An Introduction to Philosophy | Page 9

Mach, who had
been professor of physics at Prague, was called (in 1895) to the
University of Vienna to lecture on the history and theory of the
inductive sciences, he was made, not professor of physics, but professor
of philosophy.
The case, then, stands thus: a certain group of disciplines is regarded as
falling peculiarly within the province of the professor of philosophy,
and the sciences which constitute it are frequently called the
philosophical sciences; moreover, it is regarded as quite proper that the
teacher of philosophy should concern himself with the problems of
religion, and should pry into the methods and fundamental assumptions
of special sciences in all of which it is impossible that he should be an
adept. The question naturally arises: Why has his task come to be
circumscribed as it is? Why should he teach just these things and no
others?
To this question certain persons are at once ready to give an answer.
There was a time, they argue, when it seemed possible for one man to
embrace the whole field of human knowledge. But human knowledge
grew; the special sciences were born; each concerned itself with a
definite class of facts and developed its own methods. It became
possible and necessary for a man to be, not a scientist at large, but a
chemist, a physicist, a biologist, an economist. But in certain portions
of the great field men have met with peculiar difficulties; here it cannot
be said that we have sciences, but rather that we have attempts at

science. The philosopher is the man to whom is committed what is left
when we have taken away what has been definitely established or is
undergoing investigation according to approved scientific methods. He
is Lord of the Uncleared Ground, and may wander through it in his
compassless, irresponsible way, never feeling that he is lost, for he has
never had any definite bearings to lose.
Those who argue in this way support their case by pointing to the lack
of a general consensus of opinion which obtains in many parts of the
field which the philosopher regards as his own; and also by pointing
out that, even within this field, there is a growing tendency on the part
of certain sciences to separate themselves from philosophy and become
independent. Thus the psychologist and the logician are sometimes
very anxious to have it understood that they belong among the
scientists and not among the philosophers.
Now, this answer to the question that we have raised undoubtedly
contains some truth. As we have seen from the sketch contained in the
preceding pages, the word philosophy was once a synonym for the
whole sum of the sciences or what stood for such; gradually the several
sciences have become independent and the field of the philosopher has
been circumscribed. We must admit, moreover, that there is to be found
in a number of the special sciences a body of accepted facts which is
without its analogue in philosophy. In much of his work the
philosopher certainly seems to be walking upon more uncertain ground
than his neighbors; and if he is unaware of that fact, it must be either
because he has not a very nice sense of what constitutes scientific
evidence, or because he is carried away by his enthusiasm for some
particular form of doctrine.
Nevertheless, it is just to maintain that the answer we are discussing is
not a satisfactory one. For one thing, we find in it no indication of the
reason why the particular group of disciplines with which the
philosopher occupies himself has been left to him, when so many
sciences have announced their independence. Why have not these, also,
separated off and set up for themselves? Is it more difficult to work in
these fields than in others? and, if so, what reason can be assigned for

the fact?
Take psychology as an instance. How does it happen that the physicist
calmly develops his doctrine without finding it necessary to make his
bow to philosophy at all, while the psychologist is at pains to explain
that his book is to treat psychology as "a natural science," and will
avoid metaphysics as much as possible? For centuries men have been
interested in the phenomena of the human mind. Can anything be more
open to observation than what passes in a man's own consciousness?
Why, then, should the science of psychology lag behind? and why
these endless disputes as to whether it can really be treated as a "natural
science" at all?
Again. May we assume that, because certain disciplines have taken a
position of relative independence, therefore all the rest of the field will
surely come to be divided up in the same way, and that there will be
many special sciences, but no