Karl Popper: Critical Appraisals, edited with Graham Macdonald, 2004 PDF

Preview

Summary

Introduction Philip Catton and Graham Macdonald University of Canterbury, New Zealand Sir Karl Popper’s work has been amongst the most controversial, and influential, in 20th century philosophy. Born 28 July 1902 in Vienna to parents Simon and Jenny, Jews who converted to Lutheranism in 19001, Poppe...

Description

Introduction Philip Catton and Graham Macdonald University of Canterbury, New Zealand

Sir Karl Popper’s work has been amongst the most controversial, and influential, in 20th century philosophy. Born 28 July 1902 in Vienna to parents Simon and Jenny, Jews who converted to Lutheranism in 19001, Popper made his impact on the German-speaking philosophical world with the publication of Logik der Forschung in 1934. It was received by his peers with both acclaim and criticism.2 Erkenntnis had it reviewed by two philosophers whose views could hardly have been more different. Hans Reichenbach wrote: The results of this book appear to me completely untenable. … I cannot understand how Popper could possibly believe that with respect to the problem of induction his investigations mean even the slightest advance … whilst Rudolf Carnap wrote that Popper’s book was … one of the most important contemporary works in the field of the logic of science. The English translation (by Popper, with the assistance of Julius and Ian Freed) produced a somewhat similar reaction. Karl Mendelssohn thought The Logic of Scientific Discovery was laborious and complicated reading. In fact, I did not immediately notice that in my review copy 16 pages were missing… . Long and detailed discussion culminates in the well-known truism that you can never prove an effect to be non-existent. (New Scientist.)

1

For a comprehensive intellectual biography of Popper from 1902 to 1945, see Hacohen 2000. The third impression of The Logic of Scientific Discovery, which was published by Hutchinson, is unusual in that it includes on the dust-cover both praise and criticism of the work. All of the appraisals reported in the present paragraph appeared there. (See Popper 1959.) 2

Yet at the same time Richard Wollheim enthused that Popper had produced one of the most important philosophical works of our century … a masterpiece of lucidity … . [B]oldness of design and … of execution place this work amongst the best and greatest of its age. (The Observer.) These contrasting comments are typical of the divergent reactions to Popper’s philosophy throughout his life. Some have hailed him as the most important philosopher of the twentieth century, others think of his contribution as constituting merely a footnote to the developments in positivist and neo-positivist philosophy of science. Over against this latter estimation, probably held more in the United States than in Europe, stand the following facts. The idea that for a discipline to be scientific its hypotheses and theories have to be falsifiable has been immensely influential, particularly amongst scientists themselves. One has only to read the account Sir John Eccles gives of his path-breaking experimental work on inhibitory and excitatory synaptic action to find something very rare, a philosopher’s methodological advice influencing empirical research (Eccles 1982). The effect that the accusation “Unfalsifiable!” has had on whole disciplines has been immense — and for the most part salutary. It is arguable that psychoanalysis has never recovered. The related idea that the informational content of a hypothesis is one of its central virtues has also been influential, at the very least as an essential corrective to the positivist emphasis on confirmation, this emphasis tending to lower the informational content of hypotheses. And Popper’s work on the propensity interpretation of probability has been widely discussed and debated, with its proper place within the field of interpretations of probablility still undecided. Again, Popper’s political philosophy has been valued less amongst political philosophers than politicians. The appeal to freedom in an open society, and what was taken to be an associated individualism, resonated with some conservative

politicians, who perhaps mistook Popper’s vehement anti-collectivism for support for their own “privatising” preferences. Whether or not this is the correct way to read his political thought is highly debatable — his plea for “small-scale” social engineering by no means rules out a fairly significant role for the state to play. (There has also been a tendency to conflate, and confuse, Popper’s views with those of his more antistatist friend Hayek, a tendency only recently being countered by more discerning analyses — see especially Simkin 1993, Appendix 2.) Popper’s political philosophy developed against the background of two major political and social catastrophes, fascist Germany and the communist Soviet Union, and it is perhaps no accident that its influence has been most felt in Eastern Europe. Here once more we find Popper’s thought having a surprising impact, given that philosophers overall have been remarkably uninfluential in shaping political events. Most of the papers in this volume were delivered at a conference celebrating the centenary of Karl Popper’s birth. The idea behind the conference was to use the centenary as an occasion to critically assess some of the central features of Popper’s philosophy. The conference was held in Christchurch, New Zealand, where Popper had been a lecturer in philosophy from 1937 to 1945, and where he completed two of his major works, The Poverty of Historicism and the two volumes of The Open Society and Its Enemies. In the first part of this introduction we would like to briefly re-appraise the significance of this time in Popper’s life. Then in the second part we will briefly discuss this volume’s contents.

