SOURCE: "Progressive Traditionalism as the Spirit of Collingwood's Philosophy," in History and Theory, Vol. XXIX, No. 4, 1990, pp. 51-6.

[In the following essay, Kissell characterizes Collingwood's thought as "progressive traditionalism" in the sense that it addresses both the changing phenomena of history and perennial issues of philosophy.]

Thirty-two years ago when I began my dissertation on Collingwood's philosophy, the people around me said: "Who was he? Where did you dig him up and why, since nobody knows him?" As a young graduate student, I was philosophically very naive and educated in the spirit of dogmatically distorted Marxism, but I saw at once that in Collingwood's books there was an extraordinary clarity of thought, brilliant mastery of the English language, and carefully elaborated argumentation appealing to a human capacity for self-reflection rather than deduction from dogmatically asserted premises. These qualities I recognized before I could penetrate the philosophical meaning of his writings. But after three years of study the picture of Collingwood's philosophical system appeared before me for the first time. Initially I had no guidance and no help in understanding Collingwood's works except for several articles on the subject, including T. M. Knox's introductory remarks to The Idea of History—extremely valuable but not, as eventually became clear, altogether conclusive. The first major book on Collingwood, by Alan Donagan, was published in 1962, a year after my defense of my thesis.

Since that time much water has flowed under the bridge and now historical justice has been done to Collingwood's contribution to the philosophical thought of the twentieth century. There are, of course, remaining doubts about such matters as whether there is a basic unity to all his thought, growing out of the ideas developed in Speculum Mentis, or whether there were two distinct stages to his philosophical development. The former hypothesis is very attractive to a speculative mind, because it resolves apparent contradictions between certain assertions of Collingwood in the manner of Hegelian phenomenology—that is, by seeing them as partial embodiments of one and the same truth which takes adequate form only at the end of its gradual unfolding. In such a case the contradictory statements which appear in Collingwood's different books can be interpreted as different stages of the argument, the contradictions being overcome in the final result of the thought-process. But I think this interpretative hypothesis is too beautiful to be true and the problem of the ambiguities and inconsistencies in Collingwood's thought remains.

Nevertheless, independently of the solution to this dilemma, there are certain leading ideas in the philosophy of Collingwood which in my opinion can be unmistakably identified. Selecting one for attention can be done on different grounds, one of which is practical importance—the intimate connection with the urgent needs of contemporary social life. On this criterion I choose the idea of progressive traditionalism as an expression of his basic social attitude, deeply rooted in the very core of his philosophy.

Progressive traditionalism is one of the manifestations or, to be more correct, one of the consequences of the basic program of rapprochement between philosophy and history. The methodological instrument of this rapprochement was dialectics. I wrote a special article on this topic which was not published for several years, and now I will take up only one of its ideas: that of cumulative change. Everybody knows that history means change, while philosophy—in the common opinion—deals with the eternal and immutable. Dialectics arose with the understanding of the fact that the eternal exists only by means of change and change becomes meaningful and intelligible only through participation in the eternal. The fusion of the two opposites and the attempt to explain their interrelation is the principal distinguishing feature of the Platonic tradition in the history of philosophy. This notion emerged at the beginning of Collingwood's philosophical career, as has been made clear in Henry Jones's remarks on Collingwood's "Truth and Contradiction." Jones says: "This is a version of the 'dialectic' of Plato and Hegel, and in a sense not new. But it is done in a fresh way: clear, frank, interesting, and somehow very 'taking'.… All the time he is showing the true nature of Philosophy, and finding that movement, activity, process is the living soul of all thinking and of all objects of thought."

I think this is a brilliant definition of the substantial content of all Collingwood's philosophical work. We can compare this definition with the authorized version by Collingwood himself in his 1935 article "The Present Need of a Philosophy." He writes:

What is needed today is a philosophical reconsideration of the whole idea of progress or development, and especially its two main forms, "evolution" in the world of nature and "history" in the world of human affairs.… In short the help which philosophy might give … would lie in a reasoned statement of the principle that there can be no evils in any human institution which human will cannot cure.

In these two citations we have evidence of the basic importance for Collingwood of the two ideas whose connection is given in the title of this article.

But the shortest way to the core of Collingwood's argument seems to be this: philosophy somehow deals with thought and thought is progressive by its very nature—of course if it is real thought aiming to be true, and not the product of the "corruption of consciousness." As Collingwood put it in The Principles of Art, philosophy in its dynamic aspect is "an attempt to think better," which implies a continuity amid changes. Tradition is the vehicle of cumulative changes. The logical structure of cumulative growth is explained by Collingwood in the notion of "scale of forms" elaborated in An Essay on Philosophical Method (1933).

