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Inquiry and Democracy:
John Dewey on the Experimental Method and its Implications for Political Life
Charles J. Sentell University of Cambridge Department of History and Philosophy of Science and Medicine Introduction A central theme in John Dewey’s philosophy is that the experimental method be more fully integrated into all forms of human inquiry. Taking modern science as the central case of this method, Dewey generalizes its forms into a theory of inquiry, which he intends for use within all areas of human activity. If this spread of the experimental method were to occur, Dewey claims, it would affect an important reconstruction in the way individuals and communities approach particular problematic situations, formulate various proposals for consideration, and decide upon courses of action in solution to those problems. Thus, the significance of Dewey’s theory of inquiry is that he intends it to be a description of the method by which all problems are resolved, not just scientific, but moral, social, and political problems as well. And through this socio-political relevance, the most important consequence of Deweyan inquiry becomes clear, namely, that inquiry is central to the project of generating and sustaining democracy not only at the political level, but in the interstitial spaces of everyday life as well. In this essay I will examine Dewey’s conception of experimental inquiry in terms of its relationship to his democratic theory. In particular, I will engage a recent argument concerning the nature and place of pluralism within Dewey’s conception of democracy and show that this problem emerges only by neglecting a central aspect of his theory of inquiry.
The Experimental Method To adequately understand the connection between Dewey’s account of experimental method and his political philosophy, it is valuable to get a sense of his broader philosophical project. At the beginning of his career, Dewey identified himself with the neo-Hegelian tradition of T.H. Green in Britain and George Morris in the United States (Westbrook 1991: 13). Although he eventually rejected the central tenets of neo-Hegelianism, these early philosophical commitments are important because, as I will show later, some of its underlying features never quite disappear from his thinking. As these commitments waned, however, Dewey began to think that the problems were not just with idealism, but were
symptoms of a larger problem within philosophy itself. In two major works, Reconstruction in Philosophy (1920) and The Quest for Certainty (1929), Dewey presents a new metaphilosophical position, which renders a trenchant critique on the mainstream philosophical tradition. According to Dewey, philosophy is just one type of thinking among many that attempts to find varying degrees of certainty in an uncertain world. In terms of the
philosophical tradition, Dewey traces this “quest for certainty” from the Greeks, who held that if philosophy were truly to aim at certainty, it could not be concerned with the realm of doing or making, but must focus its efforts on the search for the eternally and necessarily true. Dewey traces this bifurcation between knowledge and action, between theory and practice, through the modern philosophies of Locke, Spinoza, Kant, and extrapolates its effects for much of the epistemologically and metaphysically oriented philosophy that follows in their wake. By maintaining this division between theory and practice, Dewey claims, the mainstream philosophical tradition has divorced itself from the very conditions that gave rise to it in the first place, namely, the uncertainties of everyday life. Dewey’s account of the rise and nature of philosophy is thus genealogical, psychological, and evolutionary in character. It is genealogical in that it traces the major suppositions, methods, and aims of philosophy through its history to show that, while philosophy may have once been the direct outgrowth and response to a given culture’s needs and desires, it is now an institutionalized discipline wherein the central questions have become obscure reifications with little bearing to everyday life. It is psychological in that it claims there is a cognitive need for philosophy within individuals and cultures: philosophy constructs systems of thought that give certainty to our actions and meaning to our lives. And it is evolutionary in that the urge to philosophize, to seek adequate answers to the complex range of problematic phenomena, is itself simple and basic to the continuation of life. For Dewey, philosophy grows out of the problems of life, it does not stand over and against an independent reality that is beyond normal reach; it emerges organically from our fumbling about the world, rather than being handed down through transcendent rationality. This view is meant to release philosophy from the quagmire of “timeless” questions and call it back to cultural relevancy by addressing the concerns and problems that face communities in the present. When philosophy accomplishes this, it “ceases to be a device for dealing with
the problems of philosophers and becomes a method, cultivated by philosophers, for dealing with the problems of men [and women].” (MW 10: 46). Philosophy can best achieve this by taking its cue from modern science. For Dewey, the most significant contribution of science to culture was not any specific discovery or invention, but the formulation and refinement of the experimental method. The development of this method is so significant that Dewey advocates the range of its application be extended well beyond the scope of scientific inquiry. By “experimental method,” Dewey does not denote a method in the strict sense; it is not a codified method, applied in a uniform manner, across a range of contexts. It refers, rather, to the general methodological comportment that has been at the heart of modern science since Bacon. This method consists of taking ideas, utilizing them in actual contexts, and evaluating their efficacy based upon consequences. Dewey characterizes it as a “method of knowing that is self-corrective in operation; that learns from failures as from successes” (MW 12: 259). It is a method wherein “discovery and inquiry are synonymous as an occupation. Science is a pursuit, not a coming into possession of the immutable…”(MW 12: 263). In other words, the goal of inquiry is not to find a final solution, but to find a solution that satisfies a particular problematic situation and thereby allows the inquirer to move on to other problems. Dewey notes that “[t]heory in fact – that is, in the conduct of scientific inquiry – has lost ultimacy. Theories have passed into hypotheses” (MW 12: 276). So Dewey holds scientific inquiry to be a hypothetical, ongoing process that orients itself to human needs and interests. In his last major work, Logic: The Theory of Inquiry (1939), Dewey presents his most systematic account of the nature and structure of the experimental method, or simply, inquiry. It is important to note that this is the work he considered most important to his overall philosophy. The basic idea in Logic is that all inquiry arises within the context of a
