These statements are decidedly ambiguous, owing to Kant’s failure to distinguish in any uniform and definite manner between immanent and transcendent metaphysics.[155] The term metaphysics is used to cover both. Sometimes it signifies the one, sometimes the other; while in still other passages its meaning is neutral. But if we draw the distinction, Kant’s answer is that a genuine and valid immanent metaphysics is for the first time rendered possible by his Critique; its positive content is expounded in the Analytic. Transcendent metaphysics, on the other hand, is criticised in the Dialectic; it is never possible. The existing speculative sciences transgress the limits of experience and yield only a pretence of knowledge. This determination of the limits of our possible a priori knowledge is the second great achievement of the Critique. Thus the Critique serves a twofold purpose. It establishes a new a priori system of metaphysics, and also determines on principles equally a priori the ultimate limits beyond which metaphysics can never advance. The two results, positive and negative, are inseparable and complementary. Neither should be emphasised to the neglect of the other.

Comment on the Argument of Kant’s Introduction

This Introduction, though a document of great historical importance as being the first definite formulation of the generating problem of Kant’s new philosophy, is extremely unsatisfactory as a statement of Critical teaching. The argument is developed in terms of distinctions which are borrowed from the traditional logic, and which are not in accordance with the transcendental principles that Kant is professing to establish. This is, indeed, a criticism which may be passed upon the Critique as a whole. Though Kant was conscious of opening a new era in the history of philosophy, and compares his task with that of Thales, Copernicus, Bacon and Galileo, it may still be said that he never fully appreciated the greatness of his own achievement. He invariably assumes that the revolutionary consequences of his teaching will not extend to the sphere of pure logic. They concern, as he believed, only our metaphysical theories regarding the nature of reality and the determining conditions of our human experience. As formal logic prescribes the axiomatic principles according to which all thinking must proceed, its validity is not affected by the other philosophical disciplines, and is superior to the considerations that determine their truth or falsity. Its distinctions may be securely relied upon in the pioneer labours of Critical investigation. This was, of course, a very natural assumption for Kant to make; and many present-day thinkers will maintain that it is entirely justified. Should that be our attitude, we may approve of Kant’s general method of procedure, but shall be compelled to dissent from much in his argument and from many of his chief conclusions. If, on the other hand, we regard formal logic as in any degree adequate only as a theory of the thought processes involved in the formation and application of the generic or class concept,[156] we shall be prepared to find that the equating of this highly specialised logic with logic in general has resulted in the adoption of distinctions which may be fairly adequate for the purposes in view of which they have been formulated, but which must break down when tested over a wider field. So far from condemning Kant for departing in his later teaching from these hard and fast distinctions, we shall welcome every sign of his increasing independence.

Kant was not, of course, so blind to the real bearing of his principles as to fail to recognise that they have logical implications.[157] He speaks of the new metaphysics which he has created as being a transcendental logic. It is very clear, however, that even while so doing he does not regard it as in any way alternative to the older logic, but as moving upon a different plane, and as yielding results which in no way conflict with anything that formal logic may teach. Indeed Kant ascribes to the traditional logic an almost sacrosanct validity. Both the general framework of the Critique and the arrangement of the minor subdivisions are derived from it. It is supposed to afford an adequate account of discursive thinking, and such supplement as it may receive is regarded as simply an extension of its carefully delimited field. There are two logics, that of discursive or analytic reasoning, and that of synthetic interpretation. The one is formal; the other is transcendental. The one was created by Aristotle, complete at a stroke; Kant professes to have formulated the other in an equally complete and final manner.

This latter claim, which is expressed in the most unqualified terms in the Prefaces to the first and second editions, is somewhat startling to a modern reader, and would seem to imply the adoption of an ultra-rationalistic attitude, closely akin to that of Wolff.

