Introductory
summary by Ted Honderich of Bernard Williams’s Royal Institute of Philosophy
Annual Lecture
PHILOSOPHY
AS A HUMANIST DISCIPLINE
Mainstream philosophy, as you have
heard before now, can be taken to be a greater concentration than
science's on the logic of ordinary intelligence: (i) clarity and in particular
analysis, (ii) consistency and validity, (iii) completeness, and (iv)
generality or summation -- usually with respect to large subjects, of which the
largest are sometimes labelled reality, knowledge, and value. This philosophy,
maybe you can also say, is thinking about
facts as against science's getting of
facts. But should this philosophy approximate more to science? If so, does
it immediately become what falls under a pejorative term, scientism, an excessive or exclusive deference to science and its
method?
The
philosophical life of Sir Bernard Williams, which might have been still more
fulfilled by being longer, began with Greats in Oxford, the undergraduate
degree that begins with Homer and the ancient history of the Greeks and now may
end with Williams among others. It was a brilliant start in life. Then followed
thinking and teaching at All Souls College, University College London, Bedford
College London, Cambridge where he was provost of King's College, the
University of California at Berkeley, and Oxford again. This was also a life
much of which was at least in touch, by way of his marriage, with a political
class of conscience.
As a Royal
Institute of Philosophy Annual Lecturer, he finds in and advocates more in
mainstream philosophy than you have heard. He allows necessarily that there is
some philosophical work that is what he calls an extension of science, no doubt
including not only the philosophy of science but also, say, kinds of philosophy
of mind and language. But it is his principal line of thought that mainstream
philosophy has been and must continue to be, or to be more of, a humanistic
discipline. Its being humanistic is
defined or spoken of as its being the attempt to make the best sense of our life, including our thinking. Its being
a discipline is, as you have heard
above in my other explicit words, its expressing things clearly and offering
arguments, or, as he says, getting things right.
This
philosophy does not and must not embrace scientism. It must not try to
assimilate philosophy to the aims or the manners of the sciences -- the aim of
philosophy but not science is indeed to make the best sense of our life. This
first proposition is to be understood and defended, perhaps mainly, in terms of
a second one, that science aspires to an absolute, objective or universal view
of all that it concerns itself with. But -- a third proposition -- it is a
mistake to think that an absolute conception of the world, in so far as that is
possible, is all that matters, the only worthwhile endeavour. An absolute
conception is not intrinsically superior to a conception from what is called a
perspective, some point of view, a kind of locality.
As a
result, a fourth and the main proposition of the lecture is that philosophy and
more than philosophy must attend to history and to its own history. We cannot
separate ourselves off from our history and the history of philosophy. That we
must attend to our past is a necessity, at least in large part, because
historiography is also a part of making sense of our existence. That we must
attend to the history of philosophy is in good part the fact that without doing
so we cannot in our progress understand the fullness of what we may be denying.
We do not understand what we believe except by understanding what it is that we
are disbelieving.
These main
reflections of the lecture, together with instructive reprises and
elaborations, one about what is called the vindicatory, another about what is unhintergehbar, basic in the sense of
being beyond justification, come together with still other lines of reflection
with which Williams was more engaged in his life, reflections on morality and
moral philosophy. Although he does not himself attend to the matter in his
lecture, there is at least a consonancy between his conception of philosophy as
humanistic, his passionate recommendation with respect to it, and his
conception of morality and of moral philosophy. For him it cannot be that
morality is a matter of theories, of generalizations, of principles or a
principle of what is right. It is instead is a matter of such considerations as
personal integrity.
Look back
over the lectures in this book. Can the conception of philosophy or maybe best
philosophy as necessarily in a way historical be made consistent with the worth
of these lectures? Is it true and enlightening that the difference of
philosophy from science is that philosophy cannot aspire to objectivity? Can it
be safe to eschew a general rule of what is right? Does it show
misunderstanding to ask, if integrity is being true to oneself, having
principles, being whole and undivided, whether Hitler could have had integrity?
Certainly
neither Bernard, as I remember from his teaching of me, nor I, would hurry you
into deferential agreement with any of that or with his lecture. You can look
further into the questions by way of the wide range of his lovely books,
reasonable in their confidence. Morality:
An Introduction to Ethics; Ethics and
the Limits of Philosophy; Moral Luck;
Problems of the Self; Truth and Truthfulness. The present
lecture is also reprinted in a posthumous collection of connected and
supporting writings, also under the title Philosophy
as a Humanistic Discipline.