{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_11/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_11","id":"wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_11","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy/Chapter_11","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CHAPTER XI.\n\nTHE POSSIBILITY OF ERROR.\n\nOn ne sert dignement la philosophie qu\u2019avec le m\u00eame feu qu\u2019on sent pour une ma\u00eetresse. \u2014 Rousseau, Nouvelle Helo\u00efse.\n\nWe have before us our theorem, and an outline\nof its proof. We are here to expand this argument.\nWe have some notion of the magnitude of the\nissues that are at stake. We had found ourselves\nbaffled in our search for a certainty by numerous\ndifficulties. We had found only one way remaining\nso far quite clear. That was the way of postulating\nwhat the moral consciousness seems to demand\nabout the world beyond experience. For many\nthinkers since Kant, that way has seemed in fact\nthe only one. They live in a world of action.\n\u201cDoubt,\u201d they say, \u201cclouds all theory. One must\nact as if the world were the supporter of our moral\ndemands. One must have faith. One must make\nthe grand effort, one must risk all for the sake of\nthe great prize. If the world is against us, still we\nwill not admit the fact until we are crushed. If the\ncold reality cares naught for our moral efforts, so be\nit when we come to know the fact, but meanwhile\nwe will act as if legions of angels were ready to\nsupport our demand for whatever not our selfish\ninterest, but the great interest of the Good, requires.\u201d Such is the view of the men whose religion is founded\nupon a Postulate.\n\nWe, too, felt that such faith is religious. We\nwere willing to accept it, if nothing better could be\nfound. But we were not content with it. Life has\nits unheroic days, when mere postulates fail us. At\nsuch times we grow weary of toiling, evil seems\nactually triumphant, and, worse than all, the sense\nthat there really is any perfect goodness yet\nunattained, that there is any worth or reason in our\nfight for goodness, seems to desert us. And then it\nwill indeed be well if we can get for ourselves something\nmore and better than mere postulates. If we\ncannot, we shall not seek to hide the fact. Better\neternal despondency than a deliberate lie about our\ndeepest thoughts and their meaning. If we are not\nhonest, at least in our philosophy, then are we wholly\nbase. To try once more is not dishonest.\n\nSo we did make the effort, and, in the last chapter,\nwe sketched a result that seemed nearly within\nour reach. An unexpected result this, because it\nsprings from the very heart of skepticism itself.\nWe doubted to the last extremity. We let everything\ngo, and then all of a sudden we seemed to find\nthat we could not lose one priceless treasure, try as\nwe would. Our wildest doubt assumed this, namely,\nthat error is possible. And so our wildest doubt\nassumed the actual existence of those conditions that\nmake error possible. The conditions that determine\nthe logical possibility of error must themselves be\nabsolute truth, that was the treasure that remained\nto us amid all our doubts. And how rich that treasure is, we dimly saw in the last discussion. That\ndim insight we must now try to make clearer. Perhaps\nour previous discussion has shown us that the\neffort is worth making.\n\nYet of one thing the reader shall be warned. The\npath that we travel is hereabouts very thorny and\nstony. It is a path of difficult philosophical\ninvestigation. Nobody ought to follow it who does not\ndesire to. We hope that the reader will skip the\nwhole of this chapter unless he wants to find even\nmore of dullness than the rest of this sleepy book\nhas discovered to him. For us, too, the arid way\nwould seem hard, were it not for the precious prize\nat the end of it.\n\nI.\n\nThe story of the following investigation shall first\nbe very briefly told. The author had long sought,\nespecially in the discussions of Kant\u2019s \u201cKritik,\u201d and\nin the books of the post-Kantians, for help in\nseeing the ultimate principles that lie at the basis of\nknowledge. He had found the old and well-known\ntroubles. Experience of itself can give no certainty\nabout general principles. We must therefore, said\nKant, bring our own principles with us to\nexperience. We know then of causation, because\ncausation is a fundamental principle of our thought,\nwhereby we set our experience to rights. And so\nlong as we think, we shall think into experience the\nconnection of cause and effect, which otherwise would\nnot be there. But hereupon the questions arose that\nhave so often been asked of Kant and the Kantians. Why just these principles and no others? \u201cThat\nis inexplicable,\u201d replies Kant. Very well, then,\nsuppose we give up applying to experience those\narbitrary principles of ours. Suppose we choose to\nstop thinking of experience as causally connected.\nWhat then? \u201cBut you cannot stop,\u201d says Kant,\n\u201cYour thought, being what it is, must follow this\none fashion forever.\u201d Nay, we reply, how knowest\nthou that, Master? Why may not our thought get\na new fashion some day? And then what is now\na necessary principle, for example, that every event\nhas a cause, would become unnecessary or even\nnonsensical. Do we then know a priori that our\na priori principles must always remain such? If so,\nhow come we by this new knowledge?\n\nSo Kant leaves us still uncertain about any\nfundamental principles upon which a sure knowledge\nof the world can be founded.\n\nLet us, then, examine a little deeper. Are there\nany certain judgments possible at all? If one is\nskeptical in a thorough-going way, as the author\ntried to be, he is apt to reach, through an effort to\nrevise Kant\u2019s view, a position something like the\nfollowing, \u2014 a provisional position of course, but one\nthat results from the effort to accept nothing\nwithout criticism: \u201cKant\u2019s result is that our judgments\nabout the real world are founded on an union of\nthought and sense, thought giving the appearance of\nnecessity to our judgment, sense giving the material.\nThe necessity of any judgment amounts then only to\nwhat may be summed up in the words: So the\npresent union of thought and sense makes things appear. If either thought or sense altered its\ncharacter, truth would alter. Hence every sincere\njudgment is indeed true for the moment in which it is\nmade, but not necessarily true for other moments.\nWe only postulate that it is true for other moments.\u201d\n\u201cAnd so,\u201d to continue this view, \u201cit is only by\nmeans of postulates that our thought even seems to\nhave any unity from moment to moment. We live\nin the present. If our thought has other truth or\nfalsity than this, we do not know it. Past and\nfuture exist not for this present. They are only\npostulated. Save as postulated, they have no present\nmeaning.\u201d\n\nWhen he held and expressed this view, the author\nis free to admit that he was not always clear whether\nhe ought to call it the doctrine of the relativity of\ntruth or not. It might have avoided the absurdities\nof total relativity by taking form as a doctrine that\nthe present moment\u2019s judgment is really true or\nfalse, for a real past and future, but that we, being\nlimited to present moments, can never compare our\njudgments with reality to find whether our\njudgments are true or false. But although this\ninterpretation is possible, this view often did express\nitself for the author as the doctrine of the total\nrelativity of truth. The latter doctrine to be sure has\nno real meaning, but the author used with many\nothers to fancy that it had.\n\nTo apply the view to the case of causal relations.\n\u201cWe continually postulate,\u201d the author used to\npoint out, \u201cwe demand, without being able to prove\nit, that nature in future shall be uniform.\u201d So, carrying out this thought, the author used to say: \"In fact future nature is not given to us, just as the past is not given to us. Sense-data and thought unite at every instant afresh to form a new judgment and a new postulate. Only in the present has any judgment evident validity. And our postulate of causal relation is just a way of looking at this world of conceived past and future data. Such postulates avoid being absurd efforts to regulate independent facts of sense, because, and only because, we have in experience no complete series of facts of sense at all, only from moment to moment single facts, about which we make single judgments. All the rest we must postulate or else do without them.\" Thus one reaches a skepticism as nearly complete as is possible to any one with earnest activity of thought in him. From moment to moment one can be sure of each moment. All else is postulate.\n\nFrom the depths of this imperfectly defined skepticism, which seemed to him provisionally the only view he could adopt, the author escaped only by asking the one question more: \"If everything beyond the present is doubtful, then how can even that doubt be possible?\" With this question that bare relativity of the present moment is given up. What are the conditions that make doubt logically intelligible? These conditions really transcend the present moment. Plainly doubt implies that the statement doubted may be false. So here we have at least one supposed general truth, namely, \"All but the immediate content of the present moment\u2019s judgment, being doubtful, we may be in error about it.\" But what then is an error? This becomes at once a\nproblem of exciting interest. Attacking it, the\nauthor was led through the wilderness of the following\nargument.\n\nII.