Let us now undertake the analysis of the method of Verstehen, traditionally regarded as the specific tool of the social sciences. I am going to present criticism to two contrasting texts, one written by a positivist (ABEL 48) and the other by an epistemological apriorist. (HAYEK 43) I will then introduce a third writer (SARTRE 60, pp. 61-98) whose view on the matter I find much closer to the truth. The commentary of these three texts will offer sufficient opportunity to express my own opinion, as we go along.
I begin by summing up Abel's argument. His main contention is that unless the operation called Verstehen is clearly defined, one cannot say how much validity its results have. He then goes on to work in precisely that definition, in order to be able to criticize the operation thus defined. His point of departure for the explication of Verstehen is the presentation of three different examples of application: to a single case, to a general case, and to a statistical case.
Single case: My neighbor makes a fire because there is a drop in temperature. I cannot be certain that this is the correct or true explanation of his conduct, though. He may rather want to show off his fireplace, or even his motive could be unconscious –he might be symbolically burning his house to punish the fellow who harasses him about the mortgage.
General case: "Faced by the insecurity of a changing and hostile world, we seek security by creating 'eternal varieties' in our thoughts" (Lundberg). Clearly the evidence to substantiate the validity of the interpretation is not sufficient. The connection asserted by the generalization is relevant. We understand it and consider it possible.
Statistical case: There has been found a high correlation between the annual rate of crop production and the rate of marriage in a given year in rural areas. The connection is relevant, but the verification is based on objective data (ABEL 48, pp. 212-214).
Now, from the analysis of these three cases it is possible to build a definition or explication of Verstehen: "Two particulars. . . are characteristic of the act of Verstehen. One is the 'internalizing' of observed factors in a given situation; the other is the application of a behavior maxim which makes the connection between these relevant." For example, in the general case mentioned before, we internalize "change and hostility" into "feeling of inadequacy" and the concept of "eternal verities" into "feeling of security." The corresponding behavior maxim is that a person who feels inadequate will seek security. Behavior maxims are generalizations of direct personal experience (we take for granted that the emotions of others function similarly to our own). The result of the operation is to give the certainty that a given interpretation of behavior is a possible one; the sense of relevance is the result of personal experience –the connection has been established before, so one is certain of its possibility (ABEL 48, pp. 213-216).
With this definition at his disposal, Abel proceeds then to criticize the operation of Verstehen. The core of this criticism is the assertion that from the affirmation of a possible connection one cannot conclude that it is also probable –the test of actual probability calls for the application of objective methods of observation different from the operation we are analyzing. Since Verstehen is totally dependent on knowledge we already possess, it cannot help us in our way to discovery. The operation can be helpful only in setting up hypotheses. It is unable to verify them. It relieves us of the apprehension which should haunt us if we could not understand the connection. But satisfaction of curiosity produces only a subjective increment; it "adds nothing to the objective validity of a proposition" (ABEL 48 , pp. 216-17). In conclusion, "the operation of Verstehen does two things: It relieves us of a sense of apprehension in connection with behavior that is unfamiliar or unexpected and it is a source of 'hunches,' which help us in the formulation of hypotheses." More important is what the operation does not do:
The operation of Verstehen does not, however, add to our store of knowledge, because it consists of the application of knowledge already validated by personal experience; nor does it serve as a means of verification. The probability of a connection can be ascertained only by means of objective, experimental, and statistical tests.
Let us now examine Abel's argument, especially its conclusion. The last quoted proposition, in particular, is evidence of an ultra-empiricism that seems to ignore the problems, some of them acute to the point of hopelessness, which have been discussed in recent years on confirmation and probability theory. The plausible conclusion of that discussion is, contrary to Abel's assumptions, that the probability of a connection cannot be ascertained any more than the truth of the connection, apart from some ingredient, very difficult to specify, of a rather subjective nature (SCHEFFLER 63). On the other hand, the contention that Verstehen does not add to our store of knowledge because it consists of the application of knowledge already validated by personal experience, proves a bit too much. If one is to limit oneself to knowledge not yet validated by experience, then one has to discard all generalizations that are based on more than two or three directly observed instances. But this procedure would close the door to all acquisition of knowledge, except perhaps to the not interesting knowledge of the single and isolated type of cases which would not repeat themselves. Abel seems to be implying that generalization is not a means of discovery. This is untrue, as any scientist can tell. It is precisely generalization which is the way to discovery, for only general hypotheses can guide the scientist in his investigations.
