Culture and the Interpretation of the Philosophical Classics, East and West
Jorge J. E. Gracia
The question of the validity and usefulness of the cultural interpretation of the philosophical
classics is central to any discussion of interpretation East and West undertaken in a philosophical
context. After all, the interpretation of the philosophical classics is at the center of both western
and eastern philosophy as it is evident in the many philosophers who to this day do philosophy
through the commentary on Plato and Aristotle in the West and Confucius and Mencius in the
East. It is in cultural interpretations that the differences between East and West should become
more obvious insofar as they may in turn reflect the cultural differences that separate East and
West. But are these cultural interpretations the proper way to interpret the philosophical classics,
and to what extent should this cultural approach be used? This is the question that I propose to
explore today because of its significance in a conference such as this one, devoted to
interpretation East and West.
The fundamental issue at stake is the relevance of cultural considerations for the
interpretation of philosophical classic texts. Three positions can be easily identified with respect
to this issue: 1) the philosophical classics must be interpreted exclusively in cultural terms; 2) the
interpretation of the philosophical classics must exclude all cultural references; and 3) the
interpretation of the philosophical classics must include the consideration of both cultural and
philosophical factors. In more standard philosophical jargon, we could say that the first argues
that cultural analyses of the philosophical classics are sufficient for their interpretation, the
second that they are neither sufficient nor necessary, and the third that they are necessary but
become sufficient only when coupled with philosophical analyses. All three positions have been
explicitly or implicitly defended by historians of philosophy.
My aim is to make a case for a fourth position which is closely related to the third. I
argue that, although the consideration of culture is useful, and even sometimes factually
necessary for the understanding of the philosophical classics, philosophical considerations are of
the essence. Therefore, interpretations that omit, or even neglect, philosophical considerations
are necessarily inadequate, whereas interpretations that omit, or neglect, cultural considerations
need not be so merely in virtue of this fact.
My discussion is organized as a disputed question. I first present arguments for and
against the cultural interpretation of the classics. Then I proceed to present my own view of the
matter. And, finally, after returning briefly to the arguments presented at the beginning, I
summarize my conclusions.
One propaedeutic point of clarification before I begin the discussion proper. I understand
a philosophical classic to be a text of philosophy that has become established in the canon of
texts that are read and reread because of their philosophical value.
I. The Case for the Cultural Interpretation of the Philosophical Classics
The backbone of the position that emphasizes the importance of cultural considerations in the
interpretation of the classics is constituted by three arguments. The first notes that the alternative
positions are naive. The reasons why authors hold certain views have often very little to do with
the arguments they give; they hold those views largely, or even exclusively, because of factors
that are part of the cultural context in which they work. Interpretations of the classics that do not
pay proper attention to cultural factors are, therefore, inaccurate insofar as they ignore the actual
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causes that produced the phenomena they aim to explain.1
The second argument points out that views of the history of philosophy that try to
interpret philosophical phenomena in philosophical terms, without taking into account culture,
assume a univocal view of philosophy throughout history. But there is no evidence that all
philosophers that ever lived held the same conception of philosophy or of what they were doing
when doing philosophy. As Peckhaus puts it, “the meaning of ‘philosophy’ is continually
changing.... It is simply false to assume that (one of) the modern conception(s) of philosophy
could be the forever unchanging final point of a development.”2 Naturally, if there is no such a
univocal notion of philosophy in the history of the discipline, one cannot possibly argue that it is
a certain type of phenomenon – call it philosophical – rather than variegated cultural phenomena,
that is responsible for the views philosophers hold.
Finally, it is argued that philosophy, philosophical reasons, philosophical views, and
philosophical arguments themselves are cultural phenomena. They are the products of persons
working within cultural parameters and subject to cultural forces. As Peckhaus points out,
“philosophy is evidently the result of doing philosophy, i.e., of the social activity of
philosophizing.”3 Kusch is even more explicit when he notes that “rational entities like reasons,
arguments or theories are social entities, i.e. they are social institutions, or parts of social
institutions, or dependent upon social institutions.”4 And of course social entities are the result of
culture. Philosophical reasons, arguments, and views, argue some supporters of the cultural point
of view, require cultural interpretations rather than, or in addition to – depending on the
interpreter in question – philosophical ones. To treat such phenomena exclusively in noncultural
terms is to misunderstand their nature and to produce interpretations that have no credibility or
accuracy. Again, as Peckhaus further argues, a noncontextual interpretation of the history of
philosophy “is an illusion because of the temporality of philosophy as an activity and the
contextuality of philosophy and philosophizing.”5
To this one should add that the classics occupy a unique place and have a unique status
in cultures. They often function as models to be emulated and establish parameters within which
activities are to be conducted. And they have authority, indeed, some times unquestioned
authority that derives from their position. A classic is not just a work that is read, it is rather a
text that exercises a certain influence on all other texts and that is taken a paradigmatic of a
culture. This, of course, makes the discussion of the culture that produced them even more
relevant for their understanding and interpretation.
These are powerful arguments that require careful attention. Rather than addressing them
individually at the outset, however, I shall turn now to some of the arguments that can be
mustered against the use of cultural interpretations of the classics.