Popper in New Zealand In many ways this period may well have been the most productive, as well as the happiest, of Popper’s life. It may seem strange to say this given the widespread

view that Popper’s time in New Zealand was one in which he was out of touch with what was going on in the philosophical world. In Karl Popper: The Formative Years, Malachi Hacohen’s magisterial biography of Popper (which finishes when Popper leaves New Zealand), Chapter 8 is titled “Social Science in Exile 1938-9” (Hacohen 2000). Stefano Gattei, reviewing this book, talks of “Popper’s exile to New Zealand”: Then Popper went to his New Zealand exile, and virtually disappeared, out of touch and influence. (Gattei 2001.) In their acclaimed book Wittgenstein’s Poker Edmonds and Eidenow sarcastically comment that in 1937 Popper took up his first full-time lectureship — in New Zealand, hardly the beating heart of philosophy. (Edmonds and Eidenow 2001, p. 211.)3 One gets the impression that the time spent in New Zealand was both miserable and an unfortunate break in Popper’s philosophical career. Edmonds and Eidenow suggest (2000, p. 218): … if he had gone to England in 1937, he would not have spent some of his most productive years outside the mainstream of philosophy. He would have had the chance to establish himself academically — and to work and debate alongside Wittgenstein… . Popper himself gives some credence to this treatment of that time. Had he gone to Cambridge, he remarked to Michael Nedo, Wittgenstein and his school would have been eclipsed. (Ibid.) There is, of course, some truth in this view. Hacohen (2000, p. 342) reports a letter from Popper to Kaufmann reading: We live here a life without a trace of external events. You have no idea how physical distance, something rather abstract, becomes profoundly and terribly concrete here in New Zealand … 3

See also Adam Gopnik, who writes (Gopnik 2002, p. 90): “In exile in New Zealand in the forties, Popper gave this insight [science wasn’t the name for knowledge that had been proved true; it was the name for guesses that could be proved false] a surprising twist in the greatest of his books, The Open Society and Its Enemies.”

and that Hennie suggested New Zealand was “half way to the moon” (Hacohen 2000, p. 343). And any feeling of exile may well have been exacerbated by Popper’s poor working conditions. He was given a remarkably heavy lecturing load, being the only full-time philosopher in Canterbury University College. By the time he left Popper had, single-handed, delivered the following lecture courses: Logic, Ethics, History of Philosophy, Introduction to Philosophy, and Moral Philosophy. Moreover he had supervised research work on: Bacon’s Theory of Science, Kant’s Criticism of Theism, Spinoza’s Political Philosophy, and Bergson’s Theory of Intuition and Change. In addition, a friend, Colin Simkin, reports that Popper’s “office” was unsuitable for much philosophical thought, it being “a small room in a ramshackle wooden building above a carpenter’s shop where a buzzsaw was often in operation” (Simkin 1993, p. 184, fn. 3). Popper also complained to the University authorities that, despite the number of philosophy students doubling since his appointment in 1937, requests for increased assistance had been turned down, that he had been forbidden to ask the departmental student assistants for help (permission was granted after he had accepted the position at L.S.E.), and that he had a lower salary than any other of the Senior Lecturers given this status in 1941. And if all this wasn’t enough of a disincentive to do research, there was also some friction between Popper and his Head of Department, Professor Sutherland, a psychologist. Both had applied for the Professorship, Popper accepting the lecturing position when his application was turned down.4 The Chair Committee in London, consisting of Professors F. Clarke, A. Harrop, J. MacMurray, and G. E. Moore, although reporting that Popper was “a philosopher in every sense of the term”, recommended Sutherland on the grounds that he was already well known in New 4

Other applicants for the Chair included the Hegelian scholar Errol Harris and “Professor A. Garnett” from the University of Transylvania.

