What Was Analytic Philosophy? Panu Raatikainen It has become commonplace to talk about the difference between "analytic philosophy" and "continental philosophy", and many philosophers identify themselves as "analytic philosophers", or "continental philosophers". But what, more precisely, is meant by these labels, is much less clear than one usually seems to assume. There are differing views about the nature of analytic philosophy, and about who exactly count as real analytic philosophers. Literally taken, the dichotomy analytic-continental is obviously problematic. As Bernard Williams has remarked, dividing philosophy to analytic and continental involves a strange crossclassification-rather as though one divided cars into front-wheel drive and Japanese. Furthermore, this terminology does not harmonize well with the fact that the roots of analytic philosophy are strongly in continental Europe: its important background figure Frege, its opinion leader Wittgenstein, and the paradigmatic representatives of it, the logical positivists of the Vienna Circle, were all from the continent. Neither is the interest in "continental philosophy" confined to the European continent. (Williams 1995) By more substantive criteria, analytic philosophy is sometimes contrasted with the phenomenological tradition and its offspring. Often one means, by "analytic philosophy", loosely the tradition-in its all variety-which in some sense begun from Frege, on the one hand, and from Russell and Moore, on the other hand, and which has been somewhat dominating especially in the AngloAmerican countries. But in addition to the fact that this is quite a vague characterization-perhaps intolerably so-usually this way of understanding analytic philosophy is based on historically problematic interpretations of Frege, Russell and Moore as philosophers of linguistic analysis-as the first representatives of the later dominating pure analytic philosophy (more on this below). But be that as it may, standardly one takes as the paradigmatic analytic philosophy on the one hand the logical positivism of the Vienna Circle and more broadly the logical empiricism that emerged from it, and, on the other hand, the philosophy of linguistic analysis which used to be dominant in Cambridge and Oxford, and its kin. The heyday of both was from 1930s to 1950s. Further, one often counts, as analytic philosophy, philosophy which has in some way or other been influenced by these schools. As examples of analytical philosophers are often mentioned such philosophers as Strawson, Searle, Dummett, Quine, Davidson, Lewis, Kripke and Putnam-though, in the case of some of them, it is more controversial whether they really belong to the circle of analytic philosophy (see below). At this point, the borders of analytic philosophy begin to blur. In fact, a lively discussion on what exactly analytic philosophy is emerged in 1990s. The main activators of the debate were Michael Dummett (1993) and G.H. von Wright (1993), who received numerous differing reactions. It turns out the views of even those who should be in the know diverge considerably here. Hans-Johann Glock's book What is Analytic Philosophy (2008) is an extended contribution to this dispute-apparently the most comprehensive and detailed one up to now. There is no question that it is obligatory reading for anyone interested in this issue, and everyone can learn a lot from it. Glock makes numerous insightful points, and he successfully rebuts many popular attempts to characterize analytic philosophy. Nevertheless, in the end, I am still inclined to disagree about the fundamental question, the nature and demarcation of analytic philosophy.1 I shall focus on motivating my own alternative view, rather than on commenting on the details of Glock's rich account. I'll try to make my discussion sufficiently self-contained. Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [11]© Panu Raatikainen The Relation to Science and Formal Logic Analytic philosophy is often understood as a philosophy which specifically relates, in some way, to science, or is "scientific philosophy". Simon Critchley, for example, submits that its antiscientism is the essential aspect which distinguishes "continental philosophy" from analytic philosophy-apparently suggesting that scientism somehow characterizes the latter (Critchley 1998). David Cooper in turn states that "Anglo-American (or 'analytic') philosophy has tended, over the last 90 years, to be much more 'science-friendly' than European philosophy' (Cooper 1996.) Also von Wright talks about "alliance" of analytic philosophy with science and technology, and calls analytic philosophy "an offspring of belief in progress in science" (von Wright 1993, 25). Hacker too says that almost from its inception, "it was allied with the spirit of rationality and science" (Hacker 1998). But though the preceding may be true of logical positivists, for example, this characterization does not fit well e.g. to Wittgenstein (as von Wright too notices), who is often counted as an analytic philosopher; more importantly, it does not adequately describe one paradigmatic example of analytic philosophy, the linguistic philosophy of Cambridge and Oxford in 1930s-1950s, which was at least unimpressed by, if not-like Wittgenstein-even somewhat hostile towards modern natural science (cf. Glock 2008, 6.2). And in any case, it has been central for many philosophers usually counted as analytic, such as Wittgenstein, ordinary language philosophers, but also logical positivists, to emphasize the radical qualitative difference between philosophy and science (see below). Peter Hacker, on the other hand, excludes Quine outside of analytic philosophy exactly because he takes Quine as advocating scientism. He contrasts Quine with Wittgenstein, who he considers a paradigmatic analytic philosopher, according to whom the temptation to think that philosophy should answer questions, construct theories and strive for explanations on the model of the sciences is a great source of philosophical confusion. Hacker cites Wittgenstein saying (Blue Book, 18), "this tendency is the real source of metaphysics, and leads the philosopher to complete darkness" (Hacker 1998, 117). In other words, Hacker here seems to take anti-scientism as an essential characteristic of analytic philosophy (Hacker 1996, 1998). Still, some sort of scientism was certainly typical for logical positivism, for example, and Russell too advocated a "scientific method in philosophy". Consequently, it would also be a mistake to take anti-scientism as the essential trait of analytic philosophy (cf. Sluga 1998). Both ideas lead to equally artificial consequences: some paradigmatic analytic philosophers would be excluded outside. Neither enthusiasm nor criticality towards science can thus be taken as the basic criterion of analytic philosophy. Often analytic philosophy is also associated with