\n\nYet before we undertake this special examination of the nature of error, the reader must pardon us for adding yet another explanatory word. The difficulty of the whole discussion will lie in the fact that we shall be studying the possibility of the plainest and most familiar of commonplaces. Common sense hates to do such things, because common sense thinks that the whole matter is sure from the outset. Common sense is willing to ask whether God exists, but unwilling to inquire how it is possible that there can exist an error about anything. But foreseeing that something is to follow from all this, we must beg common sense to be patient. We have not the shadow of doubt ourselves about the possibility of error. That is the steadfast rock on which we build. Our inquiry, ultra-skeptical as it may at moments seem, is into the question: How is the error possible? Or, in other words: What is an error? Now there can be little doubt that common sense is not ready with any general answer to such a question. Error is a word with many senses. By error we often mean just a statement that arouses our antipathy. Yet we all admit upon reflection, that our antipathy can neither make nor be used to define real error. Adam Smith declares, with common sense on his side, in his \u201cTheory of the Moral Sentiments,\u201d that: \u201cTo approve or disapprove of the opinions of\nothers is acknowledged, by everybody, to mean no\nmore than to observe their agreement or disagreement\nwith our own.\u201d Yet no one would accept as a\ndefinition of error the statement that: Error is any\nopinion that I personally do not like. Error has\nthus a very puzzling character. For common sense\nwill readily admit that if a statement is erroneous,\nit must appear erroneous to every \u201cright mind\u201d that\nis in possession of the facts. Hence the personal\ntaste of one man is not enough to define it. Else\nthere might be as many sorts of error as there are\nminds. It is only the \u201cright mind\u201d whose personal\ntaste shall decide what is an error in any particular\ncase. But what then is a normal mind? Who is the\nright-minded judge? There seems to be danger that\ncommon sense shall run at this point into an infinite\nregress. I say: That opinion is an error. What\ndo I mean? Do I mean that I do not like that\nopinion? Nay, I mean more. I mean that I ought\nnot to like or to accept it. Why ought I not?\nBecause the ideally right-minded person would not,\nseeing the given facts, hold that opinion about them.\nBut who is the ideally right-minded person? Well,\ncommon sense may answer. It is my ideal person,\nthe right-minded man as I conceive him. But why\nis my ideal the true ideal? Because I like it? \u2014\nNay, because, to the ideal judge, that kind of mind\nwould seem the ideal. But who is the ideal judge?\nAnd so common sense is driven from point to point,\nunable to get to anything definite.\n\nSo much, then, to show in general that common sense does not know what an error is, and needs\nmore light upon the subject. Let common sense not\ndisturb us, then, in our further search, by the\nconstant and indignant protest that error must somehow\nexist, and that doubt on that subject is nonsense.\nNobody has any doubts on that subject. We ask\nonly how error exists and how it can exist.\n\nFor the rest, what follows is not any effort to\ndemonstrate in fair and orderly array, from any one\nprinciple or axiom, what must be the nature of\nerror, but to use every and any device that may offer\nitself, general analysis, special example, comparison\nand contrast of cases, \u2014 anything that shall lead us\nto the insight into what an error is and implies.\nFor at last, immediate insight must decide.\n\nWe shall study our problem thus. We shall\ntake either some accepted definition of error, or\nsome special class of cases, and we shall ask: How\nis error in that case, or in accordance with that\ndefinition, possible? Since error plainly is possible in\nsome way, we shall have only to inquire: What are\nthe logical conditions that make it possible? We\nshall take up the ordinary suppositions that\ncommon sense seems to make about what here\ndetermines the possibility of error. We shall show that\nthese suppositions are inadequate. Then the result\nwill be that, on the ordinary suppositions, error\nwould be impossible. But that result would be\nabsurd, if these were the only possible suppositions.\nHence the ordinary suppositions must somehow be\nsupplemented. When, therefore, we seem to say in\nthe following that error is impossible, we shall mean only, impossible under the ordinary suppositions of\ncommon sense. What supplement we need to these\nsuppositions, our argument will show us. In sum\nwe shall find the state of the case to be this:\nCommon sense regards an assertion as true or as false\napart from any other assertion or thought, and solely\nin reference to its own object. For common sense\neach judgment, as a separate creation, stands out\nalone, looking at its object, and trying to agree with\nit. If it succeeds, we have truth. If the judgment\nfails, we have error. But, as we shall find, this view\nof common sense is unintelligible. A judgment\ncannot have an object and fail to agree therewith,\nunless this judgment is part of an organism of thought.\nAlone, as a separate fact, a judgment has no\nintelligible object beyond itself. And therefore the\npresuppositions of common sense must be supplemented\nor else abandoned. Either then there is no error,\nor else judgments are true or false only in reference\nto a higher inclusive thought, which they presuppose,\nand which must, in the last analysis, be assumed as\nInfinite and all-inclusive. This result we shall reach\nby no mystical insight, by no revelation, nor yet by\nany mere postulate such as we used in former\ndiscussions, but by a simple, dry analysis of the\nmeaning of our own thought.\n\nThe most formidable opponent of our argument\nwill be, after all, however, not common sense, but\nthat thought mentioned in the last chapter, \u2014 the\nthought that may try to content itself with\nsomewhat plausible jargon, and to say that: \u201cThere is\nno real difference between truth and error at all, only a kind of opinion or consensus of men about\na conventional distinction between what they choose\nto call truth and what they choose to call error.\u201d\nThis view, as the author has confessed, he once tried\nto hold. Still this meaningless doctrine of relativity\nis not the same as the view that contents itself\nwith the postulates before discussed. That view\nmight take, and for the author at one time did take,\nthe possible and intelligible form thus expressible:\n\u201cTruth and error, though really distinguishable,\nare for us distinguished only through our postulates,\nin so far as relates to past and future time.\u201d\nSuch views, while not denying that there is real\ntruth, despair of the attainability for us of more than\nmomentary truth. But the doctrine of Total\nRelativity, this view above expressed, differs from\ngenuine skepticism. It tries to put even skepticism to\nrest, by declaring the opinion, that there is error, to\nbe itself an error. This is not merely a moderate\nexpression of human limitations, but jargon, and\ntherefore formidable, because jargon is always\nunanswerable. When the famous Cretan declared all\nstatements made by Cretans to be in all cases lies,\nhis declaration was hard to refute, because it was\nsuch honest-seeming nonsense. Even so with the\nstatement that declares the very existence of error\nto be an erroneously believed fancy. No consensus\nof men can make an error erroneous. We can only\nfind or commit an error, not create it. When we\ncommit an error, we say what was an error already.\nIf our skeptical view in previous chapters seemed to\nregard truth and error as mere objects of our postulates, that was only because, to our skepticism, the\nreal truth, the real error, about any real past and\nfuture, seemed beyond our reach, so that we had\nto content ourselves with postulates. But that real\nerror exists is absolutely indubitable.\n\nThis being the case, it is evident that even the\nmost thorough-going skepticism is full of\nassumptions. If I say, \u201cThere may be no money in that\npurse yonder,\u201d I assume the existence of the purse\nyonder in order to make just that particular doubt\npossible. Of course, however, just that doubt may\nbe rendered meaningless by the discovery of the\nactual non-existence of that particular purse. If\nthere is no purse yonder, then it is nonsensical either\nto affirm or to deny that it contains money. And\nso if the purse of which I speak is an hallucination\nof mine, then the doubt about whether, as an\nactually existent purse, it has money in it, is deprived\nof sense. My real error in that case would lie in\nsupposing the purse itself to exist. If, however, I\nabandon the first doubt, and go on to doubt the real\nexistence of the purse, I equally assume a room, or\nsome other environment, or at all events the universe,\nas existent, in order to give sense to my question\nwhether the purse has any being in this environment\nor in this universe. But if I go yet further, and\ndoubt whether there is any universe at all outside of\nmy thought, what does my doubt yet mean? If it\nis to be a doubt with any real sense, it must be a\ndoubt still with an object before it. It seems then\nto imply an assumed order of being, in which there\nare at least two elements, my lonely thought about an universe, and an empty environment of this\nthought, in which there is, in fact, no universe.\nBut this empty environment, whose nature is such\nthat my thought does wrong to suppose it to be an\nuniverse, what is that? Surely if the doubt is to\nhave meaning, this idea needs further examination.\n\nThe absolute skepticism is thus full of assumptions.\nThe first European thinker who seems to have\ndiscussed our present problem was Plato, in a\ntoo-much-neglected passage of the \u201cThe\u00e6tetus,\u201d where\nSocrates, replying to the second definition of\nknowledge given by The\u00e6tetus, namely, knowledge is\nTrue Opinion, answers that his great difficulty has\noften been to see how any opinion can possibly be\nfalse. The conclusion reached by Plato is no very\ndefinite one, but the discussion is deeply suggestive.\nAnd we cannot do better here than to pray that the\nshade of the mighty Greek may deign to save us\nnow in our distress, and to show us the true nature\nof error.\n\nIII.