Zealand.5 (At least Popper was considered for the Chair. When he had, earlier, applied for a Chair at the University of Queensland he did not even make the short list, despite having Professors Stebbing, Carnap, Russell, Moore, and Bohr as referees.6) It is reported that Sutherland made Popper pay for any paper he used for non-teaching purposes (Simkin 1993, p.183, Hacohen 2000, p. 339), though this may have been a general University requirement. At the time the University was, if anything, opposed to its lecturers doing research, regarding “time spent on research as time filched from the primary job of teaching” (Simkin 1993, p. 183). This attitude Popper, with the help of many friends, did his best to change, but even up to the time he left he had to answer for time spent on non-teaching activities. Responding to a question (in a questionnaire) from the Chancellor of the University of New Zealand as to whether he had used University time for his research, Popper replied, “Certainly not. All the research work carried out by me was done during the vacation, during the weekends, and at night, to the complete sacrifice of any leisure for myself and my wife (who worked as my typist).” (Popper Archives, University of Canterbury.) It has been suggested (cf. Sandall 2001) that Popper’s relationship with Sutherland deteriorated partly as a consequence of their very different opinions about “tribalism”. Sutherland’s psychological research was connected to Maori culture, his view being that prior to European colonisation Maori had lived in equilibrium with their environment, this producing a state of “mental and moral stability” (Sutherland quoted by Sandall 2001, p. 119).7 Popper’s advocacy of the open, critical society could be seen as being in direct opposition to anyone supporting a “closed”, tribal

5

This information is contained in the Popper archives at the Macmillan Brown library, University of Canterbury. 6 The person appointed, William Kyle, had an M.A. from the University of Queensland, and long service in the Queensland Department of Public Instruction. (Information provided by Professor Alan Rix, Dean of Arts, University of Queensland.) 7 We are grateful to Michael Grimshaw for drawing our attention to Sandall’s article.

community, and so might have been interpreted as being in direct opposition to Sutherland himself. Whatever the cause, it is claimed that the relationship between the two men became so bad that Sutherland “instigated a campaign of harassment against Popper, eventually alleging to the police that the visiting European was probably an agent of influence for the Axis powers — if not an actual spy” (Sandall 2001, p.125).8 Whether there is any truth in this claim is unclear9, but there is no doubt that the war made life more difficult for foreigners. Findlay claims that “warfever” hit New Zealand, and those with German accents became “pariahs overnight, and even our friend Lady Wood … was, on account of her undecipherable accent, suspected of being a spy” (Findlay 1985, p. 33). So how can we suggest that this was a happy time in the lives of Karl and Hennie Popper? There are many indications that they found New Zealand an agreeable place in which to live. In his autobiography Popper talks of New Zealand as being the “best governed country in the world, and the most easily governed”, with the inhabitants being “like the British … decent, friendly, and well-disposed” (Schilpp 1974, p. 89). Although the University as an institution did not do much to encourage research, Popper found many friends with whom to talk and exchange ideas. Colin Simkin has already been mentioned: it was Simkin who introduced Popper to the work of the Austrian economists. Others were Hugh Parton (chemist), Frederick White (physicist), Robin Allan (geologist), George Roth (radiation physicist), Alan Reed (a lawyer), and Margaret Dalziel (English) — who took over Simkin’s role as “English editor” of The Open Society when Simkin was engaged in war duties.

8

Sandall is here reporting a conversation with Colin Simkin, a lecturer in economics at the University, who helped Popper correct his English for the early parts of The Open Society. 9 Hacohen reports that the police inquiry may have been a matter of routine (Hacohen 2000, p. 391).