new formal logic. And there is indeed no question that it has had, for its own part, an important role in the development of analytic philosophy. However, it is not something that is central for analytic philosophy as a whole: exercising formal logic is neither necessary nor sufficient for one to be an analytic philosopher. Perhaps the greatest figure in contemporary logic, Kurt Gödel, advocated very strong Platonism and rationalism, quite foreign for mainstream analytic philosophy, and was increasingly sympathetic towards phenomenological philosophy (see, e.g., Tieszen 1998). In addition, several other important logicians such Hermann Weyl, Arend Heyting and Per Martin-Löf have founded their logical ideas on phenomenological philosophy. The philosophy of Alan Badiou, a continental philosopher, leans heavily on advanced theories of mathematical logic. Furthermore, emphasizing formal logic as the distinguishing feature of analytic philosophy would again exclude both later Wittgenstein and the ordinary language philosophy of Cambridge and Oxford, for example, which were quite critical towards formal logic. Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [12] In sum, neither any certain relation to science nor the use of formal logic can be seen as the essential trait of analytic philosophy. The Method of Analysis, and Argumentative Philosophy One obvious approach is to focus on the word "analytic", or "analysis", and understand analytic philosophy as philosophy which practices philosophical analysis-in some sense of the word.2 Ray Monk (Monk 1996) and-at times-also Hacker suggest that the characteristic trait of analytic philosophy is analysis understood quite literally as dividing a complex to its simple parts. Indeed, Hacker distinguishes three different phases in the development of analytic philosophy on the basis of the kind of analysis that was in question: 1) metaphysical analysis (early Russell and Moore); 2) reductive analysis (early Wittgenstein, Russell's logical atomism, logical positivism, etc.); 3) connective or conceptual analysis (ordinary language philosophy etc.). Hans Sluga has, however, criticized Hacker for taking analytic philosophy as a predominantly British phenomenon; in contrast, Sluga wants to emphasize the Kantian and in general the continental background of Frege and Wittgenstein, for example (Sluga 1998; cf. Glock 2008, Ch. 3). In any case, promoting "analysis" to be the essence of analytic philosophy leads to many problems. To begin with, it is not clear how well it describes later Wittgenstein, the ordinary language philosophy following him, or Quine and his followers. All of these denied, in different ways, that a sentence has some unique analysis. Then again, many philosophers who are presumably not analytic philosophers have also practiced some sort of philosophical analysis: the approach of Brentano, the "grandfather" of phenomenology, was explicitly analytical, and what is even more important, Husserl-the founder of the phenomenological school-followed him here and talked about phenomenological analysis. It is also plausible to claim that Socrates, Aristotle, Descartes, Locke and Kant, for example, all practiced philosophical analysis (cf. Glock 2008, 6.1). Emphasizing the method of analysis as the essence of analytic philosophy leads Monk to the rather peculiar conclusion that Frege, Russell, Meinong and Husserl belong to the same camp because they believe in analysis, but that Wittgenstein belongs to the opposite side; he concludes that the opposite of analytic is not continental or phenomenological but Wittgensteinian (Monk 1996). One should compare this to Hacker (1998), who takes Wittgenstein as a paradigmatic representative of analytic philosophy. Clearly taking analysis as the distinguishing mark does not demarcate the tradition in the intended way. Dagfinn Føllesdal (1997) rebuts analysis as essential for analytic philosophy and gives as a counterexample Quine, who did not believe in analysis, but according to him is nevertheless without doubt an analytic philosopher (Hacker, though, would disagree; see above). He also discards the genetic approach based on the history of influence. For this, Føllesdal presents as a counterexample Bolzano, whom he takes unquestionably to be an analytic philosopher, because he anticipated many ideas of Frege, Carnap, Tarski and Quine (also Dummett talks about him as "the great grandfather of analytic philosophy"), but did not really influence later analytic philosophers, but rather was relevant for the development of the phenomenological tradition. Føllesdal proposes that the systematic connection is sufficient. The positive conclusion of Føllesdal is that what characterizes analytic philosophy is argumentation and justification. This, however, is clearly much too broad a characterization. Most philosophers thorough the history of philosophy should then be counted as analytic philosophers. It is certainly reasonable to require that the concept of "analytic philosophy" is kept sufficiently specific such that it does not Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [13] include all of mainstream western philosophy. As Hacker puts it: "If the term 'analytic philosophy' is to be useful as a classificatory term for the historian of philosophy, it must do more work than merely to distinguish mainstream western philosophy from the reflections of philosophical sages or prophets, such as Pascal or Nietzsche, and from the obscurities of speculative metaphysicians, such as Hegel, Bradley or Heidegger." (Hacker 1996, 3) Characterizations in terms of analysis and argumentation fail to do exactly this. The Linguistic Turn Dummett (1993, 4) has proposed that what distinguishes analytic philosophy, in its diverse manifestations, from other schools is the belief, first, that a philosophical account of thought can be attained through a philosophical account of language, and, secondly, that a comprehensive account can only be so attained. He points out that the logical postitivists, Wittgenstein in all phases, Oxford 'ordinary language' philosophy, and post-Carnapian philosophy in the United States all adhered to this conception of philosophy. Slightly different, but similar in spirit, is the characterization used by Sluga in his book on Frege (Sluga 1980, 2), who at the time took as the basic idea of analytic philosophy that the philosophy of language is the foundation of all the rest of philosophy. In fact Dummett had earlier described analytic philosophy in more or less the same way: "we can characterise analytical philosophy as that which follows Frege in accepting that the philosophy of language is the foundation of the rest of the subject" (Dummett: 1978, 441). Dummett also states that analytic philosophy was born when the 'linguistic turn' was taken. The general idea also harmonizes well with the fact that in German-speaking countries, the