In these previously uncollected essays, Smith argues that American philosophers like Peirce, James, Royce, and Dewey have forged a unique philosophical tradition—one that is rich and complex enough to represent a genuine alternative to the analytic, phenomenological, and hermeneutical traditions which have originated in Britain or Europe. "In my judgment, John Smith has no equal today in combining two scholarly qualities: the analysis of philosophical texts with penetration and rigor, and the discernment of what it is in these texts (...) that matters. These qualities are in evidence throughout the essays in _America's Philosophical Vision._ Whether he is evaluating Rorty's view of Dewey; the pragmatic theory of experience and truth; theories of freedom, creativity, and the self; Royce's conception of community; or synoptic philosophic visions, Smith always succeeds in uniting a comprehensive understanding of philosophic writings with a sure grasp of their import for human culture and aspiration. It is a great benefit to students of American thought that these papers have now been collected into one volume."—James Gouinlock, Emory University. (shrink)

Despite the frivolous note implied in the popular expression, ‘The Greeks had a word for it’, the literal truth is that they did! Time and again we find reflected in the terminology developed by these ancient seekers after wisdom, an attention to important distinctions and a faithfulness to the details of actual experience which are truly remarkable. The Greek thinkers had, as every classical scholar and student of Greek philosophy knows, a finely developed philosophical language, one sensitive no less to (...) the unusual, pregnant experience than to the familiar details of ordinary life. (shrink)

IN A PREVIOUS study entitled, "Time, Times and the 'Right Time': Chronos and Kairos," I explored the distinction between these two aspects of time and their relations to each other. I wish to return to the topic in this paper, building on my previous discussion but bringing in some new dimensions that were unknown to me earlier on. I did not know, for example, that kairos, although it has metaphysical, historical, ethical and esthetic applications, is a concept whose original home, (...) so to speak, was in the ancient rhetorical traditions. A recent study is aimed at recovering this important idea in the present situation. It is not insignificant that, while kairos has important philosophical implications, students of rhetoric have not been alone in neglecting it as can be seen from the fact that it is not listed in the four volume Dictionary of the History of Ideas, edited by Philip Wiener, nor is it to be found in The Great Ideas: A Syntopicon, edited by Mortimer Adler. One reason for the omission is no doubt the absence of any cognate word in English for kairos whereas its partner, chronos, appears in a host of forms throughout any English dictionary. The only exception that occurs to me is the quite rare word 'Kairotic' which is listed only in the most complete dictionaries. The loss of the concept of kairos is doubly unfortunate for, on the one hand, the idea has been of enormous significance in the past figuring essentially, for instance, in the religious traditions of the West, and, on the other hand, it expresses a most important feature of temporal process which, despite exceptions here and there, is not expressed in the concept of chronos. It is with these facts in mind that I am attempting to rehabilitate, as it were, the kairos aspect of time and to show its philosophical importance. (shrink)

Despite the title, I do not intend to launch another expedition into the domain of epistemology. I wish instead to call attention to some problems which have arisen for philosophical theologians and philosophers of religion, as a result of two facts about the development of modern philosophy and its bearing on the analysis and interpretation of religious insight. Following these considerations, I shall propose in brief compass a programme for the future which I believe will prove fruitful for the philosophical (...) treatment of religious concerns. (shrink)

The popular belief that religion is the same everywhere or that all religions are ‘at bottom’ identical in essentials is a widespread falsehood that is saved from being completely worthless by the fact that religion does exhibit a universal or common structure wherever it appears. This structure is intimately related to the structure of human life in the world. The enduring pattern that enables us to understand religions widely separated in both time and space depends largely on the fact that (...) man and the process of human life in the world have their own structures which remain, despite the undeniable variety introduced by vast differences of culture, ethnic features, geographical location, climate etc. Structure means pattern or form; it is reality significantly organised. It can be grasped as that which endures above and beyond changing historical details. Because human life has a structure, we are able to understand the wrath of Achilles or sympathise with the love of Abélard for Héloïse although we are separated from both by centuries of time. (shrink)

Let it be clear at the outset that in reappraising Dewey's thought we have to do with no minute philosopher. In breadth of interest and range of thought he belongs with the great comprehensive thinkers of the past. And in contrast to many thinkers both in his own time and since, he had a constructive program. Philosophy for him meant more than analysis, even though analysis is an important part of the philosophic enterprise. Dewey's constructive philosophy has too often been (...) lost in polemic discussion. I subscribe to the confession made some years ago by Ernest Hocking in which he said that he began to understand Dewey when he started reading him for enjoyment and not for the purpose of showing that he was all wrong! As Dewey's work shapes up in historical perspective, it assumes a great substantiality. One may disagree and one may correct, but in comparison with philosophy of a wholly technical and professional sort, Dewey's large-minded approach to genuinely philosophic questions places him among philosophers of stature. (shrink)

John E. Smith; XI—Radical Empiricism, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Volume 65, Issue 1, 1 June 1965, Pages 205–218, https://doi.org/10.1093/aristotel.