II. The Case against the Cultural Interpretation of the Philosophical Classics
At least five interesting arguments can be used against the view that the interpretation of the
philosophical classics must be done culturally. First, one may argue that, in spite of many efforts,
those who favor cultural interpretations have not yet succeeded in presenting a clear description,
or illustration, of the method they propose. In other words, it is not at all clear what the cultural
method, or a cultural interpretation of the classics, is. This can be easily illustrated by referring to
some interpretations of the history of philosophy. In the first place, there is a considerable degree
of latitude as to what is considered cultural. Some interpretations regarded as cultural involve
political forces, as can be seen in an article by Matthew Chew.6 He explains the views
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concerning indigenous knowledge held by Chinese and Japanese philosophers in terms of the
politics of the philosophical profession and the university in China and Japan. Some
interpretations involve deeply rooted beliefs and attitudes. A good example of this is an article by
Barry Sandywell, in which he attempts to show that theoretical discourse in ancient Greece is the
result of the fundamental agonistic ethic which permeated Greek culture at the time.7 Some
interpretations involve social factors. For example, Randall Collins argues that the attitude of
philosophers toward ethics can be explained in terms of the fabric of the particular kind of social
group formed by academics and intellectuals themselves.8 In short, there is considerable variety
as to the phenomena that is considered relevant in cultural interpretations and it is not clear what
the parameters of relevant phenomena are.
Moreover, a considerable degree of generality and even vagueness are common in these
interpretations. One could use David Bloor’s characterization of Wittgenstein’s thought on the
basis of Karl Mannheim’s categories to illustrate this feature.9 Indeed, in this case it appears as if
the interpretation is ultimately based on certain feelings and impressions. Consider how Bloor
himself describes his experience: “I was then spontaneously and forcefully struck by what
seemed the evident similarity between the Investigations and what Mannheim said about
conservatism. I felt that Mannheim could almost have been describing Wittgenstein’s work. I
will not be able, and will not even try, to recreate that experience in you, but I will identify for
you some of the grounds for this feeling of having, at last, identified the spirit, as it were,
informing Wittgenstein’s work.”10 (My emphasis) In all fairness I should point out that Bloor
then proceeds to substantiate his claims in various ways, some of which are quite enlightening.
Still, the initial intuition dominates the discussion, and one could argue that much is left in the
realm of conjecture and speculation.
A second argument points out that, although cultural interpretations might be of interest
to cultural historians, they are not of interest to philosophers. Philosophers are interested in the
philosophical classics and other parts of the history of philosophy because of the philosophical
reasons that philosophers from the past give for their views, not because of the nonphilosophical
factors that may have caused them to hold the views they held. Consider the conclusion of
Chew’s article on the strategies of accommodating indigenous knowledge in China and Japan.
He tells us: “We found that a segregational strategy tends to maximize space for indigenous
development yet offers potential for disciplinary legitimacy in the international context, whereas
a universalizing strategy handicaps the very emergence of indigenous knowledge yet maximizes
its disciplinary legitimacy once it emerges. Equipped with an understanding of the tradeoff in
advantages and risks of the two strategies, scholars in a non-Western culture may choose among
different strategies and coordinate their efforts with a chosen one. The choice of strategy in our
two historical cases was not entirely voluntary, but instead partly predetermined by broader
cultural-historical factors.”11 Is this relevant to the history of philosophy? Where is the
philosophical interest in it?
Third, one may argue that, even if philosophical views are the result of cultural forces
and, indeed, are themselves to be considered cultural phenomena, this is not sufficient (1) to
discard philosophical interpretations in favor of cultural ones, (2) to grant philosophical
interpretations a role secondary to cultural ones, or even (3) to regard cultural interpretations as
being on an equal footing with philosophical ones. One must distinguish between the context of
the expression of a view and the view. This can be put in terms of a distinction I introduced in
Philosophy and Its History between the intensional and extensional historicity of a proposition.12
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The extensional historicity of a proposition has to do with its historical context. In this sense, a
proposition is historical when it is entertained or held by someone at a particular time and place
in history. The intensional historicity of a proposition, on the other hand, has to do with what the
proposition says. A proposition that says nothing temporal or historical is not intensionally
historical. When I say, 2 + 2 = 4, I have said something in time, and what I say is temporal and
historical to that extent. But what I have said has nothing to do with time or history; it involves a
relation between concepts that is completely atemporal. This, of course, is different from a case
in which I say something like: My daughter got married so many years ago. In this case we have
both an extensionally and an intensionally historical proposition, because not only have I
expressed the proposition in time, but what I express is also temporal. Philosophy and the rules
according to which it is judged are not intensionally historical, any more than mathematics is,
and, therefore, an extensional interpretation of them, as cultural historians propose, does not do
justice to them.
A fourth argument against the use of cultural interpretations of the philosophical classics
points out that they are inconclusive. A cultural interpretation tells us that A held P because, for
example, P was a widely held view in the culture C to which A belonged. But this does not
explain why the members of C held P. Does not holding P have to do with the merits of P, or at
least the merits that the members of C saw in P? To say that A held P because C held P leaves
open the question of why C held P. At this point the proponent of the cultural interpretation, call
him culturalist, has two alternatives. One is to say that no further interpretation can be given, but
then why going to C at all? Why not stop with A? The move from A to C appears gratuitous.
And there is another problem, namely, that the step from A to C relies on a questionable
assumption: If C holds P, A also does. But is this so with every view? Clearly not, for authors
frequently challenge the views of their cultures, as Collins correctly points out.13 This leaves
open the question of why authors sometimes take their views from their cultures and sometimes
not. And how are we going to interpret this culturally?
The other alternative is to give another cultural interpretation of why C held P, but this
would in turn require a further interpretation, and so on in infinitum. This procedure is
unsatisfactory unless we come to a point where the interpretation consists in pointing out the
merits of P. But if this is so, then why do we need to go to C in the first place? We could identify
those reasons in reference to A and leave it at that.