label "language-analytic philosophy" is often used for analytical philosophy. Hacker (1998) cannot, however, accept such suggestions, because they exclude Russell and Moore outside analytic philosophy. Dummett (1993) as well as Kenny (1995) locate the linguistic turn in philosophy to Frege and his context principle in 1884. I find this, though, quite an artificial way of locating the turn. Hacker (1998), for example, notices that the context principle in fact occurred already in Bentham in 1813, but there is no reason to attribute the linguistic turn in philosophy to him (cf. Glock 2008, 124). There are also good reasons to think, pace Dummett, that Frege was not yet any sort of "linguistic philosopher" (see e.g. Weiner 1997; cf. Glock 2008, 131). I am inclined to agree with Hacker (and many others, including Glock) that it was only Wittgenstein who really brought about the linguistic turn in philosophy. Hacker himself, however, adds that the linguistic turn took place later than the birth of analytical philosophy; namely, he takes it for granted that Moore and Russell were analytical philosophers because they exercised philosophical analysis (we've already found, though, this reason wanting). Glock agrees with him here (at least about the classification). Also Monk (1996) protests against Dummett's strong linguistic criterion and notes that it would follow that Russell never was an analytical philosopher. For Monk, however, Russell is the very epitome of an analytic philosopher. According to Monk, Dummett's characterization which emphasizes the linguistic turn does not at all take into account analysis as the central feature of analytical philosophy. Still, we have already noted that using analysis as the essential characteristic leads to at least as deep troubles. Now Hacker is prepared to accept the conclusion that Frege wasn't an analytic philosopher but only an influential background figure of the movement. But, one may ask, why not to be consistent and admit the same conclusion with respect to Russell and Moore (Dummett, for one, seems to think so, though not with respect to Frege)-or, at least, allow it is a coherent option? (More of Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [14] this below). Be that as it may, we may note that it is not uncontroversial that Frege, Russell and Moore are analytic philosophers. Tradition and influence history Many (e.g. Hacker and Sluga) end up approaching the characterization problem of analytic philosophy-not on the basis of any substantial doctrine or such, but-genetically, considering it as a continuum of philosophers and schools which have influenced each other or have been in a dialogical connection with each other. Also von Wright concludes that the question of what should count as analytic philosophy is not easy to answer: "In many cases a genetic relationship either to Cambridge or Vienna is the only criterion to go by" (von Wright 1993, 47). But he adds: "The picture of analytic philosophy which I have tried to draw becomes increasingly confused and unsurveyable as we move closer to the present (von Wright 1993, 49)-confused and unsurveyable indeed, as I shall try to show next. In reality, there has been much more dialog and interaction between "continental" and "analytic" philosophers than the popular picture suggests. As the genetic approach to our characterization problem is particularly popular, I shall consider in a little more detail the various philosophical figures who are supposedly central for the traditions at issue, and their interactions. To begin with, Frege, who is often taken either as the founder of analytic philosophy or at least an essential background figure for it, apparently influenced Husserl, the founder of the phenomenological tradition, via his critique of the early work of the latter (see e.g.. Føllesdal 1994); they were later in correspondence, and fought alongside against "psychologism". Russell's famous theory of definite descriptions, which became a kind of "paradigm" for analytic philosophy, is in part an attempt to solve a central problem of the phenomenological tradition, namely Brentano's problem of "intentional inexistence" (that is, how it is possible to think about something which does not exist); it was developed as a direct reaction to the ideas of Meinong, who was a central figure in early phenomenology. Brentano, who was the most important background figure for the phenomenological tradition, also indirectly influenced Moore. Namely, George Stout, who was a teacher of Moore and Russell, popularized Brentano's thought for the English-speaking audience in his book Analytic Psychology from 1896. "Analytic psychology" was Stout's translation for Brentano's "descriptive psychology"-that is, for what Brentano sometimes used "phenomenology" as a synonym; this book had a deep and visible impact on Moore (see Bell 1999). The Brentanian part-whole analysis and the act-object distinction were clearly reflected in Moore's important analysis of judgments and his famous refutation of idealism. We can perhaps even speculate that analytic philosophy may well have inherited "analytic" from this source-that is, from phenomenology! Both Russell and later Ryle considered Logical Investigations by Husserl in particular as an excellent book (Russell even had a copy with him in prison in 1918)-as did indirectly also Moore (Künne 1990). Carnap's Aufbau contains many references to it too; and Carnap attended Husserl's seminar in Freiburg in 1924-25. Moore acted as chair when Husserl lectured in London in 1922. Furthermore, it has been discovered that Wittgenstein's Tractatus, a key work in the analytical tradition, was strongly influenced by the philosophy of Schopenhauer (and at least indirectly, by Kant) (see e.g. Stenius 1960), and it is known that Wittgenstein frequently read Kierkegaard-both of whom are usually counted as "continental" philosophers. Neo-Kantianism had in turn a considerable impact on some members of the Vienna Circle, e.g. Schlick and Carnap (see Sauer 1989); the latter also thought well of Nietzsche-another influential figure in the continental tradition. Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [15] The Polish school of logician-philosophers (i.e., the so-called Lvov-Warsaw school including Leśniewski, Łukasiewicz and Tarski) is usually regarded as part of the analytical tradition. It was founded, though, by Twardowski, who was a student of Brentano and a central figure of early phenomenology (see e.g. Skolimowski 1967, Woleński 1989). Further, Husserl's theory of meaning categories had a visible influence to Leśniewski and Tarski. Gilbert Ryle, who has been even called "the king of analytical philosophy", is a particularly interesting case. Namely, as a young man he studied Brentano, Husserl and Heidegger in depth, and gave lectures called "Bolzano, Brentano, Meinong and Husserl: four realists" in Cambridge in the late 1920s. Ryle also wrote a rather extensive and mainly positive review of Heidegger's Sein und Zeit for Mind in 1929. In 1931, he "converted" to orthodox analytic philosophy, but still followed phenomenological literature, and gave a talk dealing with phenomenology in the Aristotelian Society in 1932. As late as in 1946 Ryle published quite a positive review of The Foundations of Phenomenology by Martin Farber. In the discussion that followed the talk of Ryle in the famous Royaumont-seminar organized in France in 1958 (e.g. Ayer and Quine were also among the attendees), the phenomenologist Merleau-Ponty did not see any major difference between his own thinking and that of Ryle, but saw their projects as parallel and compatible: "I have also had the impression, while listening to Mr. Ryle, that what he was saying was not so strange to us, and that the distance, if there is a distance, is one that he puts between us rather than one I find there." The discussion also shows that Merleau-Ponty knew quite well Wittgenstein's later philosophy (see Merleau-Ponty 1992). Still at this time, one would seem to have had all the contentual prerequisites to continue enlightening dialogue. In addition, Michael Murray has proposed that Ryle's Concept of Mind, one of the principal works in analytic philosophy contains numerous parallels with Heidegger's Sein und Zeit. Murray has even suggested that these might be direct influences from the time when Ryle studied the work intensively. Ryle seems to grant that this may be possible (see Murray 1978). It is commonplace to interpret at least Carnap's severe critique of Heidegger in Erkenntnis in 1932 as a sign of an unbridgeable gap between the two philosophical traditions; Carnap then accused Heidegger of producing meaningless metaphysics (Carnap 1932). The truth of the relationship between Carnap and Heidegger is, however, more complicated (see Friedman 1996); Carnap attended Heidegger's lectures on Kant and metaphysics in 1929, and the two had many conversations. Carnap was clearly impressed by Heidegger, and read Sein und Zeit seriously, and even actively participated in a reading group in which the book was studied. When Carnap then, in his famous 1932 article on the elimination of metaphysics, took Heidegger's sentence on Nothing as an example of a meaningless statement, it is useful to note that he did not accuse it of not being verifiable, but of violating the grammar of logic and the logical form of the concept of nothing. Contrary to the popular view, the two philosophers understood well where the basis of their disagreement was: the metaphysical thinking Heidegger tried to achieve was possible only if the authority of formal logic was given up; the difference between them was only in that Heidegger was willing to do this, and Carnap was not. More specifically, for Heidegger the examination of the meaning of Being preceded logic, while for Carnap (at that time) the Russellian logic preceded everything else. Carnap's view in those days is not necessarily representative of analytic philosophy in general; Wittgenstein, for example, said in a discussion with the Vienna Circle that he understood what Heidegger aimed at. It is also important to note that Carnap in the same article recommended, instead of metaphysics (for which he Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [16] interpreted-rightly or wrongly-Heidegger's philosophy), the Nietzschean poetic style, which does not even pretend to be science-like and to make statements about the reality, for expressing the attitude towards life. Then again, Carnap himself accepted, only a year later, what he called "the principle of tolerance", according to which there is no such thing as the "true" or "correct" logic or language, but one is free to adopt whatever form of language is useful for one's purposes. This new view undermines the foundations of his earlier critique of Heidegger. Heidegger in turn became increasingly pessimistic concerning his project of "fundamental ontology" and moved towards a more poetic style-that is, towards the very Nietzschean approach that Carnap had recommended. It should also be noted that the accusations of meaningless metaphysical talk were ordinary in the mutual debates between the logical positivists; Neurath in particular blamed the "Wittgensteinians" of the Vienna Circle, Schlick and Waismann, for meaningless metaphysics (for example, when they advocated the correspondence theory of truth). It is quite clear that when the relationship between Heidegger and Carnap (and others) then became more polemic in the 1930s, it was a question of something else than of a purely philosophical disagreement. The polemic was part of a much broader social, political and cultural controversy: the radically leftist logical positivists, inspired by the modernist ideals of progress, and the conservative Heidegger who was delighted by romanticism, were in these respects at the opposite extremes (see Friedman 1996). (Wittgenstein and many of his followers were, by the way, certainly much closer to Heidegger than the positivists here.) Neurath wrote quite revealingly: "The idealistic school philosophers of our day from Spann to Heidegger want to rule, as the theologians once ruled; but the scholastics could support themselves of the substructure of the feudal order of production, whereas our school philosophers do not notice that their substructure is being pulled out from beneath their feet." (Neurath 1932) Although Heidegger and the logical positivists had later on a distant relationship, to say the least, this does not yet prove that there is a general contentual gap between the two philosophical traditions. The mutual relationships between some key analytic philosophers were not that friendly either. Wittgenstein was not able to tolerate Carnap, and Dummett recalls that in the 1940s, Oxford philosophers considered their worst enemy to be-not Heidegger, for example, but-Carnap Dummett 1978, 437). Russell did not see any value in the later philosophy of Wittgenstein, and thought that the ordinary language philosophy which it inspired was simply a disaster for philosophy. Nevertheless, all these philosophers are usually counted as representatives of the one and same analytic tradition. On the continental side, Foucault never forgave Derrida for having called him an idiot. And presumably the relationship between Husserl and Heidegger also became more distant when Heidegger, as the Rector of the university, among other things denied the "Jewish" Husserl access to the university library in the 1930s. If then, in the years that followed the break between Heidegger and the Vienna Circle, there was not much communication between the philosophy exercised in Nazi Germany and France, which was occupied by the Germans, and the philosophy practiced in the opposing England and the United States, it may perhaps