PATHOLOGIES  of  REASON

New Directions in Critical Theory

Amy Allen, General Editor

New Directions in Critical Theory

Amy Allen, General Editor

New Directions in Critical Theory presents outstanding classic and contemporary texts in the tradition of critical social theory, broadly construed. The series aims to renew and advance the program of critical social theory, with a particular focus on theorizing contemporary struggles around gender, race, sexuality, class, and globalization and their complex interconnections.

Narrating Evil: A Postmetaphysical Theory of Reflective Judgment, María Pía Lara

The Politics of Our Selves: Power, Autonomy, and Gender in Contemporary Critical Theory, Amy Allen

Democracy and the Political Unconscious, Noëlle McAfee

The Force of the Example: Explorations in the Paradigm of Judgment, Alessandro Ferrara

Horrorism: Naming Contemporary Violence, Adriana Cavarero

Scales of Justice: Reimagining Political Space in a Globalizing World, Nancy Fraser

PATHOLOGIES of  REASON

On the Legacy of Critical Theory

Axel Honneth

Translated by James Ingram and others

Columbia University Press    New York

Columbia University Press

Publishers Since 1893

New York   Chichester, West Sussex

cup.columbia.edu

Pathologien der Vernuft. Geschichte und Gegenwart der Kritischen Theorie © 2007

Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurt am Main

Copyright © 2009 Columbia University Press

All rights reserved

E-ISBN 978-0-231-51837-6

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Honneth, Axel, 1949-

[Pathologies der Vernunft. English]

Pathologies of reason: on the legacy of critical theory / Axel Honneth; translated by James Ingram and others.

    p. c.m.

Includes bibliograpical references (p.   ).

ISBN 978-0-231-14626-5 (cloth : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0-231-51837-6 (e-book)

1. Critical theory—History. 2. Social sciences—Research—History.

I. Title.

HM585.H65    2009

301.01—dc22

2008044202

A Columbia University Press E-book.

CUP would be pleased to hear about your reading experience with this e-book at cup-ebook@columbia.edu.

References to Internet Web Sites (URLs) were accurate at the time of writing. Neither the author nor Columbia University Press is responsible for Web sites that may have expired or changed since the book was prepared.

CONTENTS

Preface

ONE

The Irreducibility of Progress: Kant’s Account of the Relationship Between Morality and History

TWO

A Social Pathology of Reason: On the Intellectual Legacy of Critical Theory

THREE

Reconstructive Social Criticism with a Genealogical Proviso: On the Idea of Critique in the Frankfurt School

FOUR

A Physiognomy of the Capitalist Form of Life: A Sketch of Adorno’s Social Theory

FIVE

Performing Justice: Adorno’s Introduction to Negative Dialectics

SIX

Saving the Sacred with a Philosophy of History: On Benjamin’s Critique of Violence

SEVEN

Appropriating Freedom: Freud’s Conception of Individual Self-Relation

EIGHT

Anxiety and Politics: The Strengths and Weaknesses of Franz Neumann’s Diagnosis of a Social Pathology

NINE

Democracy and Inner Freedom: Alexander Mitscherlich’s Contribution to Critical Social Theory

TEN

Dissonances of Communicative Reason: Albrecht Wellmer and Critical Theory

Appendix: Idiosyncrasy as a Tool of Knowledge: Social Criticism in the Age of the Normalized Intellectual

Notes

Bibliography

PREFACE

In this volume, I have collected essays that, although apparently disparate, emphasize the timeliness of Critical Theory. There may seem to be little call for this today. A series of excellent studies on the history of the Frankfurt School, along with monographs on its individual representatives over the past decades, have clarified the multiformity of the approaches we attribute to this theoretical tradition that arose in the 1920s. Indeed, the real difficulty may well consist in identifying the unity of a single Critical Theory in the multiplicity of its theoretical forms. The solution I have found for this problem in my own investigations is contained in the title of the present volume. Through all their disparateness of method and object, the various authors of the Frankfurt School are united in the idea that the living conditions of modern capitalist societies produce social practices, attitudes, or personality structures that result in a pathological deformation of our capacities for reason. It is this theme that establishes the unity of Critical Theory in the plurality of its voices. As heterogeneous as the works bound to it may be, they always aim at exploring the social causes of a pathology of human rationality.

