Philosophy, as I shall understand the word, is something intermediate between theology and science. Like theology, it consists of speculations on matters as to which definite knowledge has, so far, been unascertainable; but like science, it appeals to human reason rather than to authority, whether that of tradition or that of revelation. All definite knowledge--so I should contend-- belongs to science; all dogma as to what surpasses definite knowledge belongs to theology. But between theology and science there is a No Man's Land, exposed to attack from both sides; this No Man's Land is philosophy. Almost all the questions of most interest to speculative minds are such as science cannot answer, and the confident answers of theologians no longer seem so convincing as they did in former centuries...Why, then, you may ask, waste time on such insoluble problems? To this one may answer as a historian, or as an individual facing the terror of cosmic loneliness.
The answer of the historian, in so far as I am capable of giving it, will appear in the course of this work. Ever since men became capable of free speculation, their actions, in innumerable important respects, have depended upon their theories as to the world and human life, as to what is good and what is evil. This is as true in the present day as at any former time. To understand an age or a nation, we must understand its philosophy, and to understand its philosophy we must ourselves be in some degree philosophers. There is here a reciprocal causation: the circumstances of men's lives do much to determine their philosophy, but, conversely, their philosophy does much to determine their circumstances. This interaction throughout the centuries will be the topic of the following pages.
There is also, however, a more personal answer. Science tells us what we can know, but what we can know is little, and if we forget how much we cannot know we become insensitive to many things of very great importance. Theology, on the other hand, induces a dogmatic belief that we have knowledge where in fact we have ignorance, and by doing so generates a kind of impertinent insolence towards the universe. Uncertainty, in the presence of vivid hopes and fears, is painful, but must be endured if we wish to live without the support of comforting fairy tales. It is not good either to forget the questions that philosophy asks, or to persuade ourselves that we have found indubitable answers to them. To teach how to live without certainty, and yet without being paralyzed by hesitation, is perhaps the chief thing that philosophy, in our age, can still do for those who study it.--Russell The History of Western Philosophy "Introductory" xiii-xiv
At the start of the History, Russell claims that philosophy involves a rejection of extrinsic authority (e.g., revelation, tradition, faith, political legislation, etc.) and accepts or embraces (and perhaps submits to) the intrinsic authority of reason. So, from the start Russell's History embraces a kind of Enlightenment project in which the point of philosophy is to be free from the (unreasonable) tutelage of others. To become philosophical is to become both rational and secular. That is to say, part of the world historical drama of the History has a Spinozistic character: the attempts of reason/philosophy to free itself from such tutelage. One effect of this is that in general Russell evaluates the past, in part, in terms of its contribution to such progress. And this connects (recall) the way he evaluates philosophy both on its own terms and as a cause on shaping its environment. Okay, with that in place let's turn to the particular conceptions of philosophy.
First, philosophy is a speculative enterprise. But what counts as speculative can shift over time. So, the philosophy of one age may be the science of the next. That Russell associates science with definite knowledge is a bit surprising because when he was younger he treated the content of science as a changeable moving target. (There is an echo of this in the History in his passing comments on the impact of quantum mechanics on science (p. 540.)) Even so, one important implication of Russell's picture is that even in philosophy science has only limited authority: it may provide constraints, but if a question is properly philosophical, the present answer will outstrip the resources of present science (but may make future science possible). So, even scientific philosophy is in a certain sense beyond science. (I return to this below.)
Second, Russell thinks speculations, past and present, are interesting, in part, because they help understand ages and nations, which are both partially constituted by philosophy and, in turn, constitute it (see also the chapter on political liberalism). So, even if the history of philosophy is the history of error, it's these errors that shape fundamental features of social reality. And while ages may pass and nations go extinct, the present age and existing nations have been partially shaped by past philosophy.
This suggests that in order to grasp one's social world one must become acquainted with the speculative thoughts that helped shape it. If one only studies effects (e.g.,ages and nations) one lacks a full understanding and explanation of one's social world. And strikingly this acquaintance must be of such a sort that one becomes in a certain way a philosopher oneself ("to understand its philosophy we must ourselves be in some degree philosophers.") The study of the history of philosophy is thus, both, part of a political education and part of the path toward rationality.
Third, because philosophy is intrinsically speculative it is always accompanied by uncertainty. And so the natural teaching of philosophy qua philosophy in the art of living is to learn to live without certainty. (This puts an interesting spin on Keynes and Knight.) Russell tacitly assumes away here that giving up on hopes and fears -- the Stoic and Buddhist response -- or the very asking of certain questions (e.g., Hume, Nietzsche, Carnap, Wittgenstein) are appropriate.*
In Russell's narrative to live without certainty is, at bottom, the teaching of Locke (p. 608-9, where he quotes the Essay IV.XVI.4).** And because Locke is treated as the "first comprehensive statement of liberal philosophy" (600), we can see that for Russell liberalism -- in so far as it remains a skeptical liberalism -- is the repository of philosophy's contribution to the art of living. Marxism and fascism are also genuinely modern, in the way that liberalism is modern, but these are more coherent than liberalism. Fascism, however, produces the subordination of individual reason to some despotic (non-rational) authority (600 & 790). In principle, Marxism need not do so in its ultimate state, but to get there rational persuasion is sacrificed to class war and revolution (790).
As an aside, Russell recognizes that to learn to live with uncertainty, which is always a bit "painful," is not always what's called for; one should not always insist on it in others. In particular, he praises Spinoza's philosophy of being a source of "help towards sanity and an antidote to the paralysis of utter despair" when circumstances are especially bad. According to Russell is this available without the metaphysical claims of Spinoza--"all one needs to realize is that that "human life...is an infinitesimal part of the life of the universe." (580)
Russell understands scientific philosophy, or the philosophy of logical analysis, as a two-fold discovery: on the one hand "many questions...can be answered with precision, and by objective methods" not perhaps definitively, but with cumulative "successive approximations to the truth." (835-6) And where such truth is reached, philosophy turns into science. On the other hand, it is the embrace of mankind's inability to "find conclusive answers to many questions of profound importance to mankind" by science and reason alone. (835) That is to say, in this respect, as it looks like 'western' civilization is nearly destroying itself, Russell interprets the general outlook of scientific philosophy as in fundamental accord with the way liberalism is the depository of philosophy's true teaching, as he puts in the last sentence of the book: "in abandoning a part of its dogmatic pretensions, philosophy does not cease to suggest and inspire a way of life." (836)
*It is often thought that to learn to live without certainty is characteristic of modernity. But I have long thought, inspired by this paper by Howard Stein, that for Plato philosophical questions do not just begin in wonder, but also (more speculatively) end in wonder. Russell himself thinks that Socrates is fundamentally dogmatic "his professed uncertainty is only assumed" (89; discussing the afterlife.)
**I do not mean to suggest that for Russell, Locke is the only philosopher that embraces this. (See History 663 on Hume's challenge to philosophy!)
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