\n\nLogicians are agreed that single ideas, thoughts viewed apart from judgments, are neither true nor false. Only a judgment can be false. And if a reasoning process is said to be false, the real error lies still in an actual or suppressed assertion. A fallacy is a false assertion that a certain conclusion follows from certain premises. Error is therefore generally defined as a judgment that does not agree with its object. In the erroneous judgment, subject and predicate are so combined as, in the object,\nthe corresponding elements are not combined. And\nthus the judgment comes to be false. Now, in this\ndefinition, nothing is doubtful or obscure save the\none thing, namely, the assumed relation between the\njudgment and its object. The definition assumes as\nquite clear that a judgment has an object, wherewith\nit can agree or not agree. And what is meant by\nthe agreement would not be obscure, if we could see\nwhat is meant by the object, and by the possession of\nthis object implied in the pronoun its. What then\nis meant by its object? The difficulties involved in\nthis phrase begin to appear as soon as you look\ncloser. First then the object of the assertion is as\nsuch supposed to be neither the subject nor the\npredicate thereof. It is external to the judgment. It\nhas a nature of its own. Furthermore, not all judgments\nhave the same object, so that objects are very\nnumerous. But from the infinity of real or of\npossible objects the judgment somehow picks out its\nown. Thus then for a judgment to have an object,\nthere must be something about the judgment that\nshows what one of the external objects that are\nbeyond itself this judgment does pick out as its own.\nBut this something that gives the judgment its\nobject can only be the intention wherewith the\njudgment is accompanied. A judgment has as object\nonly what it intends to have as object. It has to\nconform only to that to which it wants to conform.\nBut the essence of an intention is the knowledge of\nwhat one intends. One can, for instance, intend a\ndeed or any of its consequences only in so far as he foresees them. I cannot be said to intend the\naccidental or the remote or even the immediate\nconsequences of anything that I do, unless I foresaw that\nthey would follow; and this is true however much\nthe lawyers and judges may find it practically necessary\nto hold me responsible for these consequences.\nEven so we all find it practically useful to regard\none of our fellows as in error in case his assertions,\nas we understand them, seem to us to lead to\nconsequences that we do not approve. But our criticisms\nof his opinions, just like legal judgments of his acts,\nare not intended to be exact. Common sense will\nadmit that, unless a man is thinking of the object of\nwhich I suppose him to be thinking, he makes no\nreal error by merely failing to agree with the object\nthat I have in mind. If the knights in the fable\njudge each other to be wrong, that is because each\nknight takes the other\u2019s shield to be identical with\nthe shield as he himself has it in mind. In fact\nneither of them is in error, unless his assertion is\nfalse for the shield as he intended to make it his\nobject.\n\nSo then judgments err only by disagreeing with\ntheir intended objects, and they can intend an object\nonly in so far forth as this object is known to the\nthought that makes the judgment. Such, it would\nseem, is the consequence of the common-sense view.\nBut in this case a judgment can be in error only\nif it is knowingly in error. That also, as it seems,\nfollows from the common-sense suppositions. Or, if\nwe will have it in syllogistic form: \u2014\n\nEverything intended is something known. The object even of an erroneous judgment is intended.\n\u2234 The object even of an error is something known.\n\nOr: Only what is known can be erred about.\nNor can we yet be content with what common sense\nwill at once reply, namely, that our syllogism uses\nknown ambiguously, and that the object of an\nerroneous judgment is known enough to constitute it the\nobject, and not enough to prevent the error about it.\nThis must no doubt be the fact, but it is not of itself\nclear; on the contrary, just here is the problem. As\ncommon sense conceives the matter, the object of a\njudgment is not as such the whole outside world of\ncommon sense, with all its intimate interdependence\nof facts, with all its unity in the midst of diversity.\nOn the contrary, the object of any judgment is just\nthat portion of the then conceived world, just that\nfragment, that aspect, that element of a supposed\nreality, which is seized upon for the purposes of just\nthis judgment. Only such a momentarily grasped\nfragment of the truth can possibly be present in any\none moment of thought as the object of a single\nassertion. Now it is hard to say how within this\narbitrarily chosen fragment itself there can still be room\nfor the partial knowledge that is sufficient to give to\nthe judgment its object, but insufficient to secure to\nthe judgment its accuracy. If I aim at a mark with\nmy gun, I can fail to hit it, because choosing and\nhitting a mark are totally distinct acts. But, in the\njudgment, choosing and knowing the object seem\ninseparable. No doubt somehow our difficulty is\nsoluble, but we are here trying first to show that it is a\ndifficulty. To illustrate here by a familiar case, when we\nspeak of things that are solely matters of personal\npreference, such as the pleasure of a sleigh-ride, the\ntaste of olives, or the comfort of a given room, and\nwhen we only try to tell how these things appear to\nus, then plainly our judgments, if sincere, cannot be\nin error. As these things are to us, so they are.\nWe are their measure. To doubt our truthfulness\nin these cases is to doubt after the fashion of the\nstudent who wondered whether the star that the\nastronomers call Uranus may not be something else\nafter all, and not really Uranus. Surely science does\nnot progress very far or run into great danger of\nerror so long as it employs itself in discovering such\noccult mysteries as the names of the stars. But our\npresent question is, How do judgments that can be\nand that are erroneous differ in nature from these\nthat cannot be erroneous? If astronomers would be\nequally right in case they should agree to call\nUranus Humpty Dumpty, why are not all judgments\nequally favored? Since the judgment chooses its\nown object, and has it only in so far as it chooses it,\nhow can it be in that partial relation to its object\nwhich is implied in the supposition of an erroneous\nassertion?\n\nYet again, to illustrate the difficulty in another\naspect, we can note that not only is error impossible\nabout the perfectly well-known, but that error is\nequally impossible, save in the form of direct\nself-contradiction, about what is absolutely unknown.\nSpite of the religious awe of some people in presence\nof the Unknowable, it is safe to say, somewhat irreverently, that about a really Unknowable nobody\ncould make any sincere and self-consistent assertions\nthat could be errors. For self-consistent assertions\nabout the Unknowable would of necessity be\nmeaningless. And being meaningless, they could not well\nbe false. For instance, one could indeed not say\nthat the Unknowable contemplates war with France,\nor makes sunspots, or will be the next Presidential\ncandidate, because that would be contradicting one\u2019s\nself. For if the Unknowable did any of these things,\nit would no longer be the Unknowable, but would\nbecome either the known or the discoverable. But\navoid such self-contradiction, and you cannot err\nabout the Unknowable. For the Unknowable is\nsimply our old friend Abracadabra, a word that has no\nmeaning, and by hypothesis never can get any. So\nif I say that the Unknowable dines in vacuo with\nthe chimera, or is Humpty Dumpty, I talk nonsense,\nand am therefore unable to make a mistake.\nNonsense is error only when it involves self-contradiction.\nAvoid that, and nonsense cannot blunder, having no\nobject outside of itself with which it must agree.\nBut all this illustrates from the other side our\ndifficulty. Is not the object of a judgment, in so far as\nit is unknown to that judgment, like the Unknowables\nfor that judgment? To be in error about the\napplication of a symbol, you must have a symbol that\nsymbolizes something. But in so far as the thing\nsymbolized is not known through the symbol, how\nis it symbolized by that symbol? Is it not, like the\nUnknowable, once for all out of the thought, so that\none cannot just then be thinking about it at all, and so cannot, in this thought at least, be making blunders\nabout it? But in so far as the thing symbolized\nis, through the symbol, in one\u2019s thought, why is it\nnot known, and so correctly judged? All this\ninvolves that old question of the nature of symbols.\nThey are to mean for us more than we know that\nthey mean. How can that be? No doubt ail that\nis really possible, but how?\n\nIV.\n\nWe follow our difficulty into another department.\nLet us attempt a sort of provisional psychological\ndescription of a judgment as a state of mind. So\nregarded, a judgment is simply a fact that occurs in\nsomebody\u2019s thought. If we try to describe it as an\noccurrence, without asking whence it came, we shall\nperhaps find in it three elements, \u2014 elements which\nare in some fashion described in Ueberweg\u2019s\nwell-known definition of a judgment as the \u201cConsciousness\nabout the objective validity of a subjective\nunion of ideas.\u201d Our interpretation of them shall be\nthis: The elements are: The Subject, with the\naccompanying shade of curiosity about it; the\nPredicate, with the accompanying sense of its worth in\nsatisfying a part of our curiosity about the subject;\nand the Sense of Dependence, whereby we feel the\nvalue of this act to lie, not in itself, but in its\nagreement with a vaguely felt Beyond, that stands out\nthere as Object.\n\nNow this analysis of the elements of a judgment is\nno explanation of our difficulties; and in fact for the moment only embarrasses us more. But the\nnature of the difficulty may come home to us somewhat\nmore clearly, if we try to follow the thread of this\nanalysis a little further. Even if it is a very\nimperfect account, it may serve to lead us up to the true\ninsight that we seek into the nature of error. Let\nus make the analysis a little more detailed.