Finally, a fifth argument against the culturalist point of view is that it is not clear why
interpreters of the classics who adopt it privilege cultural interpretations over other
interpretations. For example, why not explain that A holds P on the basis of physical phenomena,
such a brain structure, chemical composition, diet, health condition, weight, genetic make up,
and the like? Why should we favor “cultural” factors rather than “physical” ones? After all, the
physical sciences have been more successful in predicting phenomena than cultural history and it
is generally agreed that their methodologies are better established and more rigorous and reliable.
The special place that some cultural interpreters give to cultural interpretations over all others
requires the kind of justification that it is so far lacking in the enterprise and suggests that
cultural historians favor cultural interpretations of the philosophical classics not because they
provide better explanations of them, but simply because these explanations happen to interest
these historians in particular.
III. History, Philosophy, and the History of Philosophy
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It should be clear that the two positions outlined above have powerful reasons behind them, but
also that they face serious difficulties. Neither one is correct. The correct view is one that
understands the precise role played by cultural factors and philosophical ones in the
interpretation of the classics. In order to see what these roles are, we must introduce some
clarifications.
We have been using the terms ‘history,’ ‘philosophy,’ and ‘history of philosophy’
without any precise idea of what they mean. So let me begin by saying something about these
terms. Once we have a fair idea of the way I propose to use them, then I shall turn to the aims,
both general and specific, of the history of philosophy, and that, I hope, will lead to the
development of a sensible view on the question we are trying to resolve here.
The term ‘history’ is used to mean several things, but for us there are two senses of it that
are important. First, ‘history’ means past events. In this sense, the history of the Roman Empire,
for example, consists of the events associated with the Roman Empire. The other is the
interpretations human beings compose of those events. In this sense, the history of the Roman
Empire consists of the interpretations that historians give of the history of the Roman Empire
understood in the first sense. In this second sense, there is no such a thing as the history of the
Roman Empire, there are only histories of the Roman Empire, such as those written by Gibbon,
Augustine, and Orosius. We might, then, call history in sense one, history1, and history in sense
two, history2.
Histories1 consist of events, but histories2 consist of texts. Some histories2 are written
texts, some are oral texts, and there is no reason why some could not be mental texts. Whether
they are written, oral, or mental texts poses interesting questions, but it is immaterial for the
present discussion. As texts, an essential aim of histories2 is to cause acts of understanding in an
audience. Historians write in order to get their audiences to understand something, even if they
may also have some other aims in mind, such as power, fame, wealth, pleasure, revenge,
emotional release, salvation, atonement, confession, and so on.
Histories2 are concerned with events of various sorts, such as human actions, natural
catastrophes that influence human societies, and so on, but histories2 of philosophy are
concerned only with philosophical events, that is, with philosophy. Now, philosophy can be
understood in a variety of ways, but two in particular stand out: First, as a view, and, second, as
the activity whereby a philosophical view is developed. Historians of philosophy are concerned
with the former. They are concerned, for example, with Descartes’ views about the mind and its
relations to the body or with Suárez’s position on individuation.
Because views are expressed and communicated through texts, it turns out that the
immediate object of study of historians of philosophy is always a text, for that is the only source
they have for the views they seek to study. Descartes’ philosophy is accessible only through the
texts he, or others, wrote or spoke. Unfortunately, although Descartes may have also thought
views which he neither expressed in writing nor speech, we can have no access to them.
Histories2 of philosophy, then, are texts about other texts. They are texts composed by
historians about other texts from the past. Copleston’s History of Philosophy is a text in which he
writes about philosophical texts from the past with the general aim of producing acts of
understanding in relation to those texts in an audience. We read his History and we think certain
thoughts in relation to the texts of Descartes and other historical figures about whom Copleston
writes.
Understood thus, histories2 of philosophy, to which I shall from now on refer simply as
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histories of philosophy, are interpretations. (Gracia, ch. 5) The term ‘interpretation’ is used in the
literature for a variety of things, but there are two senses in particular that are pertinent for us. In
one sense, an interpretation is simply an understanding. To interpret X is to understand X. In
another sense, an interpretation is a text composed of a text which is the object of interpretation-the interpretandum--and another text which is added to it--the interpretans. Together they form
the interpretation. Now, the general aim of an interpretation in this second sense is to cause acts
of understanding in an audience in relation to the interpretandum. But in addition, interpretations
have other, more specific aims. In order to understand these better, interpretations may be
divided into two kinds: textual and contextual.
Textual interpretations can themselves be divided into three sorts in terms of their
function: historical, meaning, and implicative. The aim of the first is to cause in audiences an
understanding of what the author, or the audience contemporaneous with the author, understood
by the text under interpretation. In this case, interpreters try to produce in audiences an
understanding of what authors, or their contemporaneous audiences, understood by the text.
The aim of meaning interpretations is to cause in audiences an understanding of the
meaning of texts, regardless of what the authors and their contemporaneous audiences
understood by them. This aim is predicated on the view that the meanings of texts may not
always be what authors, or their contemporaneous audiences, understood by them.
Finally, the aim of implicative interpretations is to make audiences understand the
implications of the meanings of texts. Again, this pays no attention to what authors and their
contemporaneous audiences may have thought.
