:
What sort of thing would life really be, with your qualities ready for a tussle with it, if it only brought fair weather and gave these higher faculties of yours no scope?...This life is worth living, we can say, since it is what we make of it, from the moral point of view; and we are determined to make it from that point of view, so far as we have anything to do with it, a success…If this life be not a real fight, in which something is eternally gained for the universe by success, it is no better than a game of private theatricals from which one may withdraw at will. But it feels like a real fight, – as if there were something really wild in the universe which we, with all our idealities and faithfulnesses, are needed to redeem; and first of all to redeem our own hearts from atheisms and fears. For such a half-wild, half-saved universe our nature is adapted.[50]

Here, in man’s fighting impulse, we have a possible mechanism for neutralizing the disruptive force of individual moral and religious defeats. By taking the possibility of religious failure as evidence that our battle is a genuine one, we can choose to respond to our religious distress constructively rather than resignedly, allowing it to reinvigorate our spiritual lives.
            But this mechanism only extends so far, as the inadequacy of the rationalist’s brand of faith to sustain our religious lives has already served to demonstrate. A few well-absorbed punches might merely rouse the boxer’s fighting spirit, but a sustained series of direct blows will end the fight for even the most dogged fighter. Therefore, while we may appreciate the inspirational nature of James’s life-as-a-battle metaphor, we must not allow the emotional force of such words to suffice for their accurateness. James’s imagery above will be apt just in case experience meets our moral and religious instincts (exercised in the way James prescribes) with mere resistance, which serves to incite, and not outright defiance, which serves to extinguish. The question, then, is whether James’s prescription for the proper exercise of faith will hold up any better than the rationalist’s.
            As we turn to James’s account of how faith is to be properly exercised, however, it’s not apparent to me why it should fare any better in practice than that which we previously rejected. First, he defines faith as “belief in something concerning which doubt is still theoretically possible.” Second, we are told, “as the test of belief is willingness to act, one may say that faith is the readiness to act in a cause the prosperous issue of which is not certified to us in advance.”[51] Finally, we are encouraged to trust our religious demands, where this is taken to mean “to live in the light of them, and to act as if the invisible world which they suggest were real.”[52] It is at this point that we must challenge the aptness of James’s battle imagery to capture the reality of our situation. If James intends, for instance, to include among our religious demands the demand for teleological unity, which I suggested before underlies our feeling of being guided by providence,[53] then I think the battle imagery quite misleading, for experience meets this particular instinct of ours with not just rousing provocation but outright defiance. Our sense of providence is a paradigm religious instinct our trust in which leads to systematic failure in our active lives. Therefore, while I acknowledge the potential of James’s solution to neutralize the disruptive force of individual defeats in our moral and spiritual lives, I deny that it helps much to render our religious instincts more fruitful in practice or to make chronic failures in this regard less problematic to the project of providing a theoretical defense of faith. 
            James’s solution suffers from two more weaknesses that I will only mention briefly before concluding. First, while the notion of a receding pluralism makes decent sense in the moral realm, in which many of the vital possibilities are intersubjective in nature (and therefore directly adaptive to our influence), I don’t see how it is meant to translate into the theoretical domain, in which the vital possibilities are purely objective. Faith in our theoretical instincts may be required to discover that the world exists as a complete formal unity, e.g., by making us attentive to the data that would corroborate such a fact, but it certainly doesn’t determine the outcome one way or the other, as faith in the moral sphere has the potential to do. Second, even in the moral sphere, the efficacy of our faith to determine future states of affairs extends only to those vital possibilities that are intersubjective in nature – which not all of them are. Therefore, unless we’re ready to reduce God’s reality itself to a merely intersubjective possibility, then even the best universe that we might achieve through our cooperative faith will nonetheless be a godless one. Needless to say, such a universe would fall pitifully short of the religious ideal.

4. Conclusion
            James’s argument succeeds or fails according to its ability to preserve a domain in the realm of experience for the free exercise of faith. However, if the health and functionality of faith as a psychological capacity is dependent on its practical successes and failures when exercised, as I insist it is, then it will not likely survive in a world in which no moral laws actually obtain. Frustration of the religious impulse serves to excite it only to the most minimal extent before it is ultimately overwhelmed and extinguished. In order to grow our religious capacities, the individual moral and religious defeats they suffer must be compensated for with many more successes under faith’s influence. Therefore, without providing also a rule of practice to guide our religious instincts into fruitful correspondences with reality, we must reject James’s solution as ultimately, though however tragically, inadequate.

