That logic has already, from the earliest times, proceeded upon this sure path is evidenced by the fact that since Aristotle it has not required to retrace a single step, unless, indeed, we care to count as improvements the removal of certain needless subtleties or the clearer exposition of its recognized teaching, features which concern the elegance rather than the certainty of the science. It is remarkable also that to the present day this logic has not been able to advance a single step, and is thus to all appearance a closed and completed body of doctrine. If some of the moderns have thought to enlarge it by introducing psychological chapters on the different faculties of knowledge (imagination, wit, etc.), metaphysical chapters on the origin of knowledge or on the different kinds of certainty according to difference in the objects (idealism, skepticism, etc.), or anthropological chapters on prejudices, their causes and remedies, this could only arise from their ignorance of the peculiar nature of logical science. We do not enlarge but disfigure sciences, if we allow them to trespass upon one another’s territory. [emphasis mine] The sphere of logic is quite precisely delimited; its sole concern is to give an exhaustive exposition and a strict proof of the formal rules of all thought, whether it be a priori or empirical, whatever be its origin or its object, and whatever hindrances, accidental or natural, it may encounter in our minds.
I have been reading and teaching F. H. Bradley. I have also been reading about him–reading T. S. Eliot, Geoffrey Hill, Alan Donagan and others. Bradley wrote wonderfully (and I have remarked on his prose previously on the blog). But Bradley was a genuinely gifted thinker as well as stylist. At the heart of his work is stationed the acknowledgment that Kant expresses above (“We do not enlarge but disfigure…”) and Bradley observes it dutifully throughout all his work.
Consider one important, wholly characteristic passage:
The supposed gulf between sheer errors and utter truths is, again, created by the same vice of abstractionism. A truth so true that it has no other side, and an error so false that it contains no truth, I have condemned as idols. They are to me no better than the truths which are never at all born in time, or again the truths whose life does not pass beyond that which is made and unmade by chance and change…
On the one hand it is the entire Reality alone which matters. On the other hand, every single thing, so far as it matters, is so far real, real in its own place and degree, and according as more or less it contains and carries out the in-dwelling character of the concrete Whole. But there is nothing anywhere in the world which, taken barely in its own right and unconditionally, has importance and is real. And one main work of philosophy is to show that, where there is isolation and abstraction, there is everywhere, so far as this abstraction forgets itself, unreality and error.
This: Bradley’s peculiar anti-reductionism. Bradley’s (Absolute) idealism largely resolves into this anti-reductionism. It is easy to miss it, in part because Bradley’s talk of abstractionism makes you think up not down as reductionism usually does. The anti-reductionism yeilds an ideal-ized version of Butler: Everything is what it is and not another thing, and in the place that it is and not another place, and to the degree that it is and not to another.
Everything is justified as being real in its own sphere and degree, but not so as to entitle it to invade other spheres, and, whether positively or negatively, to usurp other powers…And it is the true Absolute alone that gives its due to every interest just because it refuses to everything more than its own due. Justice in the name of the Whole to each aspect of the world according to its special place and proper rank–Reality everywhere through self-restriction and in denial…
For Bradley, philosophy enforces justice in the name of the Whole. Isolation discounts the Whole for the sake of a part; abstraction discounts the part for the sake of the Whole. We may, if we need, knowingly isolate or knowingly abstract–knowingly discount Whole or part for the sake of the other. But we must not allow ourselves to forget what we are doing, and so lose either the Whole or the part. Bradley knew that to take thought is almost always to isolate or to abstract, and so he knew that taking thought renders the thinker liable to unreality or error. The only way to resist the unreality or error is to remain constantly aware not only of the product of isolation or abstraction, but also of the process of isolation or abstraction that produced it, and so not lose sight of the product’s limited value and reality. Philosophy itself matters, remains real, only through self-restriction and in denial. Bradley would have appreciated J. L. Austin’s metaphilosophical reminder–neither a be-all nor and end-all be.
Bradley’s work is a remarkable conceptual successor of Kant’s; it is thoroughly Critical, and so thoroughly critical. It builds nothing but character.