be reasonable to look for reasons other than the contentual philosophical issues. It is worth noting, on the other hand, that the analytic tradition and the German hermeneutical and critical tradition have been, after the Second World War, able to have quite smooth dialogue. Gadamer, Apel and Habermas-all followers of Heidegger-have become, since the 1960s, part of the general international philoJournal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [17] sophical discussion-there does not appear to have been any deep gap that would have made the dialogue impossible. In the 1970s Apel, a key representative of the hermeneutical tradition, was even prepared to admit that the analytic tradition can provide conceptual tools which are in some respects superior in understanding the core question of the hermeneutic tradition, the relationship between explanation and understanding: "Now, the special interest of this third stage [of the explanation-understanding controversy], from the view–point of a continental observer, lies in the fact that in this context at least some concerns, motives and even arguments of the older 'hermeneutic' tradition ... are taken up and defended with the aid of a highly sophisticated argumentation technique which seems to be much better suited for the problematic of modern philosophy of science than the old ways of arguing used by Dilthey and his continental followers. " (Apel 1976) The case of contemporary French philosophy is undoubtedly quite different. When the dialogical connection with the phenomenological tradition was once lost, because of the war, it has been difficult to re-create. The problem has been not only the various prejudices and diverged philosophical vocabulary, but perhaps also the numerous quick changes in the philosophical climate, from existentialism to structuralism and post-structuralism. It is understandable that it has been very difficult, from the outside, to get a grip on this moving and changing, and admittedly an arcane subject. Yet, it should be noted what even such a paradigmatic "continental" thinker as Derrida says of himself as an alleged representative of continental philosophy: "Among the many reasons that make me unqualified to represent a 'prominent philosophical tradition', there is this one: I consider myself to be in many respects quite close to Austin, both interested in and indebted to his problematic" (Derrida 1988, 38). It may also be worth noting that Lyotard, a well-known figure in the continental side and a key architect of post-modernist philosophy, founded the latter on the Wittgensteinian idea of the diverging language-games rather than to some typically "continental" concepts and ideas. (Lyotard 1984) On the other hand, it can be noted that Ian Hacking, a leading Anglo-American philosopher of science, openly acknowledges his debt to Foucault. Further, Richard Rorty, educated as an analytic philosopher, and one of the best known names in the current Anglo-American philosophy, has later on been so much influenced by Heidegger, Gadamer and Derrida, that it is deeply unclear which tradition he should be classified as representative of. Be that as it may, the purpose of the above somewhat rambling review is to show that the simple considerations of who knew whom, who had a dialogical connection with whom, and who were not in speaking terms, simply fail to distinguish the tradition of analytic philosophy in the intended way. It has been also suggested, now and then, that "analytic philosophy" is a family-resemblance concept (in the sense of the later Wittgenstein), i.e., that there is no definition of the concept, but, roughly, it is based on a number of different, overlapping strands. This approach, though, also faces intolerable obstacles, for it is in fact again much too inclusive (see Glock 228, 218-9). Glock, however, suggests that we combine a historical (or genetic) and a family resemblance approach (p. 223), and that this would circumvent the limits of both approaches when taken separately. I am afraid I am much less optimistic. It may well be that if one begins with the sloppy way the term "analytic philosophy" is typically used today, and with the rather inclusive list of thinkers who are supposedly analytic philosophers, this is the best that can be said. The resulting criterion is, however, overly complex, and does not really help us at all to determine whether a given thinker is an analytic philosopher or not (even if we agree that there will Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [18] always be borderline cases). And as Glock himself says, "Classification should be easy" (Glock 2008, 211). It also remains unclear how many generations one should keep on using the label "analytic philosophy" simply because there always are some overlapping strands and extended chains of influence. The "Original Meaning" of "Analytic Philosophy" The fact that scholars who, if anyone, should know, are so divided and unclear about the issue shows how poorly understood term "analytic philosophy" really is. The discussion seems to have ended in dead lock. If we combine the various criteria suggested by the leading experts in the field, we may conclude either that no one has ever been an analytic philosopher, or that nearly all philosophers were (cf. Glock, 204: "We certainly face an impasse.") However, instead of declaring "analytic philosophy" a meaningless pseudo-concept, I'll try to make a fresh new start, and take a closer look at when and how one first started to use the term "analytic philosophy". Perhaps that could shed some new light on the issue. It may come as a surprise to many how late the name expression "analytic philosophy" became more widely used. Apparently the term "analytic philosophy" was used publicly for the first time as late as in 1936, by an American philosopher, Ernst Nagel, as a young student travelling in Europe, in his review article, "Impressions and appraisals of analytic philosophy in Europe (I-II)" (Nagel, 1936). He wrote: "In the first place, the men with whom I have talked are impatient with philosophic systems built in the traditionally grand manner. Their preoccupation is with philosophy as analysis; they take for granted a body of authentic knowledge acquired by the special sciences, and are concerned not with adding to it in the way research in these sciences adds to it, but with clarifying its meaning and implications. ... In the second place, as a consequence of this conception of the task of philosophy, concern with formulating the method of philosophic analysis dominates all these places." (Nagel 1936, 6) A couple of years later, Max Black gave at the fourth International Congress for the Unity of Science, in Cambridge, a lecture "Relations Between Logical positivism and the Cambridge School of Analysis" (Black 1938). Black sometimes used the term "analytic philosophy", but often with an