Contextual interpretations come in as many varieties as the contexts in which the texts
about which the interpreter aims to cause understanding may be placed. Psychological
interpretations seek to produce understanding of texts based on the consideration of the texts’
relation to psychological factors; cultural interpretations seek to produce understanding in
relation to cultural phenomena; Freudian interpretations look at texts in terms of Freudian
concepts; feminist interpretations do the same in terms of feminist criteria; and so on. Any time a
text is examined in terms of factors which do not have to do with its meaning (either the meaning
as understood by its author and the contemporaneous audience or its meaning understood
independently of what the author and the contemporaneous audience understood) or the
implications of that meaning, we have a contextual interpretation. With these distinctions in
mind, we can turn to the kind of interpretation that the history of philosophy is in order to
establish its aims and determine the interpretation that is appropriate for it.
IV. Cultural and Philosophical Interpretations of the Philosophical Classics
The general aim of the interpretation of the classics is to produce in audiences acts of
understanding in relation to philosophical texts from the past that are considered classic, but that
is not all they are aimed to do. There are also other, more specific aims they may have. Some of
these are consequent upon the fact that interpretations involve texts and some are consequent on
the fact that they also involve relations. For example, an interpreter may want to cause an
understanding of such things as what an author thought a text he or she produced meant, but the
interpreter may also want to cause an understanding of how the views expressed by the text are
related to the views of someone else. Let us call the first “a textual aim” and the second “a
relational aim.”
Among the textual and relational effects that interpreters of the classics may want to
produce in an audience, five are widely accepted: the understanding of a text; the determination
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of what philosophical authors (and their audiences) from the past thought; the identification of
the sources of particular views and the influence of those views on other views; the
determination of the causes that gave rise to particular views; and the learning of a lesson from
the past that can be applied to the future. Now, the question that we have to answer concerns the
best, or the most appropriate, way in which interpreters can accomplish these aims. Should they
employ a cultural method independently of a philosophical one? Should they employ a
philosophical method independently of a cultural one? Or should they employ both methods, and,
if this is the way, how should these methods be combined and what are their respective roles?
Before we can answer these questions we should say something about the kind of
explanation that characterizes the cultural and the philosophical methods. Under cultural I have
included the properly cultural as well as the social, political, and biographical. A cultural method,
as understood here, is one that includes reference to factors such as cultural traits properly
speaking, but also political conditions, biographical events, and so on. On the contrary, a
philosophical method excludes reference to these and concentrates on philosophical factors.
These philosophical factors are nothing other than philosophical views and arguments as well as
their interrelations. A culturalist might, for example, refer to the fact that a philosopher was part
of a society in which certain topics were taboo whereas others were encouraged. And something
similar could be said about sociologists and political scientists. A philosopher, on the contrary,
will be interested in the relation between certain philosophical views and other views, whether
they are compatible or not, and so on. Now let us look at how these methods can be used to
accomplish the specific aims of the history of philosophy identified earlier.
A. Understanding a Text
One of the aims of the interpretation of the philosophical classics is to produce the
understanding of texts. By understanding a text one may have in mind any one of the three aims
that were listed under textual interpretation. For some, to understand texts is to understand what
the authors or their contemporaneous audiences understood by them, because they hold that the
author’s meaning or the author’s contemporaneous audience’s meaning is the same as the text’s
meaning. If one does not hold this view, then it is possible to hold that the understanding of a
text may go beyond what the author or the contemporaneous audience understood. And, of
course, one sometimes also has in mind understanding the implications of the meaning of texts
that may or may not have been evident to the authors of the texts or their audiences.
Now, the question that we seek to answer is whether cultural analyses, philosophical
analyses, or both are needed to carry out this aim successfully. The answer is that even a cursory
consideration of the situation indicates that philosophical analysis is essential to this enterprise
whereas cultural analysis is not, although the latter might be very helpful and even factually
necessary for the task. Let me explain.
If the aim we are discussing consists in making an audience understand what an author
thought the meaning of a text he or she produced is, and such an understanding is to be a
philosophical one, then the understanding must be based on the awareness of the logical relations
among the views the author thought are expressed by the text. To understand the philosophy
expressed by the text is fundamentally to understand how the views it expresses are logically
related to each other. This is why philosophy is essential for this task, for it is only through
philosophy that the interpreter can establish the logical relations among views. Cultural analysis,
on the other hand, is not essential to the extent that it is logically possible to understand the
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logical relations among the views expressed by a text without understanding the cultural factors
that may have contributed to their formulation.
Still, culture is useful, and in certain cases factually necessary, to the task of the
interpreter for at least four reasons. First, philosophical texts are composed of language and
language is a cultural phenomenon for the knowledge of which we need to take into
interpretation the culture that produced it. Second, the very concepts expressed by a text are
developed by, or at least based on, widely accepted concepts current in the culture in which the
authors of those texts lived, so that in order to grasp them one must in some cases grasp the
cultural conditions under which they arose. Third, cultural factors do influence, and often
determine, the views authors express in texts and, therefore, can aid in understanding those views.
And, finally, as Peckhaus points out, cultural research can provide evidence for what an author
knew or could have known and thus help to explain gaps in a philosophical text.14
We might say, then, that philosophy is essential for the understanding of the views
expressed in a philosophical text, and that culture is not, although culture is useful for this task
and may even be factually necessary insofar as, without knowledge of it, the task of the
interpreter may be impossible. Culture functions as a handmaiden, a helper to philosophy in the
composition of the interpretation. It helps the interpreter figure out the meaning of words, the
limits of concepts, and the aims of an author in producing a text, all propaedeutic tasks to
establishing the logical relations among the views expressed by the text.