\n\nIn its typical form then, the judgment as a mental\nstate seems to us to begin with a relatively\nincomplete or unstable or disconnected mass of\nconsciousness, which we have called the Subject, as it first\nbegins to be present to us. This subject-idea is\nattended by some degree of effort, namely, of attention,\nwhose tendency is to complete this incomplete\nsubject by bringing it into closer connection with\nmore familiar mental life. This more familiar life is\nrepresented by the predicate-idea. If the effort is\nsuccessful, the subject has new elements united to it,\nassumes in consciousness a definiteness, a coherency\nwith other states, a familiarity, which it lacked at the\noutset of the act of judgment; and this coherency it\ngets through its union with the predicate. All this\nis accompanied further by what one for short may\ncall a sense of dependence. The judgment feels\nitself not alone, but looks to a somewhat indefinite\nobject as the model after which the present union of\nideas is to be fashioned. And in this way we\nexplain how the judgment is, in those words of\nUeberweg\u2019s definition, \u201cthe consciousness about the\nobjective validity of a subjective union of ideas.\u201d\n\nNow as a mere completion of subject-idea through\nthe addition of a predicate-idea, the judgment is simply a mental phenomenon, having interest only to\nthe person that experiences it, and to a psychologist.\nBut as true or as false the judgment must be viewed\nin respect to the indefinite object of what we have\ncalled the sense of dependence, whereby the\njudgment is accompanied. Seldom in any ordinary\njudgment does this object become perfectly full and\nclear; for to make it so would often require many,\nperhaps an infinite, series of judgments. Yet, for the\none judgment, the object, whether full and clear or\nnot, exists as object only in so far forth as the sense\nof dependence has defined it. And the judgment is\ntrue or false only with reference to this undefined\nobject. The intention to agree with the object is\ncontained in the sense of dependence upon the object,\nand remains for this judgment incomplete, like the\nobject itself. Somewhat vaguely this single act\nintends to agree with this vague object.\n\nSuch being the case, how can the judgment, as\nthus described, fairly be called false? As mere\npsychological combination of ideas it is neither true nor\nfalse. As accompanied by the sense of dependence\nupon an object, it would be false if it disagreed with\nits imperfectly defined object. But, as described,\nthe only object that the judgment has is this\nimperfectly defined one. With this, in so far as it is for\nthe moment defined, the judgment must needs agree.\nIn so far as it is not defined, it is however not object\nfor this judgment at all, but for some other one.\nWhat the imperfect sense of dependence would\nfurther imply if it existed in a complete instead of in\nan incomplete state, nobody can tell, any more than one can tell what towns would grow up by a given\nrain-pool, if it were no pool, but a great lake. The\nobject of a single judgment, being what it is, namely,\na vaguely defined object, present to this judgment, is\njust what it is for this judgment, and the judgment\nseems once for all to be true, in case it is sincere.\n\nSome one may here at once answer that we neglect\nin this description the close interdependence of\nvarious judgments. Thought, some one may say, is\nan organic unity. Separated from all else but its\nown incompletely defined object, a single judgment\ncannot be erroneous. Only in the organic unity of\na series of judgments, having a common object, is\nthe error of one of them possible. We reply that\nall this will turn out to be just our result. But the\nusual supposition at the outset is that any judgment\nhas by itself its own object, so that thereby alone,\napart from other judgments, it stands or falls. And\nthus far we have tried to show that this natural\nsupposition leads us into difficulty. We cannot see\nhow a single sincere judgment should possibly fail\nto agree with its own chosen object. But enough of\nour problem in general. We must consider certain\nclasses of errors more in detail. Let us see how, in\nthese special classes of cases, we shall succeed in\nverifying the natural presupposition of common sense,\nwhich regards error as possible only when our object\nis not wholly present to mind, and which assumes\nthat a judgment can have an object that is yet only\npartially present to mind. In choosing the classes of\ncases, we shall first follow common sense as to their\ndefinition. We shall take just the assumptions of daily life, and shall show that they lead us into\ndifficulty. We are not for the first bound to explain\nwhy these assumptions are made. That common\nsense makes them is enough.\n\nBut let the reader remember: The whole value of\nour argument lies in its perfect generality. However\nmuch we dwell on particular classes of errors,\nwe care nothing for the proof that just those errors\nare inexplicable, but only for the fact that they\nillustrate how, without some entirely new hypothesis,\nabsolutely all error becomes impossible. This or\nthat class of judgments may be one in which all the\njudgments are relative, but the total relativity of\nour thought implies an incomprehensible and\ncontradictory state of things. Any hypothesis about error\nthat makes total relativity the only admissible view,\nmust therefore give place to some new hypothesis.\nAnd our illustrations in the following are intended\nto show that just what constitutes the difficulty in\nrespect of these illustrations, makes the existence of\nany error inexplicable without some new hypothesis.\n\nV.\n\nThe class of errors that we shall first take seems,\nto common sense, common enough. It is the class\nknown as errors about our neighbor\u2019s states of mind.\nLet us then, for argument\u2019s sake, assume without\nproof that our neighbors do exist. For we are not\nhere concerned to answer Solipsism, but merely to\nexemplify the difficulties about the nature of error.\nIf our neighbors did not exist, then the nature of the error that would lie in saying that they do exist\nwould present almost exactly the same difficulties.\nWe prefer, however, to begin with the common-sense\nassumption about ourselves and our neighbors as\nseparate individuals, and to ask how error can then\narise in judging of our neighbors\u2019 minds.\n\nIn the first place then: Who is my neighbor?\nSurely, on the assumptions that we all make, and\nthat we made all through the ethical part of our\ndiscussion, he is no one of my thoughts, nor is any part\nof him ever any part of my thought. He is not my\nobject, but, in Professor Clifford\u2019s phrase, an \u201ceject,\u201d\nwholly outside of my ideas. He is no \u201cthing in my\ndream,\u201d just as I am not in his dream.\n\nYet I make judgments about him, and he makes\nthem about me. And when I make judgments about\nhim, I do so by having in my thought some set of my\nown ideas that, although not himself, do yet, as I\nsay, represent him. A kind of dummy, a symbol, a\ngraven image of my own thought\u2019s creation, a\nphantom of mine, stands there in me as the representative\nof his mind; and all I say about my neighbor\u2019s\ninner life refers directly to this representative. The\nScottish philosophy has had much to say to the world\nabout what it calls direct or presentative, as opposed\nto representative, knowledge of objects. But surely\nthe most obstinate Scottish philosopher that ever ate\noatmeal cannot hold so tenaciously by his national\ndoctrine as to say that I have, according to common\nsense, anything but a representative knowledge of\nmy neighbor\u2019s thoughts and feelings. That is the\nonly sort of knowledge that common sense will regard as possible to me, if so much as that is possible.\nBut bow I can know about this outside being is not\nnow our concern. We notice only that our difficulty\nabout error comes back to us in a new form. For\nbow can I err about my neighbor, since, for this\ncommon-sense view, he is not even partly in my thoughts?\nHow can I intend that as the object of my thought\nwhich never can be object for me at all?\n\nBut not everybody will at once feel the force of\nthis question. We must be more explicit. Let us\ntake the now so familiar suggestion of our great\nhumorist about the six people that take part in every\nconversation between two persons. If John and\nThomas are talking together, then the real John and\nThomas, their respective ideas of themselves, and\ntheir ideas of each other, are all parties to the\nconversation. Let us consider four of these persons,\nnamely, the real John, the real Thomas, John as\nThomas conceives him, and Thomas as John\nconceives him. When John judges, of whom does he\nthink? Plainly of that which can be an object to\nhis thoughts, namely, of his Thomas. About whom\nthen can he err? About his Thomas? No, for he\nknows him too well. His conception of Thomas is\nhis conception, and what he asserts it to be, that it\nis for him. About the real Thomas? No, for it\nshould seem, according to common sense, that he has\nnothing to do with the real Thomas in his thought,\nsince that Thomas never becomes any part of his\nthought at all. \u201cBut,\u201d says one, \u201cthere must be\nsome fallacy here, since we are sure that John can\nerr about the real Thomas.\u201d Indeed he can, say we; but ours is not this fallacy. Common sense has\nmade it. Common sense has said: \u201cThomas never\nis in John\u2019s thought, and yet John can blunder\nabout Thomas.\u201d How shall we unravel the knot?\n\nOne way suggests itself. Mayhap we have been\ntoo narrow in our definition of object. Common\nsense surely insists that objects are outside of our\nthought. If, then, I have a judgment, and another\nbeing sees both my judgment and some outside\nobject that was not in my thought, and sees how that\nthought is unlike the object in some critical respect,\nthis being could say that my assertion was an error.\nSo then with John and Thomas. If Thomas could\nknow John\u2019s thoughts about him, then Thomas could\npossibly see John\u2019s error. That is what is meant\nby the error in John\u2019s thought.\n\nBut mere disagreement of a thought with any\nrandom object does not make the thought erroneous.\nThe judgment must disagree with its chosen object.