additional qualification "analytic philosophy in England", and it remains unclear whether he counted logical positivism as a part of analytic philosophy or not. In 1945, Gustav Bergmann said, in a somewhat critical article, that analytic philosophers "are interested in the individual clarifications that are peculiar to this kind of philosophising." (Bergmann, 1945) Both Nagel and Bergman (cf. also Pap's list below) include within analytic philosophy: (1) the Cambridge philosophy of analysis: both refer to Moore and Wittgenstein, and their successors (Nagel mentions Russell only in passing; for Black, this is what the analytic philosophy is); and (2) the logical positivism of the Vienna Circle, and its allies (Nagel mentions incidentally also the Polish school of logic, but does not really discuss it). We now begin to get a clearer picture of what analytic philosophy, at least its purest form, has been: it was the union of these two schools to which the term "analytic philosophy" originally, in its early uses in the 1930-40s, mainly referred-they were the paradigmatic examples of analytic philosophy. (Accordingly, Searle says that "it is possible to locate a central period of analytic philosophy-the period comprising, roughly speaking, the logical positivist phase immediately prior to the 1939-45 war and the post-war phase of linguistic analysis." (Searle 1995)) Even after this, the expression "analytic philosophy" occurred very infrequently in the literature. Von Wright (1993) conjectures, Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [19] and Hacker (1998, 274) apparently agrees (see also Glock 2008, 44), that the name became common only as an effect of the books by Arthur Pap: Elements of Analytic Philosophy (1949), and Analytische Erkenntnistheorie (1955). I see no reason to disagree. Pap says-and this harmonizes quite well with the above early characterizations-that in what he broadly calls "analytic philosophy", four major factions should be distinguished: "(1) the Carnapians who practice the construction of ideal, formalized languages in which the basic concepts common to all the sciences (like "logical consequence", "degree of confirmation", "truth") admit of exact definitions, (2) the followers of G.E: Moore who bestow their attention almost exclusively on the language of common sense and insist on conformity to "common usage" as the prime condition to be satisfied by a logical analysis of concept, (3) the Wittgensteinians or "therapeutic positivists", for whom philosophy is not a discipline aiming at some sort of knowledge or intellectual discovery, but a method of revealing the linguistic confusions that give rise to philosophical "problems", and of solving those perennial problems by showing that there were no genuine problems to begin with, (4) philosophers who are engaged in the clarification of the foundations of the sciences and, perhaps, of knowledge in general by means of detailed, patient analyses, but who are "independent" to the extent that they refuse incorporation in any of these mentioned factions." (Pap 1949, ix-x; my emphasis) It is noteworthy that in all these early characterizations a central role is given, in one way or another, to philosophy's focusing its attention on the language, to clarifying meanings, and in general to a very strong and radical understanding of the task of philosophy. This is how Pap too views the issue, even though he says he is using the expression "analytic philosophy" "broadly". In their preface to the highly influential anthology Readings in Philosophical Analysis, Feigl and Sellars-even if they do not explicitly use the expression "analytic philosophy", they are obviously speaking about the same phenomenon as the above commentators- provide an apt description: "The conception of philosophical analysis underlying our selections springs from two major traditions in recent thought, the Cambridge movement deriving from Moore and Russell, and the Logical Positivism of the Vienna Circle (Wittgenstein, Schlick, Carnap) together with the Scientific Empiricism of the Berlin Group (led by Reichenbach). These ... have increasingly merged to create and approach to philosophical problems which we frankly consider a decisive turn in the history of philosophy." (Feigl and Sellars 1949, vi, my emphasis) Many of the above-mentioned contemporary descriptions emphasize the revolutionary character of analytic philosophy. But what then was so new in analytic philosophy? Sluga has emphasized that, inter alia, analytic philosophy has been a truly international movement; it was not attached to any particular nationality or philosophical tradition. Further, analytic philosophy has had, according to Sluga, a peculiar ahistorical character. He writes: "Its ahistoricism provided analytic history with a strong sense that it constituted a radical new beginning" (Sluga 1998; my emphasis). These words of Sluga are, in my mind, apposite, and cohere well with the above-discussed original use of "analytic philosophy". Central for analytic philosophy was the strong feeling that one was witnessing a definite turning point in the history of philosophy, a wholly new revolutionary way of understanding the task of philosophy and the nature of philosophical problems. This is reflected clearly, for example, in the famous article by Schlick, the leader of the Vienna Circle, "The Turning Point in Philosophy" (1931), and in the later manifesto of the British analytic philosophy edited by Ryle, The Revolution in Philosophy (Ryle 1956). Schlick, for example, wrote: "I am convinced that we now find ourselves at an altogether decisive turning point in philosophy, and that we are Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [20] objectively justified in considering that an end has come to the fruitless conflict of systems" (Schlick 1931). And what else would be in question here but the abovediscussed linguistic turn in philosophy-the radically new idea that the sole task of all legitimate philosophy is the analysis of language, the clarification of meaning, or such. As Searle puts it, in the central period of analytic philosophy, "the philosophy of language was not only 'first philosophy'; all of philosophy became a form of philosophy of language" (Searle 1995). Ryle (1956, 8) writes, in his introduction to the above-mentioned collection, that 'the story of twentieth-century philosophy is very largely the story of the notion of sense or meaning". Strawson, in the discussion that followed his talk in the Royaumont seminar, in turn, submitted that "I should defend the passage [from his talk] ... by saying that the philosopher's principal task is understanding of how our thought about things work, and that we cannot find out about these workings except by looking at how we use words." (Note, by the way, how close this comes to Dummett's later characterization of Analytic Philosophy.) According to