As for the argument that from the "possible" one cannot get the "probable," I would like to ask a question. If "possible" means "what has been experienced before," and "probable" means (presumably) "what has been experienced before more than a couple of times" (it cannot mean "what is being experienced now"), then why should not I be allowed to say that my "possible" is also "probable"? If it is because my "possible" has been experienced only a couple of times, Abel would then be denying that this is a genuine case of Verstehen (it would not consist of a generalization of personal experience). But if alternatively the reason for rejecting my "possible-probable" is that already validated knowledge is "old stuff" then all probabilistic knowledge, no matter how "objective," would be subject to equal rejection. All probabilistic knowledge has been already validated!
Abel is wrong, I think, in assuming a sharp distinction between "knowledge," in the sense of discovery of new knowledge, and "application" of it; that is, he endorses the positivist dogma which sees language only as a "filing system," and knowledge as a dichotomy of tautologies on the one hand and empirical content on the other. Application of knowledge is, for that view, simply a matter of "filling out" analytical theory with empirical content. That view is blind to the fact that all applications of knowledge are also, to some extent, creation of new knowledge. One never fails to modify, however slightly, his previous information by the act of applying it to a "confirming instance." The result of it is that repeated application of the "same" knowledge will gradually change our whole vision of the world, although in each case we "only" apply knowledge "already validated." NOTE 1 Leibniz' adopted motto, "la nature ne fait jamais de sauts," should still warn us to be prepared for surprises in this rich world of ours in which no two instances are ever exactly the same.
As to the positive part of Abel's conclusions, he says that the operation of Verstehen does two things: it relieves us of the sense of apprehension in the face of the unexpected, and it is a source of "hunches" that help us in the formulation of hypotheses. I think he is right. Moreover, I consider these two characteristics a remarkable summary of the reasons why man does practice science at all. Thus, science is first of all a work of intellectual creativity, a heuristic rapture, so to speak. Besides, it is a work of intellectual curiosity. We create knowledge –hypotheses, theories– because we are rational animals and we enjoy our own production of ideas. But we also expect this knowledge to be of such sort that it can satisfy our need of orientation in the world and "save the appearances" related to disconcerting events. So, Abel has branded Verstehen as a highly scientific method, after all! With that compliment one wonders not whether the operation is a legitimate tool for some fields of analysis, but rather whether it is not the perfect incarnation of the very method of science, for all fields.
Passing now to Hayek's text, there is not for him a question as to the validity of the method of
"empathic understanding."
Nevertheless, and as a consequence of his schooling in the doctrines of positives, he tries to
define
a role for the
operation that does not endanger the positivist dichotomy between tautological theory and
empirical content. In order to
do this, he takes a course of reasoning much in the same line as
Simon's argument which we examined in
the
last
chapter, i.e., to
recognize teleology in the subject-matter (teleology2), but here with the frank addition of an
"aprioristic bridge" to assure
adequate relevance to the explanations. Says he:
In discussing what we regard as other people's conscious actions, we invariably interpret their action on the analogy of our own mind: that is. . . we group their actions, and the objects of their actions, into classes or categories which we know solely from the knowledge of our own mind. . . .
The problem that I see here is that "knowledge of our own mind" may not prove enough as a
justification of
(necessarily social) language: There must be some public criteria to judge words or, in general,
meaningful actions, so
that one does not have to rely on "inner voices" or secret "intentions" to understand words or
actions. The author
recognizes this when he states: "When we say that a person possesses food or money, or that he
utters a word, we imply
that he knows that the first can be eaten, that the second can be used to buy something with, and
that the third can be
understood. . . ."
(HAYEK 43). But he fails to understand the
real
nature of the implication. It is not a matter of knowledge of "our own mind." It is a matter of
knowledge of our own
language, which implies by itself the existence of other minds. Let us recall the case of the
neighbor that shows off
his fireplace. There is a sense in which one could say that the "showing-off" is implied in the
definition of "fireplace,"
although this is not the primary sense of the word.
This not-being-the-primary-sense-of-the-word is what gives us the
low probability of this interpretation for the conduct of my neighbor. There are built-in
probabilities inherent in every
word we use. They reflect what we do and what we are, both socially and personally. They
express, as it were,
human nature. This explains the fact that "we can understand less and less as we turn to
beings more and more
different from ourselves. . . ."
(HAYEK 43, p. 7). What happens here is that
in
the extreme case
the common language is lacking –there is no common nature.