\nIf John never has Thomas in thought at all, how\ncan John choose the real Thomas as his object? If\nI judge about a penholder that is in this room, and\nif the next room is in all respects like this, save for\na penholder in it, with which my assertion does not\nagree, who, looking at that penholder in that other\nroom, can say that my judgment is false? For I\nmeant not that penholder when I spoke, but this\none. I knew perhaps nothing about that one, had\nit not in mind, and so could not err about it. Even\nso, suppose that outside of John there is a real\nThomas, similar, as it happens, to John\u2019s ideal\nThomas, but lacking some thought or affection that John attributes to his ideal Thomas. Does that\nmake John\u2019s notion an error? No, for he spoke and\ncould speak only of his ideal Thomas. The real\nThomas was the other room, that he knew not of,\nthe other side of the shield, that he never could\nconceive. His Thomas was his phantom Thomas. This\nphantom it is that he judges and thinks about, and\nhis thoughts may have their own consistency or\ninconsistency. But with the real other person they\nhave nothing to do. The real other is not his\nobject, and how can he err about what is not object\nfor him?\n\nAbsurd, indeed, some one will reply to us. John\nand Thomas have to deal with representative\nphantoms of each other, to be sure; but that only makes\neach more apt to err about the real other. And the\ntest that they can err is a very simple one. Suppose\na spectator, a third person, to whom John and\nThomas were both somehow directly present, so that\nhe as it were included both of them. Then John\u2019s\njudgment of his phantom Thomas would be by this\nspectator at once compared with the real Thomas,\nand even so would Thomas\u2019s judgment of John be\ntreated. If now John\u2019s phantom Thomas agreed\nwith the real Thomas, then John\u2019s ideas would be\ndeclared in so far truthful; otherwise they would be\nerroneous. And this explains what is meant by\nJohn\u2019s power to err about Thomas.\n\nThe explanation is fair enough for its own purpose,\nand we shall need it again before long. But\njust now we cannot be content with it. For what\nwe want to know is not what the judgment of a third thinker would be in case these two were\nsomehow not independent beings at all, but things in\nthis third being\u2019s thought. For we have started out\nwith the supposition of common sense that John\nand Thomas are not dreams or thoughts of some\nhigher third being, but that they are independent\nbeings by themselves. Our supposition may have\nto be given up hereafter, but for the present we\nwant to hold fast to it. And so John\u2019s judgment,\nwhich we had supposed to be about the independently\nexisting Thomas, has now turned out to be\nonly a judgment about John\u2019s idea of Thomas. But\njudgments are false only in case they disagree with\ntheir intended objects. What, however, is the\nobject of John\u2019s judgment when he thinks about\nThomas? Not the real Thomas, who could not\npossibly be an object in another man\u2019s thoughts. John\u2019s\nreal object being an ideal Thomas, he cannot, if\nsincere, and if fully conscious of what he means by\nThomas, fail to agree in his statements with his own\nideal. In short, on this our original supposition,\nJohn and Thomas are independent entities, each of\nwhich cannot possibly enter in real person into the\nthoughts of the other. Each may be somehow\nrepresented in the other\u2019s thoughts by a phantom, and\nonly this phantom can be intended by the other\nwhen he judges about the first. For unless one talks\nnonsense, it should seem as if one could mean only\nwhat one has in mind.\n\nThus, like the characters in a certain Bab ballad,\nreal John, real Thomas, the people in this simple\ntale, are total strangers to each other. You might as well ask a blind man to make true or false\njudgments about the real effects of certain combinations\nof colors, as to ask either John or Thomas, defined\nas common sense defines them, to make any\njudgments about each other. Common sense will assert\nthat a blind man can learn and repeat verbally\ncorrect statements about color, or verbally false\nstatements about color, but, according to the common-sense\nview, in no case can he err about color-ideas\nas such, which are never present to him. You will\nbe quite ready to say that a dog can make mistakes\nabout the odors of the numberless tracks on the\nhighway. You will assure us, however, that you\ncannot make mistakes about them because these\nodors do not exist for you. According to the\ncommon-sense view, a mathematician can make blunders\nin demonstrating the properties of equations. A\nBushman cannot, for he can have no ideas corresponding\nto equations. But how then can John or Thomas\nmake errors about each other, when neither is more\npresent to the other than is color to the blind man,\nthe odor of the tracks on the highway to the dog\u2019s\nmaster, or the idea of an equation to a Bushman?\nHere common sense forsakes us, assuring us that\nthere is such error, but refusing to define it.\n\nThe inconsistency involved in all this common-sense\nview, and the consequences of the inconsistency,\nwill appear yet better with yet further illustration.\nA dream is false in so far as it contains the judgment\nthat such and such things exist apart from us; but\nat least in so far as we merely assert in our dreams\nabout the objects as we conceive them, we make true assertions. But is not our actual life of assertions\nabout actual fellow-beings much like a dream to\nwhich there should happen to correspond some real\nscene or event in the world? Such correspondence\nwould not make the dream really \u201ctrue,\u201d nor yet\nfalse. It would be a coincidence, remarkable for an\noutside observer, but none the less would the dreamer\nbe thinking in his dream not about external objects,\nbut about the things in his dream. But is not our\nsupposed Thomas so and only so in the thought of\nJohn as he would be if John chanced to dream of\na Thomas that was, to an external spectator, like the\nreal one? Is not then the phantom Thomas, John\u2019s\nonly direct object, actually a thing in John\u2019s thought?\nIs then the independent Thomas an object for John\nin any sense?\n\nYet again. Let us suppose that two men are shut\nup, each in a closed room by himself, and for his\nwhole life; and let us suppose that by a lantern\ncontrivance each of them is able at times to produce on\nthe wall of the other\u2019s room a series of pictures.\nBut neither of them can ever know what pictures he\nproduces in the other\u2019s room, and neither can know\nanything of the other\u2019s room, as such, but only of\nthe pictures. Let the two remain forever in this\nrelation. One of them. A, sees on his wall pictures,\nwhich resemble more or less what he has seen in his\nown room at other times. Yet he perceives these to\nbe only pictures, and he supposes them to represent\nwhat goes on in another room, which he conceives as\nlike his own. He is interested, he examines the\nphenomena, he predicts their future changes, he passes judgment upon them. He may, if you like to\ncontinue the hypothesis, find some way of affecting\nthem, by himself acting in a way mysterious to\nhimself so as to produce changes in B\u2019s actual room,\nwhich again affect the pictures that the real B\nproduces in A\u2019s room. Thus A might hold what he\nwould call communication with his phantom room.\nEven so, B lives with pictures before him that are\nproduced from A\u2019s room. Now one more supposition,\nnamely, that A and B have absolutely no other\nmeans of communication, that both are shut up\naltogether and always have been, that neither has any\nobjects before him but his own thoughts and the\nchanging pictures on the wall of his room. In this\ncase what difference does it make whether or no the\npictures in A\u2019s room are actually like the things\nthat could be seen in B\u2019s room? Will that make\nA\u2019s judgments either true or false? Even if A,\nacting by means that he himself cannot understand,\nis able to control the pictures on his wall by some\nalteration that he unconsciously produces in B\u2019s\nroom and its pictures, still A cannot be said to have\nany knowledge of the real B and his room at all.\nAnd, for the same reason, A cannot make mistakes\nabout the real room of B, for he will never even\nthink of that real room. He will, like a man in a\ndream, think and be able to think only of the\npictures on his wall. And when he refers them to an\noutside cause, he does not mean by this cause the real\nB and his real room, for he has never dreamed of the\nreal B, but only of the pictures and of his own\ninterpretation of them. He can therefore make no false judgments about B\u2019s room, any more than a Bushman\ncan make false judgments about the integral calculus.\n\nIf to our present world there does correspond a\nsecond world somewhere off in space, a world exactly\nlike this, where just the same events at every instant\ndo actually take place, still the judgments that we\nmake about our world are not actually true or false\nwith reference to that world, for we mean this world,\nnot that one, when we judge. Why are not John\u2019s\nThomas and the real Thomas related like this world\nand that second world in distant space? Why are\nnot both like the relation of A\u2019s conceived phantom\nroom and B\u2019s real room? Nothing of either real\nroom is ever present to the other. Each prisoner\ncan make true or false judgments if at all, then,\nonly about the pictures on his wall; but neither\nhas even the suggestion that could lead him to make\na blunder about the other\u2019s real room, of which he\nhas and can have not the faintest idea.\n\nOne reason why we fail to see at once this fact\nlies in the constant tendency to regard the matter\nfrom the point of view of a third person, instead of\nfrom the point of view that we still implicitly\nattribute to A and B themselves. If A could get outside\nof his room once and see B\u2019s room, then he could\nsay: \u201cMy picture was a good one,\u201d or the reverse.\nBut, in the supposed case, he not only never sees B\u2019s\nroom, but he never sees anything but his own\npictures, never gets out of his room at all for any\npurpose. Hence, his sole objects of assertion being his\npictures, he is innocent of any power to err about\nB\u2019s room as it is in itself, even as the man born blind is innocent of any power to err about the relations\nof colors.\n\nNow this relation of A and B, as they were\nsupposed to dwell in their perpetual imprisonment, is\nessentially like the relation that we previously\npostulated between two independent subjects. If I\ncannot have you in my thought at all, but only a picture\nproduced by you, I am in respect to you like A\nconfined to the pictures produced from B\u2019s room.