Bertrand Russell, Platonic Myths, and Japan
In his hugely influential and opinionated and therefore entertaining (1946) A History of Western Philosophy (hereafter: History), Russell introduces an aside in his discussion of Plato on myth in the Chapter (XIV) on “Plato’s Utopia:”
Plato is right in thinking that belief in this myth could be generated in two generations. The Japanese have been taught that the Mikado is descended from the sun-goddess, and that Japan was created earlier than the rest of the world. Any university professor, who, even in a learned work, throws doubt on these dogmas, is dismissed for unJapanese activities. What Plato does not seem to realize is that the compulsory acceptance of such myths is incompatible with philosophy, and involves a kind of education which stunts intelligence.
My interest in this passage is not the conclusion, which strikes me as manifestly false. As regular readers know I think some myth (I call it ‘philosophical prophecy’) is probably constitutive of the very possibility of philosophy. But let’s leave such issues beside.
Plato and Russell are right in thinking that some myths could be generated in two generations. I had no previous knowledge of the claims about the relatively recent origins of the Mikado (Japanese emperor). I was not surprised. (I just know too little about Japan.) But since the nineteenth century was a period of rapid, centralized forced modernization in Japan, I am not surprised somebody would have thought it useful to promote such a myth.
I also would never take Russell as a reliable guide to Japanese myths. While the History has a cosmopolitan tenor, it was written during WWII (as he reminds his reader not infrequently) and is very much a defense of civilization. In so doing, Russell is — despite Bloomsbury and all that — not far removed from the Victorian high-minded liberal moralists. In fact, I think part of the point of the History explain philosophy’s role in generating “our superiority since the Renaissance [which is due partly to science and scientific technique, partly to political institutions slowly built up” and its fragility. Russell is, of course, ultimately more interested in what he calls “the imperialism of culture.” (Chapter VII.)
Russell returns to the origin myths surrounding the Mikado in a chapter on Locke, while discussing Filmer’s theory. I had been looking at this chapter as part of a project with John Thrasher (Chapman) on the diversity of attempts to identify Locke as a liberal.
As an important aside, as Duncan Bell (here) and Timothy Stanton (here) have argued, the idea that Locke is a liberal and, in fact, the father of liberalism was of relatively recent vintage when Russell wrote. Interestingly enough most of the early attempts to do so were by critics of liberalism or half-hearted commentators on it (Laski, Strauss, Sabine, etc.). In fact, Russell may well be the first self-described important liberal, who claims (and now I quote), “The first comprehensive statement of the liberal philosophy is to be found in Locke.” (He goes on to describe Locke as hopelessly confused, and that’s the reason why I have gone back (recall this post) to this material.)
Okay, back to Russell on Filmer. He concludes his analysis with the following remarks:
But apart from all these considerations, it would not occur to any modern man outside Japan to suppose that political power should be in any way assimilated to that of parents over children. In Japan, it is true, a theory closely similar to Filmer's is still held, and must be taught by all professors and school-teachers. The Mikado can trace his descent from the Sun Goddess, whose heir he is; other Japanese are also descended from her, but belong to cadet branches of her family. Therefore the Mikado is divine, and all resistance to him is impious. This theory was, in the main, invented in 1868, but is now alleged in Japan to have been handed down by tradition ever since the creation of the world.
The attempt to impose a similar theory upon Europe--of which attempt Filmer’s Patriarcha is part--was a failure. Why? The acceptance of such a theory is in no way repugnant to human nature; for example, it was held, apart from Japan, by the ancient Egyptians, and by the Mexicans and Peruvians before the Spanish conquest. At a certain stage of human development it is natural. Stuart England had passed this stage, but modern Japan has not.— Russell, History, “CH. XIV “Locke's Political Philosophy:” A. THE HEREDITARY PRINCIPLE”
Again, we see Russell’s interest in the circumstances of the acceptance of myths. And in addition to it possibly being rapid, he now adds the thought that the context determines society’s receptivity toward a particular myth. And he inscribes that thought in a kind of stadial theory. In fact, he clearly thinks some myths correlate with certain stages of “human development.”