Let me put it this way. The interpreter wants to cause an understanding of a text T in an
audience. To do this, the interpreter has to say that T means M, say. This involves the
explanation of the relations among the concepts expressed in T, including the analysis of
arguments and views, all of which constitutes a philosophical interpretation. But in order to
produce this interpretation, the interpreter also has to know, for example, how the words in T
were used at the time in which T was produced, the semantic import of certain syntactical
arrangements, and so on. This contextual knowledge is not part of the philosophical
interpretation properly speaking, but it helps to produce it.
B. Understanding Authors and Their Contemporaneous Audiences
A second aim of an interpretation is to produce an understanding of authors and their
audiences. Substantial differences exist, however, between understanding texts on the one hand,
even when the understanding in question is that which the authors and contemporaneous
audiences of the texts had, and understanding authors and their contemporaneous audiences on
the other. The first task is quite restricted, centered on the texts, and restricted to the texts.
Understanding authors and audiences is quite a different matter, for the views to be understood in
the latter case go beyond those expressed by the texts, indeed they may go beyond those
expressed by all the texts that an author may have produced. Understanding authors and their
contemporaneous audiences involves seeing them as wholes, considering all the views they
expressed and those that they may not have even expressed, and considering authors and
audiences in various contexts that help to put their thought in perspective. Clearly, then, the
understanding of authors and their contemporaneous audiences is contextual to a degree that
understanding texts may not be and, therefore, the interpretation the interpreter seeks to produce
must likewise be contextual. The question for us is whether the context in question is such that it
requires cultural interpretations, that is, whether the authors of the philosophical classics and
their contemporaneous audiences are to be seen in a cultural, rather than a philosophical context.
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Much of what was said before concerning the role culture plays in understanding texts
can be repeated here. But there is more to it than that, because the views of authors and their
audiences in this case are not restricted to those expressed by the authors in texts. For this reason,
the interpreter must use other evidence to figure out what those views must have been and that
evidence is often found in the authors’ and audiences’ cultural context. Cultural nterpretations,
then, play a particularly important role in the understanding of authors and their
contemporaneous audiences.
C. Determining Sources and Influences
A third aim of interpreters of the philosophical classics may be to determine sources and
influences. In principle we should distinguish between the sources and influences of a text and
the sources and influences of the philosophical thought of an author, as well as between sources
and influences themselves. But in fact we can dispense with these distinctions for our purposes.
Concerning an author, we should consider at least two cases for purposes of illustration.
In one case, for example, whether a particular author A1 borrowed view P1 from author A2, who
also held view P1. In another case, interpreters want to explain how an author A1 derived view P1
from view P2 which was held by A2. Both cases require interpreters to engage in
nonphilosophical considerations that involve language and other cultural factors. Consider the
case of an author whose native tongue is different from that of the author from whom she is
supposed to have borrowed or derived a view. Obviously, it is important to know whether the
alleged borrower knew the language of the earlier author or not, or whether she had access only
to a translation of the work where the view was propounded. These considerations are not
philosophical insofar as they do not involve logical relations among views, but they are
nonetheless important for the interpretive task.
It should not be forgotten, however, that even more important than explaining this is
explaining how the views in question are logically related. Suppose that the views are not
expressed in exactly equivalent language, or that they are so expressed that one looks like the
logical consequence of the other. In order to explain how in fact this is so, interpreters must
establish the logical relations among views, and this makes philosophy of the essence for their
task.
D. Identifying Causes
The fourth aim consists in identifying the causes that give rise to philosophical views or,
as Collins puts it, “what determines the creativity of intellectuals and the topics they choose.”15
This is the core of a philosophical interpretation, for the core of all interpretation is the
explanation of why something occurred and the why something occurred is what we generally
identify as the causes of it. A full interpretation must include the description of the causes that
prompted historical events. For a philosophicxal interpretation, this explanation involves
establishing the causes that gave rise to the views of particular authors at particular times.
It is here that the greatest disagreement occurs concerning interpretation, for in most
cases different causal analyses can in principle be given of the same fact and different
interpreters favor different approaches. In answering the question, Why did author A hold P?, a
culturalist, for example, will claim that it is essential to refer to the cultural context where A
proposed P. The argument for this is that philosophy is a cultural phenomenon and therefore
requires a cultural explanation. In order to understand why A held P it is necessary to know the
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surrounding cultural context and to see how that context relates to A and to P.
These and other types of contextual interpretations are considered essential for the
explanation of the views philosophers from the past held by those who favor a cunturalist
approach to the interpretation of the classics. Understanding the philosophical past requires
understanding the cultural causes that surrounded the subjects in question and which, it is argued,
are responsible to a large extent, if not exclusively, for those views. A purely philosophical
explanation of why philosophical views are held is not adequate and in fact, according to many
of those who favor cultural explanations, inaccurate. For the real reasons why these views are
held have often nothing to do with their philosophical worth and the soundness of the arguments
that are given in their favor. The real reasons they are held is that they respond to cultural biases
and pressures.