One of the important philosophical advantages stemming from study of the historical development of philosophical movements and traditions is the insight that comes from observing the logical out-working of a set of ideas over a period of time that far exceeds the lifetime of any individual thinker. An Aristotle or a Hegel may develop a philosophical mode of thought in an almost unbelievably comprehensive way, but no individual can grasp all the implications and ramifications of his philosophical vision, no matter (...) how monumental his powers may be. Many individuals, however, working over many years within the same framework of ideas can accomplish what no one of them alone could achieve. It is often said that philosophy is not an experimental science, and, in an obvious sense, this is true. But it is not entirely true. We can view the history of a tradition like Platonism, for example, or Augustinianism, as a vast experiment made by many thinkers with a set of ideas in which each thinker, building on what has gone before, seeks to develop further the basic premises of the position, proposing new logical alternatives, correcting errors, meeting objections, discovering further implications, and consolidating the results. In the case of a profound tradition, nothing less than this extended historical dialectic of ideas suffices to make plain what the basic position implies. Moreover, since climates of opinion change, the proponents of a given view will find that, in the course of time, new opponents appear, raising questions and posing problems that could not easily have been envisaged by the thinker who started the tradition. Sometimes these objections prove fatal and the tradition comes to an end; sometimes the objections are successfully overcome and the position finds new life and a more viable form of expression. The history of a tradition, therefore, is an indispensable resource for philosophical understanding. (shrink)

Some time in the 1950’s I was invited to address a meeting of the English Institute which took place at Columbia University and, while I have but a dim recollection of the topic, a point came up in the discussion which I still remember very well and it bears very closely on the subject of this essay. I had said something in my opening remarks about how technical recent philosophy had become and what a formidable language was growing up around (...) it. In the audience was Marjorie Hope Nicholson, the distinguished literary scholar and author of, among others, that delightful book about science and literature, Newton Demands the Muse. She took the occasion to tell us that in her student days she could read and profit from philosophical works—Locke, Bergson, James—and went on to say that in her opinion any intelligent person could read these authors and others without having, as we would now say, “majored” in philosophy. She added, however, that she found herself no longer able to read with much comprehension the writing of the philosophers of the time because of the remoteness of the issues from concrete experience and the esoteric language in which they were presented. What Nicholson was perceiving, perhaps without knowing the background, was the about-face in philosophy that was taking place at the time. Largely in response to the charge that philosophy, unlike science, was making no “progress,” many philosophers decided to limit philosophy to areas—logic, semantics, semiotics—in which it was believed that progress was possible. One result was the abandoning of all the undeniably vague and stubborn issues—God, the self, freedom and determinism, values and facts and the like —that resist solutions of a scientific sort. Unfortunately for philosophers, these are the matters that interest everyone most. (shrink)

No one acquainted with the odyssey of Hegel’s thought in America can fail to take note of the progress that has been made over the past twenty-five years in the study and interpretation of his writings. New texts, new translations, and, above all, penetrating commentaries, have led to a better and more accurate understanding of Hegel’s philosophy and at the same time have served to overcome prejudices, a priori opinions about what he must have said, and plain errors in construing (...) his basic ideas. Much of the work that has made this progress possible has been done by members of the Hegel Society and contributors to The Owl. (shrink)

For a variety of reasons stemming from the domination of the rationalist stance in western civilization, it came to be felt that the immediate--whether in the form of the esthetic, the shock of existing or just "being there," direct encounter, or the thrill of the moment--is in need of being preserved inviolate from the forms of articulation. And the underlying assumption prompting such concern for the immediate was that articulation is somehow alien to Being in the sense that passage from (...) the immediate via signs and meanings inevitably distorts, impoverishes and, in some fundamental way, transforms it beyond recognition. The sense of impoverishment coupled with a cosmic sorrow in the face of such a loss has led to celebration of the immediate, a more or less desperate attempt to hold fast to what cannot be said or articulated. Much of the mindlessness manifested in modern life is to be traced back to this celebration of immediacy as such. (shrink)

Another question arising in this connection is, can we, on such a view, make room for such human experiences as "forgiveness"; can we meaningfully speak of "making good" an evil past? On the face of it there would seem to be possible only the one answer implied by Mr. Weiss' position; no. The past is past and as such is sheer fact without becoming. What then shall we make of a notion like that of atonement? Does this idea, if interpretable (...) at all, point merely to a change taking place in some present or to take place in some future? Does it involve merely a change in knowledge, interpretation, consciousness, so that while it is admittedly a genuine change related to a determinate past, it is in no sense a change in the past? (shrink)

I am calling attention at the outset to Hegel’s procedure in interpreting the thought of others not to suggest that he simply failed to represent their views, but rather to indicate that he invariably sets them down in the midst of his own systematic idealism and judges them in accordance with the adequacy of their response to questions posed by his own position. One consequence of this approach is that Hegel views a philosophical position not primarily in terms of its (...) own unifying intention, but from the standpoint of the Idea and his own logic of the Notion plus the assumption that this logic is working itself out through the history of thought. If we apply this principle to his treatment of Kant, it becomes clear that the central point of Hegel’s critique must be that Kant failed to hold fast to the actuality of reason and the force of the Idea because he opted for the primacy of the understanding and its knowledge of finite reality over all speculative thought. In short, Kant was attacked for subordinating what Hegel made paramount. In this sense the ultimate validity of Hegel’s critique of Kant is made to depend on the viability of Hegel’s own system. (shrink)