Lurking in Russell’s position are ideas that circulated widely in the late nineteenth century in the study of comparative civilizations. Today we are likely to emphasize the imperialist and orientalist commitments that often accompanied this study. But it is worth noting (see my “introduction” to Neglected Classics of Philosophy, II) that for Russell (and some of his interlocuters like Albert Schweitzer) this comparative analysis of civilizations was not intended to disparage the other great civilizations. In the History Russell often alludes to this when it comes to China and India (also Rome and the Persians). Their cultural fruits are worthy of admiration. (This is, as I noted in that intro, not so for rustic societies, alas.) Interestingly enough, Japan is not included among the great civilizations.
And this produces the (ahh) oddity that the mindset of industrializing “modern” Japan is somehow ‘behind’ Stuart England. That is to say, the stadial theory of the development of civilization is itself inscribed in a broader account of modernity. In fact, ‘modern’ is one of the most important and recurring words used in the History that does not have an obvious philosophical connotation (‘philosophical’ in Russell’s sense).
And so lurking is in Russell a kind of set of assumptions about how societies develop toward civilization and modernity (these need not be the same) in which certain views are more (ahh) naturally specific to a particular stage. (A view like this was very popular in the nineteenth century among both historicists of a certain kind and Mill-ean liberals.)
That’s it for today. But just a further thought. My own current interest is showing how assumptions like this distort Russell’s reading of Locke. Yet it would be interesting to see to what degree these anthropological commitments are presupposed in his epistemology and metaphysics.
I think Russell wouldn't *necessarily* disagree with you about the important role of myths in philosophy, his quote is against the "compulsory acceptance of such myths" rather than saying myths are inherently bad even when it's considered acceptable for philosophers to think critically about them.
On nineteenth century assumptions about the natural course of progress, Russell does criticize strongly deterministic notions of the inevitability of progress in the section on Marx in A History of Western Philosophy, where he writes:
"There goes with this limitation to terrestrial affairs a readiness to believe in progress as a universal law. This readiness characterized the nineteenth century, and existed in Marx as much as in his contemporaries. It is only because of the belief in the inevitability of progress that Marx thought it possible to dispense with ethical considerations. If Socialism was coming, it must be an improvement. He would have readily admitted that it would not seem to be an improvement to landowners or capitalists, but that only showed that they were out of harmony with the dialectic movement of the time. Marx professed himself an atheist, but retained a cosmic optimism which only theism could justify."
On less deterministic notions of historical stages, I wonder if Russell ever commented about broad "historical materialist" ideas that aren't specifically Marxist--the general idea that changes in technology and scientific ideas are likely to lead to certain characteristic changes in broad aspects of social organization and ideology. Is it plausible to imagine an alternate history where all the technology associated with the 19th century industrial revolution is developed but with no corresponding change in economic and political structure, and where all the scientific ideas supportive of "materialism" including Darwinian theory are developed but there is no significant change in acceptance of religious claims purported to be divine revelation? Technological and scientific developments seem like a good candidate for ideas where there is a strong element of "convergent evolution", so that similar developments would likely occur in alternate histories if we were to "replay the tape" as in Stephen Jay Gould's thought-experiment about biological evolution in his book Wonderful Life.
Rereading the Marx section of A History of Western Philosophy, I also noticed a paragraph on two different notions of philosophy, one of which is based less on science and logic and more on "questions of passionate interest"--he sees the need for this second kind of philosophy as well, and so perhaps he would be more accepting of some role for "myth" in this area, at least if it included toleration for "opposing the official religion" with alternate religious-like ideas:
"What is conventionally called 'philosophy' consists of two very different elements. On the one hand, there are questions which are scientific or logical; these are amenable to methods as to which there is general agreement. On the other hand, there are questions of passionate interest to large numbers of people, as to which there is no solid evidence either way. Among the latter are practical questions as to which it is impossible to remain aloof. When there is a war, I must support my own country or come into painful conflict both with friends and with the authorities. At many times there has been no middle course between supporting and opposing the official religion. For one reason or another, we all find it impossible to maintain an attitude of sceptical detachment on many issues as to which pure reason is silent. A 'philosophy', in a very usual sense of the word, is an organic whole of such extra-rational decisions."