Searle, analytic philosophy "is primarily concerned with the analysis of meaning" (Searle 1995). Also von Wright says, in the end, that he sees the core of analytic philosophy in what he calls "philosophical logic"; what he means by that is, however, clarification of the use of language and analysis of concepts, with or without the help of formal logic. According to him, this unites the traditions of the Cambridge school of analysis, the logical positivism of the Vienna Circle, and the post-war ordinary language philosophy (von Wright 1993, 42-3). Analytic Philosophy and its Predecessors It begins to look as if Dummett has been, after all, more or less on the right track in maintaining that it is the focus on language that characterized contentually analytic philosophy-at least if we focus on the original use of the term "analytic philosophy". But how then should one respond to the objections raised against such a definition by Monk, Hacker, Glock, and many others? In my view, the problem is solved, when one distinguishes, on the one hand, the philosophical movement or school of thought proper, and, on the other hand, its essential predecessors and background figures. One just has to be prepared to admit that neither Frege, Russell, nor Moore was yet genuine analytic philosopher-indeed, if we stick to the original meaning of "analytic philosophy", it is clear that they were not. Instead, we can say that-to borrow the expression from Feigl and Sellars-analytic philosophy derives from these great thinkers. This is simply the price to pay, if we want to use the term "analytic philosophy" as a clear and distinct, serviceable, contentually classifying expression of the history of philosophy-the price which, at least I myself am willing to pay. In the same spirit, Thomas Baldwin, a leading Moore-scholar, speaks aptly about the substantial change, which occurred in "the transition from 'philosophical analysis', conceived as an important method of philosophical inquiry which involves logical analysis, to 'analytical philosophy', which restricts genuine philosophy to logical analysis" (Baldwin 2001, 6; cf. Baldwin 1998). Anthony Quinton has dramatized the same idea by stating that analytic philosophy began with the arrival of Wittgenstein in Cambridge (Quinton 1995). Not only Frege, but also Russell and in particular Moore have later been often (especially in the heyday of linguistic philosophy) misinterpreted as linguistic philosophers-as much more orthodox analytic philosophers than they ever were. This may have in part resulted in the still popular view that Frege, Russell and Moore are central analytic philosophers. Though many have now more adequate understanding of their views, their classification as analytic philosophers has rarely been revisited. Although their inJournal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [21] fluence on the emergence of analytic philosophy is absolutely essential, they are, after all, better regarded as precisely the crucial background figures than as pure representatives of analytic philosophy. The idea of a wholly new, historically revolutionary way of understanding the task and nature of philosophy simply does not fit Moore and Russell, whose philosophical approach may perhaps mark a turning point in British philosophy at the time, but hardly the kind of revolution in the history of philosophy intended in the later descriptions. In his criticism of the Hegelian-idealistic holism, Moore called for the return to the method of analysis. The fundamental philosophical goals of both were quite traditional: Russell attempted to justify the possibility of the secure foundations of (scientific) knowledge, Moore the common sense conception of the reality. Analysis (not so much of a language than the analysis of the reality) was for them an important method of philosophy, nothing more. According to Moore (Lectures in 1910-11), the most important task of philosophy is to "give a general description of the whole of the Universe, mentioning all the most important kinds of things which we know to be in it, considering how far it is likely that there are in it important kinds of things which we do not absolutely know to be in it, and also considering the most important ways in which these various kinds of things are related to each other." (Moore 1953, 1; cf. Hacker 1996, 8) So for Moore, philosophy differs from physics primarily in its generality. Another important task of philosophy for Moore is epistemological: to classify the ways in which we can know things. The third important area of philosophy for Moore is ethics. Even in 1942, Moore divided the philosophical discussion into three parts: ethics, theory of perception, and method. Behind the Moorean analysis is his early view of propositions as both objects of thought and possible states of affairs; thus understood, propositions are combinations of entities and properties, and their analysis as objects of thought is in tandem with a metaphysical account of the structure of reality. Later this basis disappeared, but analysis retained its central role in Moore's philosophy. Moore, however, always emphasized that he did not believe that all philosophical problems can be solved by analysis. The new generation of orthodox analytic philosophers, Malcolm in particular, however, interpreted Moore in such a way that the essence of his "technique of refuting philosophical statements consists in pointing out that these statements go against ordinary language" (Malcolm 1942). This is a crude misinterpretation, but it became the received view among analytic philosophers (cf. Hacker 1996, 75). In any case, the popularity of such an interpretation explains why specifically Moore was later taken as a paradigmatic representative of analytic philosophy (cf. above). Similarly, when Neurath, Carnap and Hahn, in the famous manifesto of the Vienna Circle, wrote that "The task of philosophical work lies in this clarification of problems and assertions, and not in the propounding of special 'philosophical' pronouncements. The method of this clarification is that of logical analysis" (Carnap et al. 1929), and then refer to Russell, they are simply misrepresenting Russell's view. For Russell, philosophy is the most general science but not qualitatively different from the sciences. The task of philosophy is to achieve "a theoretical understanding of the world". This is the very view that Wittgenstein then vigorously attacked and for which he presented as an alternative his own radical view of the nature of philosophy-the view that became the essence of analytic philosophy. Russell's ingenious solution to the problem of non-existing entities, his celebrated theory of definite descriptions, surely became a paradigm (as Ramsey called it; see Ramsey 1931, 263) of analytic philosophy. But for Russell, philosophy was always something much more than just linguistic analysis. It