problematic situation and aims to resolve that situation by transforming it into an unproblematic one. Dewey defines inquiry as “the controlled or directed transformation of an indeterminate situation into one that is so determinate in its constituent distinctions and relations as to convert the elements of the original situation into a unified whole.” (LW 12: 109) Within this framework, all inquiry has an existential basis; all genuine problems have their source in actual problematic experiences. Dewey identifies two “existential matrices of inquiry” – the biological and the cultural – that form the necessary background conditions from which all inquiry arises. Inquiry, then, is not a free-floating process that rational beings
engage in when and whence they choose, but is a direct consequence of an organism’s general interaction with its environment. Dewey presents his theory of inquiry in terms of a reconstruction of Aristotelian logic. In the same manner that he critiqued the mainstream philosophical tradition, Dewey claims that Aristotelian logic has outlived its concomitant worldview and must be revised in terms of the modern scientific understanding of the world. Again, a central element of Dewey’s thought is that all forms of thinking are ideational constructs that arise within a given culture so as to deal with a particular set of problems and concerns. Logic is no exception to this, and Aristotle’s logic should be understood in a historical context that enabled a particular culture to deal with problematic situations in a manner congruent to their overall view of the nature of reality. It is not the case, Dewey claims, that Aristotle’s logic embodies the necessary and fixed logical forms of reality that timelessly obtain; rather, Aristotelian logic was “relevant, and grounded in, the subject-matter of natural science as that subject-matter, the structure of nature, was then understood.” (LW 12: 416). The problem with the current conception of logic and inquiry is that it retains an old logical structure in the face of a new understanding of the world. Dewey points out that modern science has dramatically changed our view of the nature of the world: no longer is the world considered to consist of fixed essences moving toward their predetermined end. Rather, the world is now generally conceived to be in flux, in movement not toward some pre-given end, but developing from where it currently is. The consequences of this viewpoint call for a complete reconstruction of logical concepts, and throughout Logic Dewey expands upon the specific ways in which logical theory is changed by it. But for present purposes, it suffices to note that within Deweyan inquiry, logic is simply another conceptual apparatus deployed for the purpose of dealing with problematic situations; it is not an exemplification of the forms of Reality apprehended through Reason. To consider logic otherwise constitutes what Dewey called “the hypostatization of an instrument,” and is a common feature of the types of inquiry he was arguing against (LW 12: 155). Since the forms of inquiry originate directly from existentially based problematic situations, the material (i.e. the contents) of inquiry gain added significance. Dewey claims that the logical structure of inquiry is based upon, and transformed by, the existential material being inquired about. He says that “formal [logical] conceptions arise out of the ordinary transactions; they are not imposed upon them from on high or from any external and a priori
source. But when they are formed they are also formative; they regulate the proper conduct of the activities out of which they develop.” (LW 12: 106) Dewey illustrates this by using the example of our common sense notions of legality and how, once these notions are put through legislative processes and formally codified, they become the structures by which further notions of legality (typically) develop. In this way, logical forms are taken to be both the products of inquiry, as well as its constitutive forms. They are products, which, when taken and re-integrated within inquiry, become part of the very structure of future inquiry. Inquiry is thus formative and trans-formative: it is formative in that, through its very processes, it determines a scheme for ordering further discourse, and trans-formative in that it reconditions experience such that the problematic situation is transformed through its solution, i.e. it is no longer problematic. Given these characteristics, the contours of Deweyan inquiry can be summarized as follows: 1) Inquiry is an ongoing, hypothetical process, which is guided by the experimental attitude to the extent that it takes various hypotheses and judges their validity according to applied consequences. While the short-term goal of inquiry is the resolution of immediate problematic situations, the nature of inquiry necessitates that inquiry itself remain dynamic and ongoing in the search for new ways of understanding and explanation. 2) The problematic contents of inquiry originate from our immediate interactions with the surrounding environment, as well as from the cultural milieu into which we are thrown. The objects and substances that form the content of inquiry are themselves hypothetical in nature and modified according to the degree to which they fit into, and function within, a problematic situation, or system of such situations. They are not based upon essences or intrinsic natures, but are the operational correlatives of the structural forms of inquiry. 3) The structure of inquiry is formed in conjunction with the contents of inquiry, thus placing structural and material elements in a reciprocal relationship that shapes the way inquiry is conducted in the future. This makes logical forms functional and instrumental, rather than structural and a priori. When all these features are taken together and utilized within an actual nexus of inquiry, they comprise what Dewey referred to simply as “active intelligence.”
