Skeptical politics in both its religious and epistemological forms addresses both the reality and limits of practical activity. It does not offer a methodological solution to the dilemmas of political life, but a lens through which to observe that life.
So, does it have any practical value? Insofar as it offers an adequate characterization of the nature of practical and political life, it can serve in what Wittgenstein calls a therapeutic role by allowing us to see through the nonsense that passes for political discourse these days and by clarifying what is and what is not of value in the various blandishments of contemporary politicians. That is, it can help us to make a distinction between the possible and the risible. A skeptical political disposition would also encourage us to appreciate those statesmen who understand that political life should be more concerned with calming emotions than with inflaming them.
In terms of the American political tradition, a skeptic might observe that American political discourse has been informed from almost the beginning by untenable ideological claims. If John Dickinson had not been dubious about declaring independence prematurely, we Americans might have been saved from such nonsense. Dickinson would have probably been asked to write such a declaration (he was considered the most formidable polemicist amongst the rebels), and he had never relied upon abstract rationalizations, preferring instead to argue on the basis of British constitutional principles. Had John Adams successfully defeated Mr. Jefferson in the election of 1800 perhaps the vocabulary of American politics would have become less ideological. Adams, as he aged, became a great deal less sanguine about universalist political crusades and he refused to participate or acknowledge the emergence of ideologically informed political parties. But, we have what we have, after all.
On the other hand, the US inherited the traditionalism of English politics, and, in its better moments, has acted accordingly. For most of its existence, the US has rejected emancipatory politics, at least at home. It has engaged on several disastrous crusades abroad, and, in the more recent history of the Democratic Party, the pinkish wing of that Party has made alliances with intemperate groups. However, the primary example of political skepticism in American politics is the US Constitution, which, despite its constant misreading by dirigiste judges, politicians, and other busybodies, is a non-aspirational, procedural document, and an obvious manifestation of the admiration of the founders for the English tradition of politics. It neither posits nor creates a substantive purpose uniting the American people and defining their government, but instead constitutes a set of procedures which authorize a non-teleological state.
For other examples of skeptical politics, see England in the 18th century, European diplomacy during the 18th and 19th centuries (other than the French, of course), and American diplomacy during much of 19th century.
EPISTEME: December 2023
2 days ago
6 comments:
Well, this is interesting. It clarifies a lot. You're saying, effectively, through your approval and judgment of the Constitution, that a skeptical politics is procedural - which is what I had suggested in one of my earlier comments. That makes a lot of sense. But, as I noted then, such a politics is always dependent on something 'outside' itself to get it going; in the US this has been Christianity and the Declaration.
If America had gone the way of Dickinson (i.e. the way of Britain) instead of the way of Jefferson, would it not have ended up as Canada? And, absent the Declaration or another guiding principle beyond procedure, how would you be able to judge between the two?
I'll address these comments in the next couple of days, but I will respond now by saying that I am not a believer in American exceptionalism, so ending up like Canada (Anglophone Canada, at least) would not bother me a great deal. I prefer living in the US to living in places like Canada, the UK, Australia, or Switzerland not because I think that US has a monopoly on liberty but because I grew up there and enjoy what I know and am accustomed to. I think that there are many ways to skin this cat.
On the second point, shared beliefs, institutions, and practices can provide the conditions of a relatively cohesive civil society, but don't necessarily entail any quasi-theoretical statement or guiding principle to support them. My Anglophilia obviously shows itself here again, but look at the British constitution.
. I had read your latest blog regarding skeptical
politics being more of a lens through which to view political life and
discourse. As one who admittedly comes to a similar view from the religious
side of the equation, I'd offer a couple of thoughts....
I've not read Oakeshott, but would be interested in investigating further.
I would agree with much of what I've seen. However, one quote of his you
highlighted regarding the sources of political skepticism was, "the politics
of skepticism…may be said to have its roots either in the radical belief
that human perfection is an illusion [the religious version], or in the less
radical belief that we know too little about the conditions of human
perfection for it to be wise to concentrate our energies in a single
direction by associating it with the activity of governing [the
epistemological version]."
Of the many things I would agree might be considered "radical" within the
Christian belief system, the belief that human perfection is an illusion
would not be one, and certainly not more radical (IMHO) than the idea that
"we know too little about the conditions of human perfection." I would
submit that we have every form of evidence from history and our personal
experience that would give credence to the religious view over the
epistemological. I know there are those optimists who would aspire to human
perfection, but I've just never seen the barest shred of evidence that it's
attainable (Jesus Christ excepted, of course). The epistemological path to
skepticism would require the burden of proof to my way of thinking. Perhaps
Oakeshott provides that in his works, and so I may look it up. But I'm
skeptical. :)
Also, while the picture of skepticism you paint does describe the lens
through which I view much of politics (and also much outside the realm of
politics), I don't know that I would be comfortable leaving it at that. I'm
skeptical of many things. Again from my religious bias, I look at
television evangelists and the political religious right along with liberal
theologians and their affiliated political parties all with a skeptical
eye. And because I've been in church life long enough, I probably tend to
be skeptical of most people and institutions right off the bat. That seems
especially necessary when these often claim to speak for God Almighty.