is not appropriate to count Russell under the label Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [22] "analytic philosophy" (understood in this way)-just like Monk and Hacker have correctly pointed out, though they draw the opposite conclusion.3 It is even more obvious that (pace Dummett, Sluga and Kenny) Frege is not an analytic philosopher in this sense. He did not have any explicit view about the proper goal of philosophy, and his own project was, first and foremost, epistemological: he wanted to demonstrate, against radical empiricism and naturalism that were very popular in those days, that there really is a priori knowledge. His view of philosophy was by and large that of Kant. (cf. Weiner 1997; Glock 2008, 131). Then again, the later philosophers, who are only in a loose historical influence-connection to the orthodox analytic philosophy, but reject its central theses, and in particular its strong view of philosophy-in other words, for example, the vast majority of contemporary American philosophers such as Quine and Putnam, or, for example, Popper and many of the later philosophers of science, are not genuinely analytic philosophers-as I prefer to use the term. They could perhaps be called, if one wants to emphasize their background, "post-analytical philosophers". From this perspective, the heyday of analytic philosophy was roughly the period from the 1920s to the 1950s. No doubt there still exist analytic philosophers proper, but they are no longer the majority-it is fair to say that analytic philosophy, in the original sense of the word, no longer dominates philosophy in the Anglo-American world, or anywhere. As we saw above, one started using the term "analytic philosophy" much later than is commonly believed. Contentually, the birth of analytic philosophy might be attributed, for example, to Wittgenstein's Tractatus, which appeared in 1921. As a real philosophical movement, however, analytic philosophy seems to arise almost simultaneously in continental Europe and England in the years 1929-1931. The movement did not see itself as opposing phenomenology, or continental philosophy, but all philosophy so far-all traditional philosophy-just as Glock repeatedly points out. But it is important to note that this does not really fit Moore or Russell, and even less Frege. In the early 1930s, Wittgenstein's revolutionary view of philosophy had quickly won over a group of young talented philosophers in the British Isles, who then became key defenders of the orthodox analytic philosophy. In Cambridge, for example Susan Stebbing and John Wisdom declared that the sole task of philosophy the analysis of language. Other central figures included Max Black, Norman Malcolm and Richard Braithwaite. The young activists soon founded a new journal Analysis to spread the good news. In Oxford, the new philosophy grouped around Ryle. In 1931, Ryle announced his "recalcitrant" conversion to the view that the task of philosophy is to examine the sources of systematically misleading linguistic forms; this is what philosophical analysis is. This has been widely viewed as the first public manifesto of the new philosophical movement in Britain. Roughly at the same time, the Vienna Circle began to live its brief glory days. The circle started to publish its own journal Erkenntnis in 1931, in which soon appeared e.g. the above-mentioned article by Schlick on the turning point of philosophy (1931), and Carnap's paper on the elimination of metaphysics (1932). The circle had already formally organized, and published its own manifesto, a couple of years earlier in 1929 (Carnap et al. 1929). Thus was born the new philosophical movement which one then started to call "analytic philosophy". In both its geographically separate branches, Wittgenstein with his radical view on the task of philosophy was clearly an essential influence. Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [23] Conclusions In sum, Glock is convinced that the term "analytic philosophy" has "an established use"-that there is "a common practise"-and invokes the fact that so many philosophers today call themselves "analytic philosophers". He also takes for granted the popular inclusive understanding of who to count as analytic philosophers, and takes a long list of philosophers as "paradigmatic" analytic philosophers. In my mind, on the other hand, the popular sloppy use of the term today is not a fruitful starting point. Glock's book itself (see also above) manages to document brilliantly and in detail just how promiscuous, non-uniform and mutually inconsistent the variety of the uses of the term "analytic philosophy" are now. And when philosophers nowadays call themselves "analytic philosophers", it is terribly unclear what, more exactly, they really mean by that. Further, I have attempted to argue that deciding who they are that really count as paradigmatic analytic philosophers is in fact much less uncontroversial than Glock, for example, suggests; and I have submitted that only the logical positivists and the linguistic philosophers of Oxford and Cambridge are, beyond dispute, such paradigmatic exemplars. Moreover, I have paid a closer attention to the origins of the term, and pointed out that in its original uses, the term "analytic philosophy" had a clear and quite definitive meaning; but at that time, it meant more specifically the kind of philosophy which restricted the proper role of philosophy to the analysis of language, clarification of meaning and such. Obviously, it should be granted that the whole question of the essence of analytic philosophy is to some extend a verbal issue. The use of words is arbitrary and stipulative, and one may simply decide, at some point, to use a word in some other way. But if one wants to use the term "analytic philosophy" in accordance with its original meaning, as a contentual and clear classificatory and descriptive expression, it is wise to use it in a reasonably limited and sufficiently well-defined sense. And even if one disagrees, and wants to continue the more recent loose usage, one must then at least grant that the meaning of "analytic philosophy" has changed radically from the original use of the term. Panu Raatikainen University of Helsinki panu.raatikainen@helsinki.fi Notes Journal for the History of Analytical Philosophy, vol. 2 no. 1 [24] 1 I have defended my own approach for quite a long time, though before this, in print, only in Finnish. I first presented it in my talk for the Finnish Philosophical Society in 2000, published as (Raatikainen 2001); see also (Raatikainen 2007). This paper draws from these earlier writings. 2 A good brief survey of different ways of understanding philosophical analysis, from Frege to Quine, which does not nevertheless commit itself to defining analytic philosophy in terms of philosophical analysis, is (Hylton 1998). 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