\nHowever much I may fancy that I am talking of you, I\nam really talking about my idea of you, which for\nme can have no relation whatever to the real you.\nAnd so John and Thomas remain shut up in their\nprisons. Each thinks of his phantom of the other.\nOnly a third person, who included them both, who\nin fact treated them as, in the Faust-Epilogue, the\nPater Seraphicus treats the selige Knaben (Er\nnimmt sie in sich, says the stage direction) \u2014 only\nsuch an inclusive thought could compare the\nphantoms with the real, and only in him, not in\nthemselves, would John and Thomas have any ideas of\neach other at all, true or false.\n\nThis result is foreign to our every-day thought,\nbecause this every-day thought really makes innocent\nuse of two contradictory views of the relations of\nconscious beings. On the one hand we regard them\nas utterly remote from one another, as what\nProfessor Clifford called ejects; and then we speak of\nthem as if the thoughts of one could as such become\nthoughts of the other, or even as if one of them\ncould as an independent being still become object\nin the thought of the other. No wonder that, with such contradictory assumptions as to the nature of\nour relations to our neighbors, we find it very easy\nto make absurd statements about the meaning of\nerror. The contradiction of common sense has in\nfact just here much to do with the ethical illusion\nthat we called the illusion of selfishness. To clear\nup this point will be useful to us, therefore, in more\nways than one.\n\nVI.\n\nDisappointed once more in our efforts to understand\nhow error is possible, we turn to another class\nof cases, which lie in a direction where, at least for\nthis once, all will surely be plain. Errors about\nmatters of fact or experience are certainly clear\nenough in nature. And as this class of errors is\npractically most important, the subtleties of our\nprevious investigation may be dismissed with light heart\nso soon as we have gotten rid of the few little\nquestions that will now beset us. It is to be noted that\nall errors about material objects, about the laws\nof nature, about history, and about the future, are\nalike errors about our actual or possible experiences.\nWe expect or postulate an experience that at the\ngiven time, or under the given conditions, turns out\nto be other than it was postulated or expected to be.\nNow since our experiences not now present are\nobjective facts, and capable of clear definition, it would\nseem clear that error concerning them is an easily\ncomprehensible thing.\n\nBut alas! again we are disappointed. That errors\nin matters of experience are common enough is indubitable, but equally evident becomes the\ndifficulty of defining what they are and how they are\npossible. Take the case of error about an expected\nfuture. What do we mean by a future time? How\ndo we identify a particular time? Both these\nquestions plunge us into the sea of problems about the\nnature of time itself. When I say, Thus and so\nwill it be at such and such a future moment, I\npostulate certain realities not now given to my\nconsciousness. And singular realities they are. For\nthey have now no existence at all. Yet I postulate\nthat I can err about them. This their non-existence\nis a peculiar kind of non-existence, and requires me\nto make just such and such affirmations about it.\nIf I fail to correspond to the true nature of this\nnon-existent reality, I make an error; and it is\npostulated not merely that my present statement will\nin that case hereafter turn out false or become false,\nbut also that it is now false, is at this moment an\nerror, even though the reality with which it is to\nagree is centuries off in the future. But this is not\nall the difficulty. I postulate also that an error in\nprediction can be discovered when the time comes\nby the failure of the prediction to verify itself. I\npostulate then that I can look back and say: Thus\nand thus I predicted about this moment, and thus\nand thus it has come to pass, and this event\ncontradicts that expectation. But can I in fact ever\naccomplish this comparison at all? And is the\ncomparison very easily intelligible? For when the event\ncomes to pass, the expectation no longer exists. The\ntwo thoughts, namely, expectation and actual experience, are separate thoughts, far apart in time.\nHow can I bring them together to compare them, so\nas to see if they have the same object? It will not\ndo to appeal to memory for the purpose; for the\nsame question would recur about the memory in its\nrelation to the original thought. How can a past\nthought, being past, be compared to a present thought\nto see whether they stand related? The past thought\nlived in itself, had its own ideas of what it then\ncalled future, and its own interpretation thereof.\nHow can you show, or intelligently affirm, that the\nconception which the past expectation had of its\nfuture moment is so identical with the conception\nwhich this present thought has of this present\nmoment, as to make these two conceived moments one\nand the same? Here in short we have supposed two\ndifferent ideas, one of an expected future, the other\nof an experienced present, and we have supposed\nthe two ideas to be widely separated in time, and by\nhypothesis they are not together in one consciousness\nat all. Now how can one say that in fact they relate\nto the same moment at all? How is it intelligible\nto say that they do? How, in fine, can a not-given\nfuture be a real object of any thought; and how,\nwhen it is once the object thereof, can any\nsubsequent moment be identified with this object?\n\nA present thought and a past thought are in fact\nseparate, even as were John and Thomas. Each\none means the object that it thinks. How can they\nhave a common object? Are they not once for all\ndifferent thoughts, each with its own intent? But\nin order to render intelligible the existence of error about matters of fact, we must make the unintelligible\nassumption, so it would seem, that these two\ndifferent thoughts have the same intent, and are but\none. And such is the difficulty that we find in our\nsecond great class of cases.\n\nVII.\n\nSo much for the problem, both in general and in\nsome particular instances. But now may not the\nreader insist, after all, that there can be in this wise\nno errors whatever? Contradictory as it seems, have\nwe not, after all, put our judgments into a position\nwhence escape for us is impossible? If every\njudgment is thus by its nature bound up in a closed\ncircle of thought, with no outlook, can any one come\nafterwards and give it an external object? Perhaps,\nthen, there is a way out of our difficulty by frankly\nsaying that our thoughts may be neither truths nor\nerrors beyond themselves, but just occurrences, with\na meaning wholly subjective.\n\nWe desire the reader to try to realize this view of\ntotal relativity once more in the form in which, with\nall its inherent absurdities, it now comes back to us\nfor the last time. It says, \u201cEvery judgment, A is\nB. in fact does agree and can agree only with its\nown object, which is present in mind when it is made.\nWith no external object can it agree or fail to agree.\nIt stands alone, with its own object. It has neither\ntruth nor error beyond itself. It fulfills all its\nintentions, and is true, if it agrees with what was present\nto it when it was thought. Only in this sense is\nthere any truth or falsity possible for our thought.\u201d But once more, this inviting way out of the\ndifficulty needs only to be tried to reveal its own\ncontradictions. The thought that says, \u201cNo judgment is\ntrue beyond itself,\u201d is that thought true beyond\nitself or not? If it is true beyond itself, then we have\nthe possibility of other truth than the merely\nsubjective or relative truth. If it is false, then equally we\nhave objective falsity. If it is neither true nor false,\nthen the doctrine of relativity has not been affirmed\nat all as a truth. One sets up an idea of a world of\nseparate, disorganized thoughts, and then says, \u201cEach\nof them deals only with its own object, and they have\nno unity that could make them true or false.\u201d But\nstill this world that one thus sets up must be the\ntrue world. Else is there no meaning in the\ndoctrine of relativity. Twist as one will, one gets not\nout of the whirlpool of thought. Error must be real,\nand yet, as common sense arranges these judgments\nand their relations to one another, error cannot be\nreal. There is so far no escape.\n\nThe perfectly general character of the argument\nmust be understood. One might escape it if it\napplied to any one class of errors only. Then one\nwould say: \u201cIn fact, the class of cases in question\nmay be cases that exclude the possibility of both\ntruth and error.\u201d But no, that cannot be urged\nagainst us, for our argument applies equally to all\npossible errors. In short, either no error at all is\npossible, or else there must be possible an infinite\nmass of error. For the possibilities of thought being\ninfinite, either all thought is excluded once for all\nfrom the possibility of error, or else to every possible truth there can be opposed an infinite mass of\nerror. All this infinite mass is at stake upon the\nissue of our investigation. Total relativity, or else\nan infinite possibility of truth and error; that is\nthe alternative before us. And total relativity of\nthought involves self-contradiction.\n\nEvery way but one has been tried to lead us out\nof our difficulty. Shall we now give up the whole\nmatter, and say that error plainly exists, but baffles\ndefinition? This way may please most people, but\nthe critical philosophy knows of no unanswerable\nproblem affecting the work of thought in itself\nconsidered. Here we need only patience and reflection,\nand we are sure to be some day rewarded. And\nindeed our solution is not far off, but very nigh us.\nWe have indicated it all along. To explain how\none could be in error about his neighbor\u2019s thoughts,\nwe suggested the case where John and Thomas\nshould be present to a third thinker whose thought\nshould include them both. We objected to this\nsuggestion that thus the natural presupposition that John\nand Thomas are separate self-existent beings would\nbe contradicted. But on this natural presupposition\nneither of these two subjects could become object to\nthe other at all, and error would here be impossible.