In my own case, however, I'd hate to leave that which is good in politics,
or in faith, to the whims of my skepticism. Perhaps the "methodological"
next step, and a practical virtue to which I could aspire to, would be
"wisdom". While the starting point of skepticism might be a good one (even
as Christ sends us into the world with the admonition to be "as shrewd as
serpents and innocent as doves."), I don't believe it makes for a fitting
epitaph. Skepticism is helpful as a lens, but falls short as a virtue, or
something one wants to be known for, at least exclusively. "Ken McIntyre
(or Eddie Walker) is a skeptic," is true enough, but I, at least, would hope
to take it a step further.
Perhaps if a person is "wise" in the political sense, they would have the
critical eye to see the shortcomings of the systems in place and work to
affect change or to instill knowledge (as you are doing) or to sound an
alarm, either within the system or from a distance. Some next step based on
their insight. If a person is wise in the religious sense, perhaps they
would go beyond skepticism of institutions and movements and even religious
leaders to seek progress. In neither case abandoning their skepticism, but
preferably moving beyond it. I think this does happen quite often actually
in practice, but it doesn't make a good news story.
As this is written in haste, I'm afraid there are likely holes in this
idea. "Wisdom", I think, would imply some overarching concept of right and
wrong that might not find support in a strictly political arena, and doesn't
necessarily flow from skepticism anyway, either religious or political. A
skeptic might simply become apathetic, whereas an ideologue might pursue a
good, or wise, course of practical action. But anyway, as one who finds
myself as a skeptic by nature, I don't necessarily find it a place I want to
stay exclusively. Wisdom is something I would aspire to based on the
spiritual idea that there is an ultimate good worth pursuing and an evil to
shun. In a political sense there might be a better label for this desire to
progress beyond skepticism. (I think such a desire would indicate a
spiritual response that rejects nihilism, but then again, I espouse faith!)
And now the sun rises. Sorry for the long email, and you certainly don't
have to respond if you'd rather not. These things are just good food for
thought to me, and I enjoy the opportunity to have discussion with those who
are more studied than I in areas that interest me. And you always send me
to my online dictionary with a new vocabulary word or two! Hope you have a
good Thanksgiving. (In Canada...?)
You address several questions to me which are very important, and I will try to address them briefly. Oakeshott claims that the kind of practical skepticism which is derived from Augustinian Christianity (for example) is radical in the context of the modern secular west, and that the epistemological version appears less radical because it is couched in more rationalistic terms. For example, your appeal to the common experience of evil in the world echoes that of St. Augustine, who spent a considerable portion of ‘The City of God’ going through a litany of human evil. These experiential arguments are less convincing to the non-religious (though Hobbes and other realists have used them, too).
Concerning the question about epistemology and skepticism, I’ve noted in answer to a response on the blog that neither skepticism about the theoretical coherence of practical life nor skepticism about various types of epistemological realism necessarily entail the kind of metaphysical skepticism which worries you.
With reference to wisdom, my answer would be that wisdom is just what is needed in politics, but it is political wisdom not religious, aesthetic, scientific, or philosophical wisdom. We need connoisseurship, not expertise, and the only way to get it is to learn it through actual involvement in political life.
In terms of quietism, being skeptical doesn’t necessarily entail it, but there is really no need for everyone to feel required to be involved in political life. Politics necessarily involves the vulgarization of the rest of our concerns. Most of us can live perfectly happy lives without getting involved, and, if fact, most of us make more significant contributions to the well-being of our political communities by tending our own garden than politicians do by meddling in everyone’s garden.
Concerning the question about epistemology and skepticism, I’ve noted in answer to a response on the blog that neither skepticism about the theoretical coherence of practical life nor skepticism about various types of epistemological realism necessarily entail the kind of metaphysical skepticism which worries you.
With reference to wisdom, my answer would be that wisdom is just what is needed in politics, but it is political wisdom not religious, aesthetic, scientific, or philosophical wisdom. We need connoisseurship, not expertise, and the only way to get it is to learn it through actual involvement in political life.
Yes, I'm sympathetic with this (I'm the first anon, not the second), although I would still not be as strong in my wording of the first quoted paragraph.
Politics necessarily involves the vulgarization of the rest of our concerns. Most of us can live perfectly happy lives without getting involved, and, if fact, most of us make more significant contributions to the well-being of our political communities by tending our own garden than politicians do by meddling in everyone’s garden.
That seems to contradict "We need connoisseurship, not expertise, and the only way to get it is to learn it through actual involvement in political life." The need for experience, if only in small matters of government, namely making as many of our own choices as we can, was of course Tocqueville's point.
I think Tocqueville (and Mill followed him, here) was a bit too sanguine about what participation of the kind that he mentioned can achieve. Or, if he wasn't overly optimistic about this question in the 1830s, I think that the kind of participation open to most people now is unlikely to produce the kind of political taste of which I am thinking. Serving on a jury, voting, volunteering for a campaign no longer provide much for the masses other than an intrusion upon their time. What I'm talking about requires leisure (see J.Pieper's book of the same title), and that is just what the masses don't have (and don't want). I will write about taste, expertise, and populism this week.
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