Every form on the scale includes the totality of the previous ones plus a certain special quality which makes the form a new one and not a mere repetition of the former. Every higher form on a scale contains the solution of the problem posed by the previous phase. But there is no necessary or inevitable transition from the lower to the higher form, as in Hegelian dialectics. This peculiarity Collingwood has called "the Law of Chance," according to which the movement from the lower to the higher is not automatic (as in Hegel) but requires "the energy of mind." This energy is not always deployed; it may be absent, and then there is regression, simplification, and finally the fall of the civilization. This law has a practical and a theoretical side, as we know. Collingwood incessantly emphasized the primacy of the practical aspect of thought."Thought exists for the sake of action. We try to understand ourselves and our world only in order that we may learn how to live." As we read also in The New Leviathan: "Thought is primarily practical."

Thus the scale of forms as the structure of practical action requires that the actor know the past in order to correct its faults and create the new which is better than the previously existing state of affairs. Hence the practical importance of historical knowledge for people of action, especially politicians. By historical knowledge we might think of something like "the old curiosity shop" where there are a lot of interesting and strange things absolutely unconnected with our present life and serving only for amusement. In Collingwoodian terms, this would be a "dead past" which by the special effort of real historians can be lifted to the state of a living past if the past things described are of real importance for the historians themselves.

Nevertheless this knowledge is theoretical because, as Collingwood says in his Autobiography, it is only "encapsulated" in the present and produces no light on it. For a person of action his or her knowledge of the past is interwoven in the structure of the action. This is a theme of the Autobiography, though one not fully developed in the book. But The New Leviathan takes the theme further by studying the problem of politics in a "civilized community." One of the most important statements in this treatise is as follows:

Being civilized means living so far as possible dialectically, that is, in constant endeavour to convert every occasion of non-agreement into an occasion of agreement. A degree of force is inevitable in human life, but being civilized means cutting it down, and becoming more civilized means cutting it down still further.

The achievement of agreement implies the understanding of the Other, and this is typically the situation of re-enactment, which is at the core of Collingwood's theory of historical knowledge. I mean the necessity of re-enactment of others' thought from both sides in the process of communication in order to reach mutual understanding; and mutual understanding is the presupposition of common grounds of discourse, without which no consensus is possible. The achievement of agreement means self-correction of the two conflicting attitudes—an operation not altogether different from that of the theoretical thinking where we work to develop the past heritage in relation to the present conditions of the situation in science. In the sphere of theoretical reason just as in the sphere of the practical our first experience is with the hard facts of the "given."

But what is the given, the immediate data of theoretical thinking or practical activity? This is the principal question. The "given" is not isolated data—"sense data"—because these are abstractions of analytical thought. What we really encounter is a definite stage of the process, and in order to deal with it adequately we must re-create what was before. This is the encounter with tradition. We never begin with the beginning, but always continue, whether we know it or not. We are always at a certain point on the scale, which means the actual stage of social life or the present situation in the world of philosophy. The life of tradition is its creative re-enactment in response to the needs of an ever-changing life.

What is the tradition in philosophy to which Collingwood belongs? I think it is the tradition of the philosophy of self-consciousness in contrast to the so-called "realistic" approach focusing on stimuli from the external world. There are two approaches in the history of philosophy: from world to a person and from person to a world. Two types of philosophy are connected with them. The tradition I am speaking about is that which argues from a person to the larger world. Socrates, Descartes, and Husserl are the principal representatives of this tradition. In interiore homine habitat Veritas. This famous dictum serves as a summary statement of the doctrine, which I believe we can call the genuine philosophia perennis—though of course not in a Thomistic sense. But the assertion now made raises a special problem with regard to the so-called historicism of Collingwood, which is often interpreted in the sense of extreme relativism. This relativistic interpretation is wrong, because it ignores the fact that Collingwoodian historicism was the philosophy of human nature with basic constants inherent in it. Among them reason was the first in importance. If there were no such constants progress would be impossible, since all points of reference would be absent.

According to Collingwood, there is an historical element of human activity too. Now I come to the very controversial "doctrine of absolute presuppositions." It is not possible here to discuss the doctrine as a whole; it is quite sufficient for me to note that only the existence of absolute presuppositions is absolute, not their concrete meanings, which are changeable in history. In my opinion, the term itself is not entirely appropriate, since "absolute" by definition excludes change. Absolutes cannot change themselves; change takes place only within them, with regard to separate fragments taken in relation to the whole. However, my purpose here is not to elaborate this point, so I may confine myself to observing that absolute presuppositions lying at the foundation of human civilization are the basic elements of tradition. They are conserved unchanged throughout centuries. When change does occur in this realm, it is the manifestation of a crisis in the whole fabric of human civilization.