\nSuppose then that we drop the natural presupposition,\nand say that John and Thomas are both\nactually present to and included in a third and higher\nthought. To explain the possibility of error about\nmatters of fact seemed hard, because of the natural\npostulate that time is a pure succession of separate\nmoments, so that the future is now as future nonexistent, and so that judgments about the future lack\nreal objects, capable of identification. Let us then\ndrop this natural postulate, and declare time once\nfor all present in all its moments to an universal\nall-inclusive thought. And to sum up, let us\novercome all our difficulties by declaring that all the\nmany Beyonds, which single significant judgments\nseem vaguely and separately to postulate, are\npresent as fully realized intended objects to the unity\nof an all-inclusive, absolutely clear, universal, and\nconscious thought, of which all judgments, true or\nfalse, are but fragments, the whole being at once\nAbsolute Truth and Absolute Knowledge. Then all\nour puzzles will disappear at a stroke, and error will\nbe possible, because any one finite thought, viewed\nin relation to its own intent, may or may not be seen\nby this higher thought as successful and adequate in\nthis intent.\n\nHow this absolute thought is to be related to\nindividual thoughts, we can in general very simply\ndefine. When one says: \u201cThis color now before me\nis red, and to say that it is blue would be to make a\nblunder,\u201d one represents an including consciousness.\nOne includes in one\u2019s present thought three distinct\nelements, and has them present in the unity of a\nsingle moment of insight. These elements are, first,\nthe perception of red; secondly, the reflective\njudgment whose object is this perception, and whose\nagreement with the object constitutes its own truth;\nand, thirdly, the erroneous reflection, This is blue,\nwhich is in the same thought compared with the\nperception and rejected as error. Now, viewed as separate acts of thought, apart from the unity of an\nincluding thought, these three elements would give rise\nto the same puzzles that we have been considering.\nIt is their presence in a higher and inclusive thought\nthat makes their relations plain. Even so we must\nconceive the relation of John\u2019s thought to the united\ntotal of thought that includes him and Thomas.\nReal John and his phantom Thomas, real Thomas\nand his phantom John, are all present as elements in\nthe including consciousness, which completes the\nincomplete intentions of both the individuals,\nconstitutes their true relations, and gives the thought\nof each about the other whatever of truth or of\nerror it possesses. In short, error becomes possible\nas one moment or element in a higher truth, that\nis, in a consciousness that makes the error a part of\nitself, while recognizing it as error.\n\nSo far then we propose this as a possible solution\nfor our puzzles. But now we may insist upon it as\nthe only possible solution. Either there is no such\nthing as error, which statement is a flat self-contradiction,\nor else there is an infinite unity of conscious\nthought to which is present all possible truth. For\nsuppose that there is error. Then there must be an\ninfinite mass of error possible. If error is possible\nat all, then as many errors are possible as you please,\nsince, to every truth, an indefinite mass of error may\nbe opposed. Nor is this mere possibility enough.\nAn error is possible for us when we are able to make\na false judgment. But in order that the judgment\nshould be false when made, it must have been false\nbefore it was made. An error is possible only when the judgment in which the error is to be expressed\nalways was false. Error, if possible, is then\neternally actual. Each error so possible implies a\njudgment whose intended object is beyond itself, and is\nalso the object of the corresponding true judgment.\nBut two judgments cannot have the same object save\nas they are both present to one thought. For as\nseparate thoughts they would have separate\nsubjects, predicates, intentions, and objects, even as we\nhave previously seen in detail. So that every error\nimplies a thought that includes it and the\ncorresponding truth in the unity of one thought with the\nobject of both of them. Only as present to an\nincluding thought are they either true or false. Thus\nthen we are driven to assume an infinite thought,\njudging truth and error. But that this infinite\nthought must also be a rational unity, not a mere\naggregate of truths, is evident from the fact that\nerror is possible not only as to objects, but as to the\nrelations of objects, so that all the possible relations\nof all the objects in space, in time, or in the world\nof the barely possible, must also be present to the\nall-including thought. And to know all relations at\nonce is to know them in absolute rational unity, as\nforming in their wholeness one single thought.\n\nWhat, then, is an error? An error, we reply, is\nan incomplete thought, that to a higher thought,\nwhich includes it and its intended object, is known\nas having failed in the purpose that it more or less\nclearly had, and that is fully realized in this higher\nthought. And without such higher inclusive thought,\n\nan assertion has no external object, and is no error.\nVIII.\n\nIf our argument were a Platonic dialogue, there\nwould be hereabouts an interruption from some\nimpatient Thrasymachus or Callicles or Polus, who\nwould have been watching us, threatening and\nmuttering, during aU of the latter part of our discussion.\nAt last, perhaps, \u03c3\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c8\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03b8\u03b7\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03bd, he\nwould spring upon us, and would say: \u201cWhy, you\nnonsense-mongers, have you not bethought you of\nthe alternative that represents the reality in this\nquestion of yours? Namely, an error is an error,\nneither to the thought that thinks it, nor of necessity\nto any higher inclusive thought, but only to a possible\ncritical thought that should undertake afterwards\nto compare it with its object. An error is a thought\nsuch that if a critical thought did come and compare\nit with its object, it would be seen to be false. And\nit has an object for such a critical thought. This\ncritical thought need not be real and actually include\nit, but may be only a possible judge of its truth.\nHence your Infinite all-knower is no reality, only a\nlogical possibility; and your insight amounts to this,\nthat if all were known to an all-knower, he would\njudge error to be mistaken. And so error is what\nhe would perceive to be error. What does all that\namount to but worthless tautology?\u201d\n\nThis argument of our Thrasymachus is the only\noutwardly plausible objection that we fear to the\nforegoing analysis, because it is the only objection\nthat fully expresses the old-established view of\ncommon sense about such problems. Though common sense never formulates our present difficulty,\ncommon sense still dimly feels that to some possible\n(not actual) judge of truth, appeal is made when\nwe say that a thing is false not merely for us, but\nin very truth. And this possible judge of common\nsense we have now unhesitatingly declared to be an\nInfinite Actuality, absolutely necessary to constitute\nthe relation of truth and error. Without it there\nis for our view no truth or error conceivable. The\nwords, This is true, or This is false, mean nothing,\nwe declare, unless there is the inclusive thought for\nwhich the truth is true, the falsehood false. No\nbarely possible judge, who would see the error if he\nwere there, will do for us. He must be there, this\njudge, to constitute the error. Without him nothing\nbut total subjectivity would be possible; and thought\nwould then become purely a pathological phenomenon,\nan occurrence without truthfulness or falsity,\nan occurrence that would interest anybody if it\ncould be observed; but that, unfortunately, being\nonly a momentary phantom, could not be observed\nat all from without, but must be dimly felt from\nwithin. Our thought needs the Infinite Thought in\norder that it may get, through this Infinite judge,\nthe privilege of being so much as even an error.\n\nThis, it will be said, is but reassertion. But how\ndo we maintain this view against our Thrasymachus?\nOur answer is only a repetition of things that we\nhave already had to say, in the argument for what\nwe here reassert. If the judgment existed alone,\nwithout the inclusive thought to judge it, then, as it\nexisted alone, it either had an object, or had none. But if it had none, it was no error. If it had one,\nthen either it knew what its object actually was, or it\ndid not know what its object was, or it partially knew\nand partially did not know what its object actually\nwas. In the first case the judgment must have been\nan identical one, like the judgment A pain is a pain.\nSuch a judgment knows its own object, therefore\ncannot fail to agree with it, and cannot be an error. If\nthe judgment knew not its own object at all, then it\nhad no meaning, and so could not have failed to agree\nwith the object that it had not. If, however, this\nseparate judgment knew its object enough to intend\njust that object, but not enough to insure agreement\nwith it, all our difficulties return. The possible\njudge cannot give the judgment its complete object\nuntil he becomes its actual judge. Yet as fair judge\nhe must then give it the object that it already had\nwithout him. Meanwhile, however, the judgment\nremains in the unintelligible attitude previously\nstudied at length. It is somehow possessed of just the\nobject it intends, but yet does not know in reality\nwhat it does intend, else it would avoid error. Its\nobject, in so far as unknown to it, is no object for\nit; and yet only in so far as the object is thus\nunknown can it be erred about. What helps in all\nthis the barely possible judge? The actual judge\nmust be there; and for him the incomplete intention\nmust be complete. He knows what is really this\njudgment\u2019s object, for he knows what is imperfectly\nmeant in it. He knows the dream, and the interpretation\nthereof. He knows both the goal and the\nway thither. But all this is, to the separate judgment\nas such, a mystery. In fact, the separate judgments, waiting for the\npossible judge to test them, are like a foolish man\nwandering in a wood, who is asked whether he has\nlost his way. \u201cI may have lost it,\u201d he answers.