But are nonphilosophical explanations relevant to the interpretation of the philosophical
classics? Is the interpreter searching for causal analyses that explain why A held P on the basis of
cultural phenomena? Or is the interpreter searching for something else? Those interpreters who
seek to provide philosophical interpretations answer yes to the last question. Cultural explanation
is not the kind of explanation appropriate in philosophy because it does not explain why the
authors in question thought they held their views. Note that I said “thought,” for in fact it may be
that the cause A held P is that A belonged to a particular culture, or a particular religion, or for
that matter that he had certain sexual preferences or a particular hormonal imbalance. Peckhaus
is right when he says that “Philosophical work is not only determined by the progress in the
thoughts of the working philosophers but also by the heuristic which they follow, which may,
however, not be explicitly formulated. It is determined by their tacit knowledge, accepted at their
time, or by external factors to autonomous thinking like the discussion within the discipline or
the reception of preceding or competing conceptions of treating a topic.”16 The interpreter of the
philosophical classics qua interpreter of philosophy, however, is not interested in those causes
but rather in the philosophical reasons why A held P. And this is so because those are the factors
that would have, should have, or actually impressed, A when A was acting as a philosopher.
The claims philosophers make fall largely into three groups: logical claims, ontological
claims, and evaluative claims. Logical claims concern the relation between concepts or views. To
say that P implies Q is a logical claim. Ontological claims concern the ways things are: To say
that X is Y or that X exists are claims of this sort. And evaluative claims concern value. To say
that X is better than Y is an evaluative claim. Now, the point I want to stress is that in order to
understand why a philosopher made a logical, ontological, or evaluative claim is essential to
refer to the bonafide philosophical reasons the author gave for them, the effectiveness of those
reasons, and the truth value of the claim. To do this involves no cultural interpretation, although
the particular choice of reasons used by the author to support his or her claim could be explained
culturally.
Consider the following situation: An interpreter wants to explain why author A held Q.
Many explanations are possible, but let us consider three:
1.
A held Q because:
a. A knew that P → Q, and
b. A knew that P, and
c. A knew that [(P → Q).P] → Q.
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2.
A held Q because:
a. A was part of culture C, and
b. C encouraged belief in Q.
3.
A held Q because:
a. A wanted to get X, and
b. Holding Q was a way of getting X.
The differences between these three explanations of why A held Q should be quite clear.
Interpretation 1 reveals the relations between A’s view that Q and other of A’s views;
interpretation 2 reveals the relations between A’s view that Q and the culture of which A was a
part; and interpretation 3 reveals the relation between A’s view that Q and A’s wants. Now, it is
my contention that interpreters of the philosophical classics should be searching for
interpretations of the first type, for ultimately they want to see the philosophical reasons that
stand behind the philosophical views of the classics.
Philosophy is supposed to be a conscious, deliberate activity, the search for views
supported by reasons. To ignore the reasons that philosophers claim determine their views,
whether in fact they do or do not, in favor of causes that they do not acknowledge, is to miss an
essential aspect of the enterprise in question. The problem with exclusively cultural
interpretations of the philosophical classics is not that they are not philosophical, but that they
are inaccurate, for they neglect to give proper weight to factors that philosophers claim are most
important for their views. In doing so, they fail to provide a proper explanation of philosophical
facts.
Consider the case of a philosopher like Wittgenstein. Bloor argues that Wittgenstein’s
conservative views are better understood in terms of the conservative views of the society in
which he lived.17 Bloor’s argument is not just that Wittgenstein shared conservative views with
the society in which he lived, but also that Wittgenstein held those views because he was a
member of that society (something like interpretation 2 above). Now, let us assume that this is
true, although the explanatory jump here is rather large and should be obvious (there are all sorts
of assumptions about it that are not made explicit or defended). Still, Bloor’s explanation misses
the most important element for anyone who wants to understand Wittgenstein’s philosophy,
namely: the reasons Wittgenstein gave for holding the views he held. Now, one can argue that
those reasons were not in fact the causes why he held those views. And one can argue further
that those reasons were mere rationalizations, or that they were ideological, or whatever. But the
fact is that they were reasons given by Wittgenstein, and given as philosophical reasons, and
interpreters of philosophy must pay attention to them when they are trying to present an
interpretation that explains why the views in question were held. The reasons must be considered
and judged for the understanding of the philosophical thought of Wittgenstein to be complete or
even intelligible.
Unfortunately, this fact does not seem to impress many of those who favor cultural
interpretations. Indeed, some go so far as to offer explanations that contradict the author’s
explicitly stated views. For example, Chimisso argues that Bachelard has been made into a
mythical figure, by a cadre of followers from diverse backgrounds, through the manipulation of
various symbols available to the culture, a cadre who view this constructed image of Bachelard
as essential to the understanding of his significance.18 This, she accurately notes, contrasts with
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Bachelard’s own explicit views, for he carefully separated the scientific, rational, objective, and
anti-mythical from the biographical, imaginative, social, subjective, and mythical. Yet, in a
paradoxical move characteristic of cultural interpretations, Chimisso concludes that Bachelard
himself contributed to this myth by creating a myth when speaking of the rational and
disinterested scientist: “the myth of the absence of myth.” Now, since this conclusion contradicts
Bachelard’s explicit views, what help can it give us in understanding Bachelard himself, from his
own point of view, as it were? Does it help us see what Bachelard saw or thought he saw? Does
it help us understand how, on his own grounds, he arrived at the conclusions to which he arrived?
Does it aid us in grasping the relations between his views and the reasons he gave for them? The
cultural interpretation Chimisso gives does help us understand how others saw Bachelard and
why he has become a kind of cult figure, but it does not help us understand Bachelard’s
philosophy. And understanding Bachelard’s philosophy is essential for the interpreter of
philosophy.