But the theme of regarding the living conditions of our societies as causes of a possible deformation of reason also indicates where I see the timeliness of Critical Theory. Today, primarily under the pressures of aimless professionalization, there is a threat that the bond between philosophy and social analysis will be conclusively broken. With this, a central heritage of German Idealism—namely, the chance to understand rationality as dependent on social-historical processes—begins to disappear as a possibility of thought. In this situation, Critical Theory, as obsolete as some of its approaches may be, represents a salutary challenge. Further developing it would mean, while including theoretical renewals, exploring once again for the present whether the specific constitution of our social practices and institutions damages the human capacity for reason. In the second essay collected here, I have tried to sketch what individual tasks today would be connected to such a reactualization of Critical Theory. This will also make it clear why I think it makes sense to include contributions on Kant’s philosophy of history and Freud’s concept of freedom in this volume.

Along with Gunhild Mewes, whose help with the technical preparation of the manuscript was irreplaceable, I want to thank Eva Gilmer and Bernd Stiegler from Suhrkamp Verlag, who have from the beginning provided me with friendly advice on the planning of this volume.

Frankfurt am Main, February 2007

Chapter 1, translated by Robert Sinnerbrink and Jean-Philippe Deranty, appeared in Critical Horizons: A Journal of Philosophy and Social Theory 8, no. 1 (August 2007): 1–17; chapter 2, translated by James Hebbeler, appeared as Axel Honneth, A Social Pathology of Reason, in The Cambridge Companion to Critical Theory, ed. Fred Rush (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004); chapter 4, translated by James Ingram, appeared in Constellations 12, no. 1 (March 2005): 50–64; chapter 7 was originally translated by Andrew Inkpin; chapter 8, translated by Chad Kautzer, appeared in Constellations 10, no. 2 (June 2003): 247–55; chapter 10, translated by Reidar K. Maliks, appeared in Constellations 14, no. 3 (September 2007): 305–14. The translations have been more or less revised for the present volume.

ONE

THE IRREDUCIBILITY OF PROGRESS

Kant’s Account of the Relationship Between Morality and History

At the very start of the second section of his essay The Contest of the Faculties, at the center of which stands the now famous idea of signs in history, Kant mocks a certain category of the prophetic narrating of history. His ridicule is directed at all those prophets, politicians, and intellectuals who in the past presumed to be able to predict a decline of morals or a political-cultural decadence. Such soothsayings, Kant says with unconcealed irony, are nothing other than self-fulfilling prophecies. Indeed, the authors of such prophecies, through their own misdeeds, have themselves essentially contributed to history, having taken precisely the negative direction of development that they believed they could anticipate.¹ The proximity to Walter Benjamin that appears to flash up through such remarks is not accidental, nor is it trivial in relation to Kant’s work. On the lowest level of his philosophy of history, precisely where it concerns the affective meaningfulness of factual events and occurrences, Kant as much as the author of the Theses on the Philosophy of History was convinced that everything social derives from an origin that the historical interpreter cannot contemplate without horror.²

Like Benjamin, Kant sees historical development up to the present as largely a product of the intentions and deeds of the victors. Under their unjust coercion,³ the horrors and crimes against human nature⁴ pile up into veritable mountains, such that all the sensitive historical observer can perceive in this historically unordered material is one singular sighing of humanity. But Kant did not wish to remain satisfied—and here, too, there is a kinship with Benjamin—with merely chronicling such a victors’ history. At least in the last thirty years of his life, Kant was much more preoccupied with the question of whether or not the signs of a turn for the better⁵ could be elicited from the vale of tears that is the historical process. Indeed, Kant’s philosophy of history was born out of the impulse to correct the uncompensated wrongs of the past by representing such wrongs as the spur to activity . . . towards the better.⁶ Even before fulfilling any of its systematic tasks in the architectonics of his work, Kant’s philosophy of history represents the ambitious attempt to brush history against the grain in order to tear it away from the hands of the supposed victors.⁷

