The Dilemma of Our Time

Mn. COLLINGWOOD has written the most interesting book that has come out of Oxford for some time. Himself a distin- guished ornament of the Oxford scene, an eminent authority on Roman Britain (" a field in which I was an acknowledged

master," he tells us a little unnecessarily), an active, and what is not always the case in Oxford, a publishing philosopher, he has yet remained a curious, aloof, somewhat puzzling figure. " I wish to goodness you would come off the fence," commented a former tutor of his, a still more professional philosopher, rather angrily. With this book the Professor has certainly come off the fence, and with a bounce that will resound. He writes with passion and elegance the story of his mental life ; and because he is a brilliant and gifted man, with the widest sympathies of mind—he is quite clear about that himself, perhaps a trifle too candid about it—that story reflects some of the profoundest intellectual difficulties of our age. In consequence his book extends far beyond the field of Oxford in its interest ; it is a document of our time, much as John Stuart Mill's Autobiography was, though more fully, of his.

What is fundamental to Mr. Collingwood is the arrival of history to a position of essential significance, not only in itself, but also in practically all subjects and disciplines, for thought as such. He regards this as nothing less than an intellectual revolution: the revolution par excellence of our time, much more so than that associated with science, as is commonly thought. " It would be an understatement to say," he says,

" that since 1800 history has passed through a Copernican revolution. Looking back from the present day one sees that a much greater revolution has been accomplished than that associated with the name of Copernicus." I think on the whole this is true: it has been of profound importance in every sphere, politics, ethics, religion, anthropology, science itself. What is exceptional is that this should have been grasped by a philosopher ; we can be sure that Mr. Coiling- wood would not have arrived at it if he had not been an

historian too.

It has had the most far-reaching consequences for his views on academic philosophy : he evidently regards the philosophers, whether at Oxford or Cambridge, as a lot of logic-choppers who have reduced their subject to nullity. But may that not have been a good thing? It has at any rate had the effect of overthrowing the claim of metaphysics to be a sort of super-science,—a successor to the enthroned theology of the Middle Ages, laying down the laws for all fields of thought. Is it not rather to the merit of the " realists " that they should have undermined and nibbled away the pretentious intellectual superstructures that for so long had cluttered up the ground? Now that the metaphysicians have reduced themselves (or rather each other) to nothing, like the cats of Kilkenny, the way is clear for a more positive, common-sense interpretation of ethics, politics, religion, the whole world of our experience. It is for each of us to get on with our own work, with the discipline and method appropriate to the particular subject.

But Mr. Collingwood is greatly concerned by the conse- quences, especially for our public life, and writes with the

passion of a moralist :

" The pupils, whether or not they expected a philosophy that should give them, as that of Green's school had given their fathers, ideals to live for and principles to live by, did not get it; and were told that no philosopher (except, of course, a bogus philosopher) would even try to give it. The inference which any pupil could draw for himself was that for guidance in the problems of life, since one must not seek it from thinkers or from thinking, from ideals or from principles, one must look to people who were not thinkers (but fools), to processes that were not thinking (but passion), to aims that were not ideals (but ca:+rices), and to rules that were not principles (but expediency). If the realists had wanted to train up a generation of Englishmen and Englishwomen expressly as the potential dupes of every adventurer in morals or politics, commerce or religion . . . no better way of doing it could have been discovered."

Magnificent ! But is that all? The trouble is that the

dilemma goes deeper than that. What if the truth about the world and our experience is on one side, and the possibly more desirable consequences of an older view on the other? One can see the point of a contemporary realism, disillusioned almost to the point of nihilism, against Mr. Collingwood's

optimistic idealism. The former is truer to the facts of experi_ ence, and it is no good continuing on the basis of what we know to be untrue because it gave (some) good results—even if we could. The trouble is that truth will keep breaking in Again, there is the personal dilemma : one feels which line it is one's duty to take, and that Mr. Collingwood is on the side of the angels ; on the other hand, the more disillusioned, the more hopeless view appeals to one as more adult, nearer the truth of our experience of human beings.

What has happened in the realm of philosophy is a parallel to what has happened in other fields: contemporary poetry is written essentially for poets, music for musicians, works of art made for other artists, science for scientists, and politics for politicians. It is all part of the increasing specialisation of our time, one aspect of which is the necessity to preserve standards, which all specialists feel, in a time of the rise of the mob with its mass-standards threatening to overlay all.

The upshot of Mr. Collingwood's reflections is logical enough, though it is none the less surprising. Believing as he does in the necessary harmony of theory and practice, of taking a responsible line about the issues of our time, he comes with striking conviction to a conclusion upon his duty in the field of politics. The events of the past few years, particularly in the international field, have forced him to a decision. He knew the situation in Spain from personal observation ; and he says roundly of the National Government, " They wanted the rebels to win, and wanted to conceal this fact from the electorate.... They knew that the rebels could not win without grave damage to British interests, so they sacrificed those interests." An intelligent, indeed, a penetrating observer of events since 1931, witnessing the policy pursued from 1932 towards Japan, towards Italy, Germany, Spain, culminating in the disasters of last September and March, he says that all " this has been done not by the wish of the country, or of any considerable section in the country, but because the country has been

tricked."

Whether one agrees with him or no, these are the views of a remarkable and brilliant man ; and he ends with something like a statement of faith: "I know now that the minute philosophers of my youth, for all their profession of a purely scientific detachment from practical affairs, were the propagandists of a coming Fascism. I know that Fascism means the end of clear thinking and the triumph of irrationalism. I know that all my life I have been engaged unawares in a political struggle, fighting against these things in the dark. Henceforth I shall fight in the daylight."

A. L. ROWSE.