The neglect of arguments and reasons explicitly offered by philosophers for their views
seems often capricious and based on the prejudices of culturalists, who often do not appear to
understand the philosophical modus operandi. Consider the case of John Duns Scotus’s views on
individuation. His discussion of this topic is contained in the Opus Oxoniense (II, dist. 3, part 1,
qq. 1-6) and covers more than sixty pages which are devoted almost entirely to tightly
constructed arguments against views he opposes and for the view he supports. The issue that
concerns him is the cause or principle of individuation, that is, what makes something individual
(e.g., this cat) as opposed to universal (e.g., cat). Scotus considers and rejects all the views of his
predecessors: individuation by form, matter, accidents, existence, and so on. He charges that
these views are inadequate to explain what makes something individual and proposes that the
principle of individuation is something sui generis, a decharacterized formality he called, for
lack of a better name, haecceitas (i.e., thisness). Now, a typical argument of Scotus against the
views he rejects is that they are contradictory. For example, he argues thus against accidental
views of individuation: An accidental view of individuation relies on the distinction between
substance and accident and the view that accidents are ontologically dependent on substance. But
the view that accidents individuate implies that substance depends ontologically on accidents, for
the individuality of the substance is due to the accidents. Therefore, the accidental view of
individuation is contradictory. (Q. 4)
Yet, the cultural historian would have us believe that we should take Scotus’s enormous
argumentative effort with skepticism and concentrate rather on factors such as the power struggle
between religious orders in the university, the hostilities between Franciscan Spirituals and those
opposed to them, the rivalry between the Papacy and secular governments, and other similar
phenomena of the later Middle Ages. The correct explanation of Scotus’s view on individuation,
from the cultural perspective, does not consist in the reasons he gave for it, but rather in the fact,
for example, that he was a Franciscan and wanted to uphold the Order’s traditional doctrines. (Of
course, this does not explain why Scotus went against traditional Franciscan doctrines many
times.) The real reason he rejected an accidental view of individuation is not that such a view
was contradictory within the Aristotelian framework he largely accepted, but rather some other
reason that had to do with medieval society or his own particular situation.
Does this make sense? Shouldn’t an interpreter concentrate on what actually happened,
the reasons Scotus in fact gave for his views, rather than second-guessing him in terms of
imprecise and vague claims about “cultural” factors whose connection with his views are highly
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speculative and based on certain methodological assumptions? And what do all these factors
really have to do with Scotus’s theory of haecceitas? I challenge cultural historians to explain
culturally, on purely cultural grounds, why Scotus held haecceitas rather than accidents, for
example, to be the principle of individuation. When I see that done in a credible way, I will begin
to take more seriously the claims of cultural interpreters of philosophy.
But there is even more than this. For, as a philosopher, even if the culturalist were
successful in explaining that Scotus in fact rejected an accidental principle of individuation
because of some cultural factor, this would not make clear the inconsistency he said he saw in
the views he criticized. As an interpreter of philosophy, that is, as an interpreter of philosophical
views and of the reasons given for holding those views, I need to understand the inconsistency
Scotus saw. And this inconsistency is not revealed to me by contextual analyses, but rather by an
investigation into the relations among ideas.
The cultural point of view, if carried to its logical conclusion, has even more alarming
consequences. Indeed, an exclusively cultural point of view implies that the history of
philosophy is a grandiose hoax and that philosophers are malicious hypocrites or stupid dupes,
for their views are not held because of the philosophical value they see in them and the reasons
they explicitly give for them. Well, perhaps this is so in some, or perhaps in many, cases, but it
hardly justifies the conception of the history of philosophy as a whole in exclusively, or even
primarily, cultural terms. I refuse to believe that Scotus was a hypocrite or a dupe because I
know I am neither when I work in philosophy, although perhaps this statement will be cited by a
culturalist as proof that I am, indeed, a dupe.
Moreover, if culturalists are right about the philosophical past, then their claims should
apply also to the present and future. This means that philosophers either knowingly deceive their
audiences or unknowingly deceive themselves. Those who knowingly deceive their audiences do
so because they know well that they hold their views not on the basis of the reasons they give,
but on cultural grounds, which means that the very use of their reasons is rhetorical and
deceptive. Surely these are to be condemned for their hypocrisy. And those who unknowingly
deceive themselves do so because they cannot help it; they are too stupid to realize the game they
play (or perhaps better, the game that is played with them). Surely, these are to be pitied. In
either case, if culturalists are right, they have certainly ended philosophy as the world has known
it. But this, of course, is preposterous, which brings me to the last aim: learning from the past.
E. Learning from the Past
The last aim of interpretation of the philosophical classics to which I shall refer is
learning from the past. In Brentano’s well-turned phrase, “The ultimate aim of the history of
philosophy must always be the exposition of truth.”19 This is a constant reason that historians
identify for engaging in historiography. I am not going to question whether in fact this is a
bonafide reason or even whether it is an acceptable one. For my purposes, it suffices to point out
that it is frequently given and that the same reason can be applied to specialized histories as well.
One of the aims of the history of science is to learn from past achievements and mistakes. And
the same should apply to philosophy. One of the aims of the history of philosophy is to teach us
to do philosophy better.
If we accept this, then we must also grant that the history of philosophy must be done in
such a way that we can learn from doing it. But then, we may ask, what can we learn about doing
philosophy from cultural interpretations? One thing we can learn, of course, is to be on our guard
13
against rationalizations based on cultural pressures. Understanding that cultural forces have an
impact on what we do as philosophers can help us be more deliberate and conscious of how and
why we think the way we do, and to avoid claims that are not based on philosophical reasons.