Popper must have been much flattered by the reception given to his philosophical views; it was clear that a number of academics in Christchurch and beyond were influenced by both the philosophy of science and Popper’s political philosophy. When John Eccles arrived in Dunedin to take up the position of Professor of Physiology at the University of Otago, he writes that he heard “marvellous stories … about the academic stir that was being made by a philosopher, Karl Popper, in Canterbury University College at Christchurch…” (Eccles 1982, p. 221). Eccles invited Popper to give a week-long course of five lectures at the University of Otago: The train was very late, so the lecture perforce had to start about 30 minutes late to a crowded audience of at least 500 in the largest lecture theatre of the University. It was a unique occasion for the University, so remote and in war-time. (Eccles 1982, p. 221.) Eccles also writes of trips he made via Christchurch to Wellington, relating how on one occasion we were deep in discussion until the ship departed beyond shouting distance. Two days later, when the ship arrived at 6.30 a.m. at Lyttelton, I was amazed to find Karl on the wharf for a renewal of the conversation that continued on the drive to his lovely home in the Cashmere Hills for breakfast, and so to the train departing from Christchurch to Dunedin.10 (Eccles 1982, p. 223.) J. N. Findlay’s experience of Popper was similar; he recounts that his stay in New Zealand (which he describes as “perhaps the most beautiful country in the whole world” — Findlay 1985, p. 24) was made more interesting by a philosophical and personal friendship with Karl Popper … with whom I regularly exchanged visits over the two hundred or so miles that separated us. Discussions with Karl Popper were for me immensely profitable, but they were also exhausting, as he never knew when to stop and would go on explaining intricate formulae while we were driving among the scenic beauties of the Cashmere Hills. (Findlay 1985, p. 26.) 10

Lyttleton is a port few miles to the south of Christchurch. Cashmere Hills, a suburb of Christchurch, is on part of a small range separating Lyttleton harbour from Christchurch.

The contrast between this and Findlay’s experience of Popper in London is enormous. He recounts that though they were now only separated by the width of the Strand and Aldwych, their relations were more distant than they had been in New Zealand: His views of people, always violently moralistic, became more and more prejudiced, and he attributed defects of character to most of those who differed from him philosophically. (Findlay 1985, p. 40.) It is also clear that the Poppers had many friends in New Zealand, and seemed to live more gregariously than they did after moving to England. Simkin reports that Popper used to drop into his home between lectures for a chocolate or ice cream to satisfy his sweet tooth, and it is clear from the voluminous correspondence with George and Edith Roth that the Roths spent a lot of time with the Poppers attending plays and concerts.11 Popper was also involved in the Workers Educational Association (WEA) partly organised by George Roth, and clearly had a rapport with the non-university students from varying backgrounds. In the early 1970s George Roth writes to the Poppers about a WEA course on “Freedom and Determinism” attracting 69 students in the 40- to 85-year-old age group: The lecturer is an amazingly competent delightful young University Faculty member (David Novitz (M.A. (Rhodes), D.Phil. (Oxon))) who reminds us (not just in looks but in many of his mannerisms and in his presentation of the subject to this type of audience) of the young Karl Popper when we knew him when we first met him. Can you understand that we take great delight in the course? (Popper Archives, University of Canterbury.) The picture one gets “from the outside” is one of a very active and enthusiastic philosopher revelling in his contacts with other academics and enjoying relaxing with friends — when not working. That he appreciated these friends is clear from this response to the Chancellor’s questionnaire when he left New Zealand:

11

Roth was an Austrian Jew rescued from Europe by a New Zealand committee set up to save those threatened by Hitler’s onslaught. It appears that Popper had some role in this committee.

I wish to make especially one point clear: owing to the interest and understanding of these friends, I never felt isolated in New Zealand. I never felt for a minute that I was lacking mental stimulus. In this respect I have not only to thank the active research workers among my colleagues, but also a great number of students in the University, as well as in the WEA and the Royal Society. (Popper Archives, University of Canterbury.) That his friends appreciated him is also clear, and Popper could hardly have failed to have been pleased by the favourable reception and attention given to his ideas. Compare this with what happens when he gets to England, where he always felt an outsider and unappreciated. (“Popper’s relationship with the philosophical establishment in his adopted country was always chilly; from early in his career he may have despaired of British audiences for their inability to appreciate his originality” — Edmonds and Eidenow 2001, p. 215.) The thought that, had he not gone to New Zealand, he would have vanquished Wittgenstein, is hugely improbable. English philosophy at that time was dominated by Oxford and Cambridge, and Popper’s relationship to those institutions was always problematic. (He is reported to have said that Oxford had 150 philosophers and no philosophy. See Edmonds and Eidenow 2001, p. 216.) And the ease of life in Christchurch was missed. Hennie writes to the Roths in May, 1946: The School [L.S.E.] has started again and Karl is rather exhausted. Life is very rushed, he is always in a hurry, and buses and underground are crowded, noisy and take up the best part of the day; time required from our place to the School when one is lucky — just over an hour (but one isn’t lucky often). (Popper Archives, Univer...