Western civilization is based on the presupposition of Christianity, which in turn arose as a result of fundamental changes in the foundation of ancient Greco Roman culture. The vindication of this view is contained in An Essay on Metaphysics, where faith in a Christian God was propounded as the necessary presupposition of the operation of reason itself in its theoretical and practical aspects. In its theoretical aspect the presupposition led to faith in the rational order of nature by means of which science is possible. In its practical aspect the presupposition led to faith in a civilized way of life achieved by human reason in constant struggle with barbarism threatening the destruction of all that is genuinely human in society.

Thus philosophy is a systematic, theoretical form of self-consciousness of the tradition constituting the essence of the European way of life. Exercising its function, philosophy clarines the ultimate constituents of our present epoch—features which remain disguised from the positivistic frame of mind, which is interested only in empirically verified relative and phenomenal factors. Philosophy also discovers "strains" in the very fabric of the historical form of human civilization. These "strains" are symptoms of crisis, of the grave social danger to come in the future. Philosophy indicates the deep processes in the underground which more and more appear on the surface as wars, revolutions, and dictatorial regimes annihilating basic human rights. But these processes are not fatal. The function of philosophy, appealing to the reason of humanity, is to understand in order to warn and to prevent. The progress of philosophy lies in the increasing degree of understanding of the fate of absolute presuppositions and of the prospects of human civilization.

Of course, philosophy is too weak to neutralize these dangers by itself; but its announcement of basic values of the civilized way of life and of the "strains" in the latter contribute to the general struggle for the preservation and development of human relations on the earth. In 1937 Collingwood wrote:

There is a pestilence abroad, and its symptoms in withered minds and paralysed wills are all around us. Most of our colleagues are its enthusiastic allies or its helpless victims, and I don't believe that controversial argument is the way to attack it.… Go on producing good stuff—not negative or controversial stuff, but meaty nourishing stuff—and drive them out of the field by showing that we can appeal over their heads to the people who need philosophy and will not be content with the sophisms of our friends.

What he was criticizing was the response of the prevailing school of British academic philosophy to the victorious spread of nazism and fascism. His colleagues were interested in the problems of language and the emerging nazism was so "unphilosophical" a problem. But it posed the problem of the very existence of all the principal institutions of European civilization, including philosophy as a free activity of human thinking. The vindication of the thesis which Collingwood elaborated in his last book, The New Leviathan, reminds us of the best work of his great compatriot who lived through the English Revolution and the first great European war in the modern epoch.

But to return to the problem previously mentioned: among the basic presuppositions of civilization there is one which brings philosophy into an intimate connection with religion. This is the presupposition of the ultimate rationality of the world as a whole. This ultimate rationality is unverifiable, and therefore is the product of faith. Thus reason itself, according to Collingwood, is "faith cultivating itself." Hence the importance of Christianity as an embodiment of this basic conviction. To a certain extent, the progress of European social and philosophical thought since the Middle Ages was the secularization of the Christian heritage. In the end this secularization turned against the Christian articles of faith themselves. This is the situation in which Collingwood took up his position of the defense of absolute presuppositions of civilization.

This is the meaning of his progressive traditionalism. It is "progressive" because thought is autonomous in its development, aiming to solve new problems engendered by life that is constantly in process. Philosophy is not ancilla theologiae, the handmaiden of theology, but it must sincerely recognize its own limits and roots. Mere change devoid of roots is the great danger, as the social experience of our century has demonstrated. Progress to be real must be not only new but better, including the real achievements of the past and not destroying them. Then it will be creative and a step beyond the old. This dialectic of progress and tradition is the secret of really successful and beneficial politics and the experience of revolutions, past and present, has verified this thesis. Now in my country we, for the most part, understand the necessity of conserving something of the old which is living if we are to create more satisfying social conditions.

Return to healthy traditions is one of the elements of Gorbachev's "new thinking." This return to tradition is manifested in our country in two respects: the age-old tradition of individual peasants' work, and the Russian Orthodox Church. Now we understand the significance of pluralism in the forms of property, especially in agriculture, and we recognize the importance of religious values, especially in situations of moral crisis. These traditions did not exhaust their creative élan. Why ought we to fight desperately against God? It would be better to fight together with those who have faith against the Devil—and the Devil is the spirit of war, destruction, oppression, and dishonest behavior in its infinite multifariousness. The cooperation of all people of good will leads to the amelioration of life; it changes the world for the better. It is deeply progressive, in contrast with the simple repetition of atheistic slogans.

Aggressive and ignorant atheism is not better than religious fanaticism, which even now is ready to kill in response to the orders of a leader. Now toleration must be not only for the atheists, as in the past, but also for the adherents of religion, who in certain countries are in the minority. Tolerance is a traditional philosophical value never outdated.

Collingwood's philosophy is especially pertinent, in my opinion, in his clear understanding of the spiritual heritage to be elaborated anew for each generation to come, in his reminding us of the great chain of thought uniting the ancient Greek past with our European present, and of our responsibility for preserving the very foundation of the civilized way of life, which is "law, order, prosperity, and peace."