Moreover, the cultural interpretation of the history of philosophy can make us more honest and
modest philosophers by bringing to our attention the limitations of our procedures.
All this is useful, but none of it is a positive contribution to the philosophical task, for we
cannot learn from cultural analyses how to do philosophy, we can only learn how not to do it.
Only philosophy can help us learn how to do philosophy. This is another reason why the history
of philosophy must be done philosophically and why cultural analyses do not have the same
interest for philosophers that philosophical analyses of the history of philosophy. The
philosophical historian of philosophy, you see, must engage in judgments of value, and these
judgments of value are the ones that serve the philosopher. By contrast, the culturalist cannot,
qua culturalist, make judgments of philosophical value. Culturalists can only describe the
cultural factors that give rise to a view, but they cannot in good conscience, as culturalists, tell us
whether a view is good or bad, or whether an argument offered in its favor is sound or not. Only
the philosopher can do this. Therefore, only the philosopher who does the history of philosophy
philosophically can truly help an audience learn from the philosophical past.
V. Answer to the Arguments for and against Cultural Interpretations
What I have said means that I find value in some of the arguments offered earlier in favor of
cultural interpretations as well as in some of the arguments offered against their use. It also
means that my position will not satisfy ideological purists on either side.
With respect to the arguments in favor of cultural interpretations of the philosophical
classics, I agree, first, that the reasons some authors hold certain views have often very little to
do with the arguments they give and can be traced to cultural factors of various sorts. But I
disagree that, because of this, such reasons are essential to the interpretation. There is no logical
requirement to refer to them in the interpretation of philosophical views, although they can be
very helpful in ways I have already stated.
I also agree that there is no clearly demarcated, univocal view of philosophy throughout
history, whether in the East or the West. Indeed, philosophy appears to be both an honorific and
a derogatory term at different times and places, and this obviously depends on what cultures have
taken philosophy to be. Yet, I claim there is at least a core to what is called philosophy that is
shared by most philosophers and this core, supported by a chain of historical connections, is
sufficient to distinguish philosophy from cultural studies. Of course, some culturalists argue that
there is no such distinction, but since cultural studies are a rather new comer in the chart of
human disciplines, the burden of proof is on those who argue against its distinction from
philosophy.
Finally, it is obvious that philosophical views and reasons are the result of cultural beings
engaged in cutural relations. To deny this would be absurd. But this does not entail that
philosophical views and reasons are not related in noncultural ways. Cultural historians go too
far when they try to reduce logical relations to cultural ones.
The arguments given against cultural interpretations also go to extremes. It is true that
there is considerable latitude on what cultural historians consider cultural explanations, but this
certainly does not preclude the possibility of a common core to all cultural explanations. Nor
does the vagueness and generality of some cultural interpretations imply that all of them are or
must be so.
14
With respect to the issue of interest, it should be enough to say that, as long as cultural
interpretations may play a useful role in the history of philosophy, they are to be regarded as
interesting to the historian of philosophy. And indeed, I have argued that they do, although the
role they have is restricted and nonessential.
I agree entirely with the third and fourth arguments given earlier against the use of
cultural interpretations in the history of philosophy, but these arguments affect only views
that either entirely exclude philosophical ones or try to blur the distinction between cultural
studies and philosophy. For reasons I have already stated, I disagree with both strategies. A
purely cultural interpretation of the history of philosophy is useless and inaccurate. And the
attempt to blur the distinction between cultural studies and philosophy by reducing philosophy to
cultural studies is as misguided as that of reducing cultural studies to philosophy. Both attempts
beg the question and do not do justice to the disciplines or their histories.
The last argument against cultural interpretations applies only to cultural historians who
try to reduce all explanations to cultural ones and to disenfranchise any interpretation that is not
cultural. I agree with this argument.
VI. Conclusion
It should be clear that cultural analyses have a place in histories of philosophy and therefore in
the interpretation of the philosophical classics. Nonetheless, we must acknowledge that the role
of such analyses is propaedeutic and ancillary. Cultural analyses are useful in that they help
determine the views expressed in texts, the views of authors and audiences, and the influences
and sources of those views. Moreover, in some cases such analyses may even be factually
necessary insofar as only through them can we have access to certain views and explain why
they have been held or entertained when they are contradictory, false, or odd. This is the role
cultural interpretations should appropriately play, but to extend such a role beyond these
parameters and give cultural analyses priority over philosophical ones, or even to place them at
the same level as philosophical ones, is a serious mistake that leads to inaccurate and useless
interpretations.
The mistake of those who inordinately favor cultural interpretations of philosophy is
threefold: they mistake the proper role of cultural explanations; they improperly privilege
cultural explanations over others; and they tend to forget the essential role of philosophical
explanations in the interpretation of philosophy. These mistakes are founded on a
misunderstanding of the natures of philosophy and culture.
In short, I still maintain, as I did in Philosophy and Its History, that the history of
philosophy must be done philosophically, but this does not preclude a place for cultural
interpretations in it as long as such interpretations, first, do not take the place of philosophical
ones and, second, are given the place they ought to have in the history of philosophy.
Consequently, even though culture is relevant for the interpretation fo the philosophical classics
East and West, it is philosophy that is indispensable and should lead the way. Moreover, it is not
in the culture, but in philosophy, that the best prospect for communication should be found.
State University of New York, Buffalo
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1. There are echoes of this argument in articles by Cristina Chimisso, Randall Collins, and
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Knowledge.
2.
3.
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