by Bruce Thompson.
In a time in which authoritative voices are derided as “fake news,” it has once again become fashionable to believe in truth. Our fascination with post-modern relativism has soured as we have experienced the practical effects of living in a social and political world utterly unencumbered by facts. But to reclaim our belief in truth, we must be careful not to fall back into the same naïve absolutism that gave rise to post-modernism in the first place. It is not enough merely to begin believing in facts again: we must find the happy synthesis that merges the thesis of absolutism with its antithesis of relativism.
When I was a young philosophy instructor one of the college counselors threw out a challenge to the faculty. He said, “Whatever you think you know about your field, there is a person of color in your field that you should be paying more attention to.” I felt pretty sure that I was an expert in my field, so I decided to take his challenge. I went to him and asked, “Who am I missing? Who have I overlooked?” He replied, “Have you ever heard of Alain Locke?” I hadn’t.
Alain Locke—not to be confused with the British philosopher, John Locke—was a student at Harvard University, studying under the same philosophers whom I considered to be my primary focus: the American pragmatists. I was entirely unaware of a philosopher in my own field of studies! As a student, Locke was awarded a Rhodes scholarship but was unable to attend the banquet in honor of recipients because he was African-American. He went on to found the philosophy department at Howard University. His writings in values theory, literary criticism, and art criticism were among the driving intellectual forces behind the Harlem Renaissance. Despite his obvious importance, he has been all but forgotten, merely because of the color of his skin. I have since tried to include Locke in my philosophy classes whenever possible.
Locke’s essay, “Pluralism and Ideological Peace,” is as relevant today as it was when it was written in 1947 (as his response to the escalating Cold War). In that essay Locke credits William James with the idea of “psychological pluralism,” the idea that we cannot use experience to settle disagreements, since our experiences are colored by our values. We simply do not see what we do not wish to see. Our values, in turn, come from various sources, but chiefly from our upbringing as part of a culture. People from different cultures may be unable to resolve their disagreements on questions of morality because they cannot even agree on the facts relevant to the question. Locke uses this line of reasoning to argue for the general acceptance of “cultural relativism,” i.e. the view that people from different cultures must be regarded as holding equally valid moral opinions. He hopes that one outcome of this general acceptance will be “ideological peace,” by which he means a state of society in which inevitable disagreements do not result in bloodshed, but only in mutual tolerance.
On a first reading, Locke appears to be making the case for post-modernism. In a sense, he is. But Locke’s argument is more subtle than it appears, and certainly much better than the argument given by such anthropologists as Melville Herskovitz and Ruth Benedict, who also defend “cultural relativism.” Their argument seems to be (1) that diversity of beliefs is an observable fact, (2) that diversity is therefore not a bad thing, and (3) that we should therefore adopt a universal attitude of tolerance. This argument is widely (and rightly) derided on a number of grounds. First, it is an example of the “naturalistic fallacy,” i.e. the fallacy of inferring that because something is the case, it therefore ought to be the case. It also urges a moral universal (the universal acceptance of tolerance), having just made the case that there are no moral universals!
Locke makes no such argument. Diversity is not just an observed fact. Because we interpret experience in light of our values, it is the more or less inevitable outcome of normal rational inquiry. He does not ask us to accept this diversity as “good” (or “not bad”); he merely asks us to consider the most practical, rational response to it. Efforts to stamp out diversity by force have been unsuccessful, even counterproductive; so, that doesn’t seem to be the best response. On the other hand, surrender to what he calls “values anarchy,” i.e. the view that values don’t really matter and that all beliefs are equally valid (and equally bogus), leaves us without a moral compass. This is not an acceptance of our opponents’ values so much as a rejection even of our own.
So, what is the most rational response? Locke urges that the first response must be a “sympathetic understanding of the bases of our value differences,” i.e. an inquiry into their “root causes.” For example, if I believe my shirt is green, while my friend believes it to be grey, it may advance mutual understanding to discover that my friend is color-blind. On a broader interpretation of the facts, my shirt is neither green nor grey. Color is perceived, and it is perceived differently by different people. Recognizing this broader truth in no way undermines the concept of truth; indeed, the broader understanding requires a concept of truth. It is simply true that our perceptions are equally valid. Being willing to extend this logic to an understanding of moral disagreements requires some courage, but the logic remains the same.
Locke believes that most disputes—including moral disputes—are ultimately resolvable, either by coming to mutual agreement or by coming to a mutual understanding of the valid reasons for the disparity. Locke holds out the possibility that some moral disputes may not be resolvable, but he never goes so far as to say this is inevitable. He merely says that some disputes appear not to be resolvable in the foreseeable future.
So, like scientists, we stumble toward truth by successive approximation, sometimes being right and often being wrong, but eventually correcting our errors, improving the state of our collective knowledge as we go, and (ideally) maintaining an attitude of peaceful tolerance and respect as the inquiry proceeds. My discovery of Alain Locke illustrates the point. I had believed I knew what there was to know about philosophers in the American pragmatist tradition. I was wrong. Being wrong is the price we sometimes have to pay for believing in truth; and, knowing that I might be wrong forces me to be tolerant of the opinions of others. On the other hand, since I believe in truth, I can insist that opinions be backed by evidence. My opponent cannot just throw out wild assertions, and try to undermine our shared reality by shouting “Fake news!” and singing “La la la la la.” I don’t need to tolerate that.