Bibliography
Bach, Kent. “An Analysis of Self-Deception.” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 41, No. 3 (Mar., 1981), 358.

James, William. A Pluralistic Universe: Hibbert Lectures at Manchester College on the Present Situation in Philosophy. New York: Longmans. Green, and Co., 1920.

James, William. Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking. New York:             Barnes and Noble, Inc., 2003.

James, William. The Varieties of Religious Experience: a Study in Human Nature. New             York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2004.

James, William. The Will to Believe and other essays in popular philosophy. New York:             Dover             Publications Inc., 1956.

Lewis, Clarence Irving. Mind and the World Order: Outline of a Theory of Knowledge. New York: Dover Publication, Inc., 1929.

Stuhr, John J. Pragmatism and Classical American Philosophy: Essential Readings and Interpretive Essays. Second edition. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000.


[1] Consider, for instance, that James presents his metaphysics in A Pluralistic Universe in the context of a religious dilemma, and pluralism itself largely as a necessary postulate to account for the universe’s indifference to our moral interests.
[2] William James, A Pluralistic Universe: Hibbert Lectures at Manchester College on the Present Situation in Philosophy (New York: Longmans. Green, and Co., 1920). See “The Types of Philosophic Thinking,” pp. 1-40.
[3] William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience: a Study in Human Nature (New             York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2004). See “The Sick Soul,” pp. 119-150.
[4] William James, The Will to Believe and other essays in popular philosophy (New York: Dover Publications Inc., 1956). See “Is Life Worth Living?” pp. 32-62.
[5] James 1920,49-50.
[6] John J. Stuhr, Pragmatism and Classical American Philosophy: Essential Readings and Interpretive Essays, second edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 153.
[7] Ibid., 159.
[8] Ibid., 158.
[9] James 1956, 120.
[10] William James, Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking (New York: Barnes and Noble, Inc., 2003). See p. 56 where James discusses the definition of philosophy as “the quest or the vision of the world’s unity.”
[11] See, e.g., James 1920, 320.
[12] Stuhr 2000, 156.
[13] James 1920, 89.
[14] Clive Irving Lewis, Mind and the World Order: Outline of a Theory of Knowledge (New York: Dover Publication, Inc., 1929), viii-ix.
[15] Stuhr 2000, 188.
[16] Stuhr 2000, 146.
[17] Stuhr 2000, 186.
[18] E.g., “Not only do they yield inconceivably rapid transitions; but owing to the universal character which they frequently possess, and to their capacity for association with one another in great systems, they outstrip the tardy consecutions of the things themselves, and sweep us on towards our ultimate termini in a far more labor-saving way than the following of trains of sensible perception ever could” (Stuhr 2000, 186-187).
[19] As one commentator remarks, “The flow of consciousness is whole and continuous, whereas our conceptual formulations tend to break it up into definitions, names, nouns, and other assorted categories. It is true, of course, that to survive, human beings need placeholders, perches, moving points in the flow [of experience], which act as redoubts, way stations, and abodes. Were they not present, we would be carried in the stream as flotsam, rudderless. The task then is twofold: (1) forge those moorings that are most propitious and advantageous for our human needs and (2) avoid becoming trapped and mired such that we confuse our own temporary bunker with the entire fabric of possibility” (Stuhr 2000, 149).
[20] Stuhr 2000, 186-187.
[21] James 1956, 64.
[22] Kent Bach, “An Analysis of Self-Deception,” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 41, No. 3 (Mar., 1981), 358. Cf. James 2003, 26-27.
[23] “Without an imperious inner demand on our part for ideal logical and mathematical harmonies, we should never have attained to proving that such harmonies lie hidden between all the chinks and interstices of the crude natural world” (James 1956, 55).
[24] “Pluralism, in exorcising the absolute, exorcises the great de-realizer of the only life we are at home in, and thus redeems the nature of reality from essential foreignness” (James 1920,49-50).
[25] “Were I obliged to give a short name to the attitude in question, I should call it that of radical empiricism…I say ‘empiricism’ because it is contented to regard its most assured conclusions concerning matters of fact as hypotheses liable to modification in the course of future experience; and I say ‘radical,’ because it treats the doctrine of monism itself as an hypothesis (James 1956, vii-viii).
[26] James 1956, vii-viii (quoted in Stuhr 2000, 145).
[27] James 1920,51.
[28] James 1920,101.
[29] Stuhr 2000, 147.
[30] As James writes, “we of the 19th century, with our evolutionary theories and our mechanical philosophies, already know nature too impartially and too well to worship unreservedly any God of whose character she can be an adequate expression” (James 1956, 43).