Admittedly, the path that Kant opens up in order to achieve this goal is completely different from that of Benjamin. While the author of the Arcades project wanted to solve this problem by attempting to resume an interrupted communication with the countless victims of the past through the construction of magical memoryimages,⁸ the Königsberg philosopher approaches the task with entirely different methodological resources. Kant was neither familiar with the perspective of a writing of history from below nor really able to foresee the ideological dangers of an unreflective optimism concerning historical progress. Instead, Kant had before him as an opponent a form of the philosophy of history that unintentionally shares the condescending view of the victors. Such a historical view has no confidence that the common people have any aptitude for moral improvement, and hence this view sees everything negativistically, as being dragged into a continuous process of decline. Kant’s attempt at a construction of historical progress is opposed to such a negative-triumphalist or, as he puts it, terroristic conception of history, within which the guilt of the dominant for the piling up of atrocities is inevitably denied.⁹

In what follows, I am interested in the question as to what kind of theoretical meaning this historical-philosophical hypothesis of progress can have that would still be relevant for our present context. To provide an answer to this question, I must, of course, avert attention from the affective sediment of the Kantian philosophy of history and bring into view its systematic grounding in the architectonics of Kant’s work. I wish to proceed by (1) reconstructing Kant’s different justifications for the assumption of historical progress and (2) explaining his presentation of this process of historical progress itself. In the course of this, I shall distinguish in both parts of my presentation between the system-conforming and the system-bursting or, so to speak, unorthodox, versions of historical progress. This is in order, finally, to be able to show at the end that only a combination of both system-bursting versions of progress can prompt us to confer a systematic meaning on the Kantian philosophy of history once again. At the same time, a new light will be cast, I hope, on the relationship between the Kantian and the Hegelian philosophy of history.

I

Kant is known to have had two, if not three, explanations for why we should have the right methodologically to comprehend human history, taken as a whole, as a purpose-directed process of progress. It is not rare to find even in one and the same text two of these justificatory approaches immediately next to one another; indeed, the impression is not entirely unjustified that Kant hesitated between these different alternatives right up to the end of his life.¹⁰ Among the competing frameworks, the one that without doubt possesses the most prominence today is the one that a series of interpreters have quite rightly designated as theoretical or cognitive¹¹ because its point of departure is a theoretical interest of our reason. Accordingly, we have at our disposal a thoroughly legitimate need to unify our view of the world, which is torn between law-governed nature and freedom. We reconstruct the unordered happenings of the past according to the heuristic theme of an intention of nature, and we do this so that it appears to us as though it were a process of political and moral progress. Kant had in fact developed this argument, in its basic features, in his essay Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Purpose (1784). But it is only in section 83 of his Critique of Judgment (1790) that we find the formulations that must have halfway satisfied Kant methodologically. If we leave out of consideration the differences between the two writings, taken together they present us with the most suitable textual foundation to illustrate Kant’s first justificatory model for the hypothesis of progress.

The starting point of this construction consists in the thesis that our reason cannot be satisfied with leaving a gulf that continues to persist between the realm of the laws of nature and the sphere of moral freedom. Rather, we possess a purely cognitive interest in giving unity to the law-governed world of appearances, a unity that is later transposed into a continuum with the principles of our practical self-determination. This need for an integration of both worlds complies with our capacity for reflective judgment. In contrast to determinative inferences or judgments, reflective judgment does not derive particulars from universal principles; rather, it can supply a universal for a plurality of particular appearances.¹² The category of purposiveness is the conceptual principle that stands at the disposal of reflective judgment, in the same aprioristic way the moral law does for practical reason and causality does for theoretical reason. If we now apply this thought of purposiveness, conceived through reflective judgment, to the field of human history, as Kant does in Critique of Judgment, section 83, we get a methodological justification of history: history’s senseless course¹³ can be understood counterfactually, so to speak, as the result of a purpose-directed intention, one that nature pursues with us human beings throughout all of our deplorable confusion.