“In this work I have made completeness my chief aim, and I venture to assert that there is not a single metaphysical problem which has not been solved, or for the solution of which the key at least has not been supplied. Reason is, indeed, so perfect a unity that if its principle were insufficient for the solution of even a single one of all the questions to which it itself gives birth, we should be justified in forthwith rejecting it as incompetent to answer, with perfect certainty, any one of the other questions.”[158] “Metaphysics has this singular advantage, such as falls to the lot of no other science which deals with objects (for logic is concerned only with the form of thought in general), that should it, through this Critique, be set upon the secure path of science, it is capable of acquiring exhaustive knowledge of its entire field. It can finish its work and bequeath it to posterity as a capital that can never be added to. For metaphysics has to deal only with principles, and with the limits of their employment as determined by these principles themselves. Since it is a fundamental science, it is under obligation to achieve this completeness. We must be able to say of it: nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum.”[159]

These sanguine expectations—by no means supported by the after-history of Kant’s system—are not really due to Kant’s immodest over-estimate of the importance of his work. They would rather seem to be traceable, on the one hand to his continuing acceptance of rationalistic assumptions proper only to the philosophy which he is displacing, and on the other to his failure to appreciate the full extent of the revolutionary consequences which his teaching was destined to produce in the then existing philosophical disciplines. Kant, like all the greatest reformers, left his work in the making. Both his results and his methods call for modification and extension in the light of the insight which they have themselves rendered possible. Indeed, Kant was himself constantly occupied in criticising and correcting his own acquired views; and this is nowhere more evident than in the contrast between the teaching of this Introduction and that of the central portions of the Analytic. But even the later expressions of his maturer views reveal the persisting conflict. They betray the need for further reconstruction, even in the very act of disavowing it. Not an additional logic, but the demonstration of the imperative need for a complete revisal of the whole body of logical science, is the first, and in many respects the chief, outcome of his Critical enquiries.

The broader bearings of the situation may perhaps be indicated as follows. If our account of Kant’s awakening from his dogmatic slumber[160] be correct, it consisted in his recognition that self-evidence will not suffice to guarantee any general principle. The fundamental principles of our experience are synthetic. That is to say, their opposite is in all cases conceivable. Combining this conclusion with his previous conviction that they can never be proved by induction from observed facts, he was faced with the task of establishing rationalism upon a new and altogether novel basis. If neither empirical facts nor intuitive self-evidence may be appealed to, in what manner can proof proceed? And how can we make even a beginning of demonstration, if our very principles have themselves to be established? Principles are never self-evident, and yet principles are indispensable. Such was Kant’s unwavering conviction as regards the fundamental postulates alike of knowledge and of conduct.

This is only another way of stating that Kant is the real founder of the Coherence theory of truth.[161] He never himself employs the term Coherence, and he constantly adopts positions which are more in harmony with a Correspondence view of the nature and conditions of knowledge. But all that is most vital in his teaching, and has proved really fruitful in its after-history, would seem to be in line with the positions which have since been more explicitly developed by such writers as Lotze, Sigwart, Green, Bradley, Bosanquet, Jones and Dewey, and which in their tenets all derive from Hegel’s restatement of Kant’s logical doctrines. From this point of view principles and facts mutually establish one another, the former proving themselves by their capacity to account for the relevant phenomena, and the latter distinguishing themselves from irrelevant accompaniments by their conformity to the principles which make insight possible. In other words, all proof conforms in general type to the hypothetical method of the natural sciences. Kant’s so-called transcendental method, the method by which he establishes the validity of the categories, is itself, as we have already observed,[162] of this character. Secondly, the distinction between the empirical and the a priori must not be taken (as Kant himself takes it in his earlier, and occasionally even in his later utterances) as marking a distinction between two kinds of knowledge. They are elements inseparably involved in all knowledge. And lastly, the contrast between analysis and synthesis becomes a difference not of kind but of degree. Nothing can exist or be conceived save as fitted into a system which gives it meaning and decides as to its truth. In the degree to which it can be studied in relative independence of the supporting system analysis will suffice; in the degree to which it refers us to this system it calls for synthetic interpretation. But ultimately the needs of adequate understanding must constrain us to the employment of both methods of enquiry. Nothing can be known save in terms of the wider whole to which it belongs.

There is, however, one important respect in which Kant diverges in very radical fashion from the position of Hegel. The final whole to which all things must be referred is represented to us only through an “Idea,” for which no corresponding reality can ever be found. The system which decides what is to be regarded as empirically real is the mechanical system of natural science. We have no sufficient theoretical criterion of absolute reality.