[31] Stuhr 2000, 147.
[32] “Faith means belief in something concerning which doubt is still theoretically possible; and as the test of belief is willingness to act, one may say that faith is the readiness to act in a cause the prosperous issue of which is not certified to us in advance” (James 1956, 90). Similarly, James writes, “possibilities, not finished facts, are the realities with which we have actively to deal; and to quote my friend William Salter, of the Philadelphia Ethical Society, ‘as the essence of courage is to stake one’s life on a possibility, so the essence of faith is to believe that the possibility exists’” (James 1956, 62).
[33] “Our passional nature not only lawfully may, but must, decide an option between propositions, whenever it is a genuine option that cannot by its nature be decided on intellectual grounds…”(James 1956, 11; italics mine). Also, “we are free to trust at our own risks anything that is not impossible, and that can bring analogies to bear in its behalf” (James 1956, 57).
[34] James 1956, 55-56.
[35] James 1920, 312.
[36] James 1956, 39.
[37] The intimate connection between mankind’s felt awareness of providential forces and his aesthetic instinct, as expressed in the quest for the world’s “aesthetic” or “teleological” unity, makes this an especially potent example. See James 2003, 62-63.
[38] James 1956, 40. James imagines this contradiction to have the most adverse affect on those who are empirically minded by nature. As he writes, “Now, suppose a mind [of the more strongly empirical type], whose imagination is pent in consequently, and who takes its facts ‘hard;’ suppose it, moreover, to feel strongly the craving for communion, and yet to rationalize how desperately difficult it is to construe the scientific order of nature either theologically or poetically, – and what result can there be but inner discord and contradiction?” (James 1956, 40-41).
[39] James 1956, 40-41.
[40] James 1956, 44.
[41] James 1956, 46.
[42] James treats religion in the supernaturalist sense, which “declares that the so-called order of nature, which constitutes this world’s experience, is only one portion of the total universe, and there stretches beyond this visible world an unseen world of which we now know nothing positive, but in its relation to which the true significance of our present mundane life consists” (James 1956, 51).
[43] James 1956, 52.
[44] James 1956, 39-40.
[45] James 1920, 312.
[46] James 1920, 319. In explicating this point, James seems to acknowledge that adopting pluralism for its services in the moral sphere comes at a substantial cost to our desire for absolute formal unity. See, e.g., James 1920, 313-314.
[47] “For a philosophy to succeed on a universal scale it must define the future congruously with our spontaneous powers. A philosophy may be unimpeachable in other respects, but either of two defects will be fatal to its universal acceptance. First, its ultimate principle must not be one that essentially baffles and disappoints our dearest desires and most cherished powers…[A] second and worse defect in a philosophy than that of contradicting our active propensities is to give them no object whatever to press against…Any philosophy which annihilates the validity of the reference by explaining away its object or translating them into terms of no emotional [pertinence], leaves the mind with little to care or act for” (James 1956, 83). See also pp. 54-55, 77, 82-83, 86-88, 196.
[48] James 1956, 47.
[49] Stuhr 2000, 193. For example, in the conclusion to his essay “A World of Pure Experience,” he writes, “The world is in so forth a pluralism of which the unity is not fully experienced as yet. But, as fast as verifications come, trains of experience, once separate, run into one another; and that is why I said, earlier in my essay, that the unity of the world is on the whole undergoing increase” (Stuhr 2000, 193). In another essay, James goes even further and acknowledges, “That there may be one sovereign purpose, system, kind, and story [in the world], is a legitimate hypothesis” (James 2003, 63).
[50] James 1956, 60-61. This idea also features in The Varieties of Religious Experience, where James writes, “[According to the gospel of healthy-mindedness,] evil [need not] be essential; it might be, and might always have been, an independent portion that had no rational or absolute right to live with the rest, and which we might conceivably hope to see got rid of at last…Here we have the interesting notion fairly and squarely presented to us, of there being elements of the universe which may make no rational whole in conjunction with the other elements, and which, from the point of view of any system which those other elements make up, can only be considered so much irrelevance and accident – so much ‘dirt,’ as it were, and matter out of place...[A]lthough most philosophers seem either to forget [this notion] or to disdain it too much ever to mention it, I believe that we shall have to admit it to ourselves in the end as containing an element of truth” (James 2004, 123-124).
[51] James 1956, 90.
[52] James 1956, 56.
[53] See footnote 37.