Under this interpretation it is clearly illicit to separate, as the author does (HAYEK 43, p. 8), a system of concepts "that we can understand" from real knowledge about the world. The conceptual aspects of language (classification) are not separable from its propositional aspects (assertion) because the way in which our system of concepts is set up does always say a great deal about our experiences. The uses of the word are somehow conveyed in the word itself. Its possible applications are somehow predetermined in it. That is why every actual application is bound to produce a change in the linguistic framework, to the extent, that is, that the current configuration does not prove to be prophetic. Classification already says something about the real world. The relative probability of certain combinations implicit in meaning tells us something about the history of application of expressions –fireplace can be used to warm up, but also to show off, and even to alleviate psychological complexes. We use the concepts thus classified as elements in the construction of our hypothetical models or ideal types with which we intend to reproduce the patterns of social relationships. In this sense, theory is prior to history. It explains or constructs the terms which history must use (HAYEK 43, p. 10). But let us not forget that history, specifically the history of the language, is prior, even logically prior, to theory. For we would not understand the concepts were it not for the fact that we find ourselves able to perform common judgments. So it is simply not true that "models can never possess any properties which we have not given to them. . . ." (HAYEK 43, p. 12). The fact is rather, and wonderfully, that models do possess qualities that we have not actually put in them, that they continually surprise us with the heuristic riches they make manifest –of course, to the extent that they are true concepts (or fruitful, or relevant, or useful, or whatever word we prefer to use in this connection). NOTE 2
Let us revert at this point to Jean Paul Sartre's conception of method. Its epistemology is eminently a practical one. As a matter of fact, as already noted, he maintains that all philosophy, even the most contemplative, is essentially practical. The categories of his epistemology reflect this particular view. What conventional treatises present as duality of "object" and "subject," is introduced by him as the duality of "the given" –material conditions– and "the project" –human strivings or intentions. The project category is developed into a theory of meaning, where the Marxian conceptions of "objectivation" and "alienation" find their right places. Meanings come from man and his project, but they also materialize all over in things and in the order of things: "L'homme construit des signes parce qu'il est signifiant dans sa réalité même et il est signifiant parce qu'il est dépassement dialectique de tout ce qui est simplement donné. . . .." What we call freedom is the irreducibility of the order of culture to the order of nature (SARTRE 60, p. 96). Hence the categories can serve a purpose of scientific demarcation as well.
The problem of Verstehen can be adequately treated in this context. Understanding, necessary to grasp the sense of human conduct, is not a particular virtue or faculty of intuition, but rather the "dialectical motion" to explain an act by its terminal meaning, starting from the original conditions. "La compréhension n'est pas autre chose que ma vie réelle. . . . ," the integrative motion that involves my neighbor, myself, and the environment in the synthetic unity of an objectivation in the process of becoming (SARTRE 60, p. 97). Besides, the scheme permits also a comfortable criticism of positivism, Marxian or not: "Il était légitime que les sciences de la nature se délivrassent de l'anthropomorphisme que consiste à prêter aux objets inanimés des propriétés humaines. Mais il est parfaitement absurde d'introduire par analogie le mépris de l'anthropomorphisme dans l'anthropologie. . . ." (SARTRE 60, p. 98).
Sartre presents his method as heuristic, both regressive and progressive. I take the term "progressive" to be related to discovery and teleology; "regressive," to empirical verification and purely operational deduction (SARTRE 60, p. 86). Within this framework the dialectic of the method imposes a va-et-vient (back-and-forth) movement, for example from the determination of the biography to the determination of the epoch and vice versa. But we need also a differential element, that aspect of knowledge which can solely originate the progressive motion –like the priming of a pump, in order not to proceed in a vacuum (SARTRE 60, p. 87). I find this approach most attractive and promising. In particular, it seems to be useful in developing a conception of language which will not be forced to make any artificial distinction between meaning and truth, and which can offer a more realistic explanation of the actual operation of our universal means of communication. One learns the meaning of a word when one finds it essentially used in a system of true statements. On the other hand, the truth of the statements is better perceived when one has already learned the meaning of the word –again, a back-and-forth motion.
In conclusion our analysis of
Verstehen has led us to a germinal conception of the nature of language which is consistent
with the results of our
analyses of the previous chapters. The importance of formalism is recognized
–Sartre's regressive
element– together with
the importance, even more radical, of the non formal, the heuristic or dialectical aspects of
thought –Sartre's progressive
motion. We are ready, I think, to go into a closer consideration of the basic patterns of
formalism
which we are likely to
encounter in the social sciences, especially in economics.
NOTE 1 This is not to rule out revolutionary linguistic reform whenever the application to new instances will impose strenuous modification to the old paradigm (see Part II, especially Chapter VI).
NOTE 2 I cannot avoid thinking in this connection of the magnificent myth of the preestablished harmony; in general, in the high degree of prophetic power that mythological concepts have proved to posses –witness, for instance, the perennial contemporariness of Plato's vocabulary and images.