From this point, it is only another small step to the hypothesis of progress, in which Kant’s philosophy of history culminates. To the question of which purpose it could, in fact, be, that nature, heuristically taken as a subject, has assumed with respect to human history, Kant answers in agreement with his system that this cannot be human happiness. Rather, it can only be our aptitude in general for setting [ourselves] purposes,¹⁴ hence our practical freedom. Accordingly, we are permitted to use the heuristic theme of an intention of nature for the retrospective reflection on our own history, in order to think the multitude of lamentable, seemingly chaotic events as an ordered unity. Such a unity is what the model of a directed process of improvement of our aptitude for the positing of purposes would allow us to see. The concept encompassing all the enabling conditions of such practical freedom is what Kant calls culture,¹⁵ the development of which breaks down, according to him, into the competing strands of the civilizing of our nature as need-driven beings and the improvement of our cultural and intellectual skills. This picture of a progress in human culture intended by nature, however, is only rounded out if Kant’s supplementary remark is taken into account: namely, that both the disciplining of need and the extension of mental aptitudes could only really succeed under the conditions of a civil constitutional state—indeed, a cosmopolitan arrangement ensuring peace.¹⁶

Now it is evident that Kant was never really satisfied with this first justificatory model of his hypothesis of progress. For the very fact that he added the phrase With a Cosmopolitan Purpose to the title of his essay Idea of a Universal History indicates that he also attempted to provide his construction with a practical moral justification.¹⁷ An alternative of this sort can be found everywhere in Kant’s writings that he allows the counterfactual assumption of a purpose-directed effectiveness of nature in human history to be grounded in a practical, not a theoretical, interest of our reason. The primary writings to mention in this context are On the Common Saying: ‘This May Be True in Theory but It Does Not Apply in Practice’ (1793) and Perpetual Peace (1795), both composed after the completion of the Critique of Judgment. Kant argues here in a genuinely different manner than in the framework of his first justificatory model inasmuch as he maintains that the hypothesis of historical progress is an undertaking that is indispensable as a condition of making possible and realizing the moral law. For compliance with the categorical imperative demands that we regard the realizability of the moral ought as something that itself could already be effective in the historical past. Once again, it is necessary to abstract here from the differences between the two relevant essays in order to identify very briefly the core of the Kantian argument.

This time the starting point of Kant’s reflections is not found in the viewpoint of an observer who has missed a cognitive association between nature and freedom. Rather, it is found in the perspective of an agent who knows himself or herself to be bound to the moral law. Everything Kant says in the following is therefore valid only under the restricting condition that the moral standpoint has already been taken up. For subjects with such an orientation, we must be able to say that they must regard the realizability of the moral ought as something possible if they do not want to fail in their task from the start. Indeed, already in the Critique of Practical Reason it was said that moral duty must be presupposed as possible, for it would be practically impossible to strive for the object of a concept that would be, at bottom, empty and without object.¹⁸ Now, Kant executes the decisive step in his argumentation with the thesis that this presupposition of the attainability of the morally good possesses both an intersubjective and a temporal dimension, because such a presupposition must be applied to all moral agents in the past, present, and future. We who share the moral standpoint must represent for ourselves not only our cooperating contemporaries but also the well-intentioned members of past and future generations as subjects who are convinced of the realizability of the good. With such an act of universalization, which Kant manifestly held to be unavoidable, however, the moral agent is placed in a position where he or she can no longer avoid assuming a tendency in human history toward the better. For already with the idea that the intentions of like-minded peers in the past could not have remained entirely fruitless, there unavoidably follows for Kant the idea of an increasing yield of moral deeds from generation to generation. Hence Kant believes that he can say of the subject who knows himself to be bound to the moral standpoint that such a subject must be able to represent history, in the interests of the realizability of the good, in no other way than as a movement toward the better that is never entirely broken off.¹⁹