\n\u201cBut whither are you going?\u201d \u201cThat I cannot\ntell?\u201d \u201cHave you no goal?\u201d \u201cI may have, but\nI have no notion what it is.\u201d \u201cWhat then do you\nmean by saying that you may have lost the way to\nthis place that you are not seeking? For you seem\nto be seeking no place; how then can you have lost\nthe way thither?\u201d \u201cI mean that some possible\nother man, who was wise enough to find whither I\nam trying to go, might possibly, in his wisdom, also\nperceive that I am not on the way to that place. So\nI may be going away from my chosen goal, although\nI am unaware what goal it is that I have chosen.\u201d\nSuch a demented man as this would, fairly\nrepresent the meaningless claim of the separate judgment,\neither to truthfulness, or to the chance of error.\n\nIn short, though the partial thought may be, as\nsuch, unconscious of its own aim, it can be so\nunconscious only in case it is contained in a total thought\nas one moment thereof.\n\nIt will be seen that wherever we have dealt in the\nprevious argument with the possibility of error as a\nmere possibility, we have had to use the result of the\nprevious chapter concerning the nature of possibility\nitself. The idea of the barely possible, in which\nthere is no actuality, is an empty idea. If anything\nis possible, then, when we say so, we postulate\nsomething as actually existent in order to constitute this\npossibility. The conditions of possible error must be actual. Bare possibility is blank nothingness. If\nthe nature of error necessarily and with perfect\ngenerality demands certain conditions, then these\nconditions are as eternal as the erroneousness of error\nitself is eternal. And thus the inclusive thought,\nwhich constitutes the error, must be postulated as\nexistent.\n\nSo, finally, let one try to affirm that the infinite\ncontent of the all-including mind does not exist, and\nthat the foregoing idealism is a mere illusion of ours.\nHe will find that he is involved in a circle from\nwhich there is no escape. For let him return to the\nposition of total relativity and so say: \u201cThe\ninfinite thought is unreal for me, and hence you are\nwrong.\u201d But then also he admits that we are right,\nfor in affirming this infinite we affirm, according to\nthis doctrine of total relativity itself, something that\nis just as true as it seems to us to be true. The\nopposing argument is thus at each moment of its\nprogress involved in a contradiction. Or again, let him\ninsist that our doctrine is not only relatively, but\nreally false. Then however he will fail to show us\nwhat this real falsity is. In fact he says what all our\nprevious examination shows to mean, this, namely,\nthat an infinite thought does exist, and does\nexperience the truth, and compares our thought with the\ntruth, and then observes this thought of ours to be\nfalse, that is, it discovers that itself is non-existent.\n\nWhoever likes this result may hold it if he can.\nIX.\n\nNow that our argument is completed as an\ninvestigation, let us review it in another way. We started\nfrom the fact of Error. That there is error is\nindubitable. What is, however, an error? The\nsubstance of our whole reasoning about the nature of\nerror amounted to the result that in and of itself\nalone, no single judgment is or can be an error.\nOnly as actually included in a higher thought, that\ngives to the first its completed object, and compares\nit therewith, is the first thought an error. It\nremains otherwise a mere mental fragment, a torso, a\npiece of drift-wood, neither true nor false, objectless,\nno complete act of thought at all. But the higher\nthought must include the opposed truth, to which\nthe error is compared in that higher thought. The\nhigher thought is the whole truth, of which the error\nis by itself an incomplete fragment.\n\nNow, as we saw with this as a starting-point, there\nis no stopping-place short of an Infinite Thought.\nThe possibilities of error are infinite. Infinite then\nmust be the inclusive thought. Here is this stick,\nthis brickbat, this snow-flake: there is an infinite\nmass of error possible about any one of them, and\nnotice, not merely possible is it, but actual. All the\ninfinite series of blunders that you could make about\nthem not only would be blunders, but in very truth\nnow are blunders, though you personally could never\ncommit them all. You cannot in fact make a truth\nor a falsehood by your thought. You only find one.\nFrom all eternity that truth was true, that falsehood false. Very well then, that infinite thought must\nsomehow have had all that in it from the beginning.\nIf a man doubts it, let him answer our previous\ndifficulties. Let him show us how he can make an\nerror save through the presence of an actual\ninclusive thought for which the error always was error\nand never became such at all. If he can do that,\nlet him try. We should willingly accept the result\nif he could show it to us. But he cannot. We\nhave rambled over those barren hills already too\nlong. Save for Thought there is no truth, no error.\nSave for inclusive Thought, there is no truth, no\nerror, in separate thoughts. Separate thoughts as\nsuch cannot then know or have the distinction\nbetween their own truth and their own falsity in themselves,\nand apart from the inclusive thought. There\nis then nothing of truth or of error to be found in\nthe world of separate thoughts as such. All the\nthoughts are therefore in the last analysis actually\ntrue or false, only for the all-including Thought, the\nInfinite.\n\nWe could have reached the same result had we\nset out from the problem, What is Truth? We\nchose not to do so because our skepticism had the\nplacid answer ready: \u201cNo matter what truth is, for\nvery likely there is little or no truth at all to be had.\nWhy trouble one\u2019s mind to define what a fairy or a\nbrownie is?\u201d \u201cVery well, then,\u201d we said to our\nskepticism, \u201cif that is thy play, we know a move that\nthou thinkest not of. We will not ask thee of truth,\nif thou thinkest there is none. We will ask thee of\nerror, wherein thou revelest.\u201d And our skepticism very cheerfully, if somewhat incoherently, answers,\nthat, \u201cif there be little or no truth here below, there\nis at least any amount of error, which as skeptics we\nhave all been detecting ever since we first went to\nschool.\u201d \u201cWe thank thee for that word, oh friend,\nbut now, what is an error?\u201d Blessed be Socrates\nfor that question. Upon that rock philosophy can,\nif it wants, build we know not yet how much.\n\nIt is enough for the moment to sum up the truth\nthat we have found. It is this: \u201cAll reality must\nbe present to the Unity of the Infinite Thought.\u201d\nThere is no chance of escape. For all reality is\nreality because true judgments can be made about it.\nAnd all reality, for the same reason, can be the\nobject of false judgments. Therefore, since the false\nand the true judgments are all true or false as\npresent to the infinite thought, along with their objects,\nno reality can escape. You and I and all of us, all\ngood, all evil, all truth, all falsehood, all things\nactual and possible, exist as they exist, and are known\nfor what they are, in and to the absolute thought;\nare therefore all judged as to their real character at\nthis everlasting throne of judgment.\n\nThis we have found to be true, because we tried\nto doubt everything. We shall try to expound in\nthe coming chapter the religious value of the conception.\nWe can however at once see this in it: The\nInfinite Thought must, knowing all truth, include also\na knowledge of all wills, and of their conflict. For\nhim all this conflict, and all the other facts of the\nmoral world, take place. He then must know the\noutcome of the conflict, that Moral Insight of our first book. In him then we have the Judge of our\nideals, and the Judge of our conduct. He must know\nthe exact value of the Good Will, which for him,\nlike all other possible truth, must be an actually\nrealized Fact. And so we cannot pause with a simply\ntheoretical idealism. Our doctrine is practical too.\nWe have found not only an infinite Seer of physical\nfacts, but an infinite Seer of the Good as well as of\nthe Evil. He knows what we have and what we\nlack. In looking for goodness we are in no wise\nlooking for what the real world does not contain.\n\nThis, we say, we have found as a truth, because\nwe tried to doubt everything. We have taken the\nwings of the morning, and we have fled; but\nbehold, we are in the midst of the Spirit. Truly the\nwords that some people have thought so fantastic\nought henceforth to be put in the text-books as\ncommonplaces of logical analysis: \u2014\n\n\u201cThey reckon ill that leave me out;\nWhen me they fly, I am the wings,\nI am the doubter and the doubt.\u201d \u2014\nEverything finite we can doubt, but not the Infinite.\nThat eludes even our skepticism. The world-builders,\nand the theodicies that were to justify them, we\ncould well doubt. The apologetic devices wearied\nus. All the ontologies of the realistic schools were\njust pictures, that we could accept or reject as we\nchose by means of postulates. We tried to escape\nthem all. We forsook all those gods that were yet\nno gods; but here we have found something that\nabides, and waxes not old, something in which there\nis no variableness, neither shadow of turning. No power it is to be resisted, no plan-maker to be foiled\nby fallen angels, nothing finite, nothing striving,\nseeking, losing, altering, growing weary; the\nAll-Enfolder it is, and we know its name. Not Heart,\nnor Love, though these also are in it and of it;\nThought it is, and all things are for Thought, and in\nit we live and move.\n\nNotes","title":"The Religious Aspect of Philosophy/Chapter 11","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":14471}