Book Review: John Dewey’s “Reconstruction in Philosophy”

by Miles Raymer

Dewey

John Dewey is my intellectual hero, so taking up one of his works is always a distinct pleasure for me.  There is no other thinker at this point in my life who can challenge and delight me the way Dewey does; his philosophy is deeply contemplative but also distinctly practical, and his insights reflect the intellectual milieu of his particular moment in time (early 20th century) while also addressing perennial problems that hamper human communities regardless of their place in history.

Reconstruction in Philosophy is not one of Dewey’s finest or most famous works.  It is an illuminating if rather cursory snapshot of Dewey’s post-WWI, pre-WWII ideas about the future of philosophy.  As found in his other works, Dewey sees the project of reconstructing philosophy as largely a matter of breaking down traditional barriers between abstract and practical knowledge.  His tireless efforts to demonstrate the interpenetration between philosophical theory and concrete action, as well as his unequivocal rejection of philosophy’s historical search for Absolute Truth, reveal Dewey as a figure both rooted in and well ahead of his time.

In order for the practice of philosophy to play an active role in shaping healthy human communities, it must overcome what Dewey perceives as the failings of the traditional contemplative life: “Historic intellectualism, the spectator view of knowledge, is a purely compensatory doctrine which men of an intellectual turn have built up to console themselves for the actual and social impotency of the calling of thought to which they are devoted” (117).  This “impotency” springs from a deep misunderstanding of how human problems arise.  Traditional philosophy has viewed problems as a product of our inability to grasp the true nature of things, to achieve a state of understanding so all-encompassing that it stands outside the world, judging from a privileged perspective of Pure Reason.  Conversely, Dewey argues that problems arise from the complex relationship between fluctuating environmental conditions, the basic needs and desires of human communities, and the natural biases of individuals.  This is hardly a controversial claim today, but we do well to remind ourselves that this is so precisely because of Dewey and other like-minded thinkers.

If philosophy’s proper role is not to grasp any Absolute Truth, then what is it?  Dewey posits philosophy as our best tool for reconstructing human experience.  The idea of what constitutes “reconstructed experience” is an intentionally broad one; it includes myriad forms of narrative play and human labor through which “The concrete environment is transformed in the desired direction” (120-1).  Reconstructed experience is no mere distraction or salve to help humans bear quotidian stress, but the result of accumulated knowledge and energy with which we intelligently go to work reshaping the world according to desire.  In this sense, philosophy is impossible to pursue without engagement with scientific findings and applied skills.  Because scientific understanding and methods for establishing and maintaining human communities are always implemented in particular conditions and subject to change over time, philosophy must play the role of analyzing and distinguishing between better and worse perspectives and modes of accomplishment, thereby pointing the way forward when the proper path seems unclear: “The prime function of philosophy is that of rationalizing the possibilities of experience, especially collective human experience” (122, emphasis his).

In a modern context, the realization of Dewey’s vision can be understood in part as the summation of human knowledge and aspirations that have become accessible through a wide variety of media.  Anyone engaged in honest inquiry into ways of living successfully, as well as the recording and dissemination of lessons learned or skills acquired (creating opportunities for others to reconstruct experience in their own fashions), can play a meaningful role in philosophical exploration.  This assertion––that the practice of philosophy can be broadened to include almost anyone––is perhaps Dewey’s most radical and hopeful claim.  It reformulates our notions about who is qualified to contribute to philosophical discourse, and prompts us to judge the value of human institutions and associations by the ways in which they hinder or promote the flourishing of experiential reconstruction, or, as Dewey puts it:  “What sort of individuals are created?” (198).

A crucial element of Dewey’s reconstruction is the application of scientific principles to our understanding of moral and social life.  I suspect he’d be pleased to learn that, nearly a century on, that process is well under way.  However, it has proved considerably more difficult than Dewey anticipated, and the question of how to properly apply scientific thinking to aspects of human life not easily assessed through quantitative means is still very much a live one.  Dewey does not seem to presage the problem of interpretation that allows for divergent conclusions drawn from a single set of data, nor does he adequately apply the confounding effect of psychological biases (of which he is well aware) to the reality that scientific data is collected, interpreted, reported and applied by fallible individuals.  This may become less true as methods for data collection and processing become increasingly automated, but that will not emancipate us from a scientific landscape colored by the flaws and virtues of its human inhabitants.

Reconstruction in Philosophy also suffers from a somewhat contradictory interpretation of freedom.  While Dewey’s mantra that freedom is synonymous with knowledge is all to the good, he also glosses over potential conflicts between individual and collective freedom: “Since society can develop only as new resources are put at its disposal, it is absurd to suppose that freedom has positive significance for individuality but negative meaning for social interests” (208).  This position is galling given that Dewey lived through the first Gilded Age, and stings with even greater potency now that 21st century citizens are living through a second.  History has made clear that combinatorial instantiations of human will (states, corporations, unions, religions, etc.) often reach a point of critical mass after which their actions reflect the collective’s self-perpetuating interests, which are no longer necessarily consonant with the interests of its constituents.  Individuals, for their part, are also prone to habitual behaviors that are not necessarily conducive to the furtherance of communal goods.

Freedoms granted to certain individuals and groups can and do have concretely negative consequences for others.  The zero-sum game may not be the only game in town, but it is quite possible for freedoms to have “positive significance for individuality but negative meaning for social interests.”  Dewey is correct that maximization of individual freedom is crucial to the maintenance of vibrant human communities, but offers little insight about how and at what point such freedoms ought to be checked to preserve the public good.  The extent to which institutions ought to be restrained in order to preserve individual liberties is also unclear.  Dewey would no doubt argue that these matters can be resolved only by analyzing the particulars of a given situation––a sincere if rather unsatisfactory rejoinder.  However, as these questions comprise what is perhaps the single most difficult problem of modern governance, it is uncharitable to hold Dewey responsible for their resolution.

This is an excellent read for anyone seeking to deepen his or her knowledge of Dewey’s corpus, but I’d recommend Human Nature and Conduct––a longer and more comprehensive text––for those new to him.  Dewey is a progressive of the highest order, and his thinking is shot through with the conviction not only that human life is improving and improvable, but that to take part in this ameliorative process despite tremendous obstacles is amongst our highest callings.  Reconstruction in Philosophy is special to me insofar as it illuminates and reinvigorates my personal transition from academic pursuits to more mundane and practical ones.  In my continuing search for ways to positively transform my environment, I strive to never lose sight of the sublime dance between thought and action––a dance Dewey understood most profoundly.

Rating: 8/10