Kant himself, however, appears to trust this second construction so little that, as with the previous one, he does not let it get by entirely without the operation that the epistemic doubter performs by means of his reflective power of judgment in the face of the gulf between freedom and necessity. The certainty of progress that the moral actor develops because he grants the same strength of will to all of his predecessors that he has to grant to himself is not sufficient, according to Kant, to equip him with an adequate measure of certainty. Hence in the end, Kant also prescribes to such an actor a proportioned use of his power of judgment in order to reassure himself against doubts that may arise about the purposiveness of nature, which visibly exhibits [a] purposive plan²⁰ arising from historical chaos. It is this retrospective reassurance regarding an intention of nature that in the last instance provides the moral actor with a feeling of guarantee that he is contributing, through his own efforts, to the advancement of a process toward the good. As the first model does for the cognitively concerned subject, Kant’s second model gives the morally hesitating subject the task of heuristically securing for itself a progress of history willed by nature, a task whereby this subject reflectively constructs and adds to the chaotic multiplicity of historical events the plan of a purpose-directed unfolding of history.

The two justificatory models that we have become acquainted with thus far are each closely connected with theoretical premises that arise from Kant’s three Critiques. In the first model, this internal connection comes to light in the idea of a progress generated by nature, which is presented as the construction that our reflective power of judgment uses to react to the cognitive dissonance between the law-governedness of nature and moral freedom. In the second model, a similar connection becomes apparent, but here Kant allows the moral agent to be ruled by a degree of doubt concerning the practical effectiveness of his actions, a move that appears necessary only under the assumption of a pure, unsullied obedience to the moral law, undisturbed by empirical inclinations. Since both constructions, as has been shown, are marked in different ways by the train of thought that Kant encountered with his two-world doctrine, it cannot be surprising that the two together, albeit for different reasons, take refuge in the concept of the power of judgment. In the first case, the hypothetical construction of an intention of nature that guarantees progress satisfies an interest of our theoretical reason; in the second case, it satisfies a need pertaining to our practical reason. The third model that emerges in broad outline in Kant’s historical-philosophical writings appears to be relatively free of additions of this sort, for the extent to which the problematic presuppositions of the two-world doctrine play a role in this model remains restricted.

A first indication of this third model can already be found in the text On the Common Saying, which in essence presented the basis for the second construction proposal I have just sketched. In an inconspicuous passage, Kant says there of Moses Mendelssohn—for Kant, the typical representative of a terroristic conception of history—that he, too, must have reckoned on a progress toward the better, since he zealously endeavored to promote the enlightenment and welfare of the nation to which he belonged.²¹ The argument Kant employs here is perhaps best described as hermeneutic but possibly also as explicative: Kant attempts to make intelligible or to explicate which concept of history someone who understands their own writerly activity as a contribution to a process of enlightenment would necessarily have to commit themselves to. A subject with such a self-understanding, Kant wants to demonstrate, has no alternative than to understand the developmental process that precedes him as the gradual achievement of something better and, conversely, to construe the time that still lies before him as an opportunity for further improvement. For the normative standards according to which this subject measures the moral quality of his current circumstances in his practical engagements demand from him that he judge the conditions of the past as inferior and the potential circumstances of the future as superior. The remark a few lines later, in which Kant attempts once again to refute Mendelssohn’s view of history, is also to be interpreted in the sense of this transcendentally necessary orientation of meaning:

That the outcry about man’s continually increasing decadence [i.e., of the human race] arises for the very reason that we can see further ahead because