Democracy With these characteristics in mind, it is appropriate to understand Dewey’s philosophy of science as a type of naturalism wherein rational inquiry emerges organically from our experiences of problematic situations. As I mentioned earlier, one of Dewey’s early
philosophical influences was Hegel and the neo-Hegelianism of the late nineteenth-century. I also indicated that some aspects of this influence carry over into his mature pragmatic philosophy. I think a clear example of this influence is found in Dewey’s conception of inquiry. This conception, I propose, can be thought of as a type of secularized Hegelianism, with a dose of Darwinism added as the catalyst for change. Dewey gives up the Geist in exchange for a conception of inquiry that is an autonomous, self-perpetuating system wherein progress is defined in evolutionary terms. In place of the Hegelian eschatology, Dewey establishes the dialectic of hypothetical inquiry as the process out of which all knowledge develops. Nothing is outside inquiry; the methods and contents of inquiry are produced internally through a type of hermeneutic circle wherein the content becomes the justification for the method, and the method becomes the justification for the content. Progress within inquiry, then, is not teleological; it is an evolutionary, problemoriented development that depends upon the ability to adapt current ways of thinking to new problematic situations. This account makes Dewey’s notion of progress strikingly similar to Thomas Kuhn’s idea of progress, which holds that progress is properly understood as progress-from, rather than progress-to some given end (1996: 162). It also grounds Dewey’s conception of inquiry within a particular tradition. While there may be an end-in-view directing inquiry to solve a specific set of problems, future inquiries are always dependent upon what is secured through prior inquiry. The contents and methods of previous inquiries, in other words, are the necessary materials out of which new ideas are made. For Dewey there is no dualism of scheme and content; indeed, there is no dualism at all. The bifurcations between knowledge and action, theory and practice, and appearance and reality all collapse within the Deweyan conception of inquiry. And because Dewey grounds all inquiry within actual existential situations, it is correct to say that the unity of method is grounded in the unity of nature. Nature itself develops through experimentation, and by consciously employing this method in the service of more humane problems and inquiries we are to some extent able to control our own evolution.
I belabour these points precisely because the nature and structure of experimental inquiry is the model upon which Dewey bases his conception of democracy. Deweyan inquiry, in other words, is the larger concept, and Deweyan democracy is situated under its aegis. And while inquiry and democracy are analogous in a number of ways, it is crucial to get clearer on just how they are analogous so that a proper understanding of each is reached. One thing that is clear it that Dewey’s entire project rejects views which take as their starting point antecedently given conditions or essential natures. Against essentializing any object of inquiry, Dewey eschews the antecedently given and the predetermined end of inquiry in scientific as well as political inquiry. He says that “it is not the business of political philosophy and science to determine what the state in general should or must be. What they may do is to aid in creation of methods such that experimentation may go on less blindly, less at the mercy of accident, more intelligently, so that men [and women] may learn from their errors and profit by their successes.” (LW 2: 257) Dewey’s proposal for
implementing the experimental attitude within the socio-political sphere can thus be thought of as a type of “political experimentalism.” This political experimentalism is structurally analogous to inquiry in that it is an ongoing process whose main aim is not final completion, but continual development. In The Public and its Problems (1926), Dewey claims that, “regarded as an idea, democracy is not an alternative to other principles of associated life. It is the idea of community life itself. It is an ideal in the only intelligible sense of an ideal: namely, the tendency and movement of some thing which exists carried to its final limit, viewed as completed, perfected. Since things do not attain such fulfilment but are in actuality distracted and interfered with, democracy in this sense is not a fact and never will be.” (LW 2: 328) The idea of democracy, then, is a regulative ideal: it is not something that will ever be fully consummated in practice, but a goal toward which we are continually striving. But democracy, for Dewey, entails more than simply a democratic form of government. It is above all a “way of life,” which is essentially the idea that democracy is a substantive social ideal rather than just a procedural, and thus merely political, form of government. He says, “the trouble…is that we have taken democracy for granted; we have thought and acted as if our forefathers had founded it once and for all. We have forgotten that it has to be enacted anew every generation, in every year and day, in the living relations of person to person in all social forms and institutions” (LW 11: 416). In this way,
democracy is a way of shared social inquiry toward the resolution of common social problems that requires a reflective and engaged citizenry so as to be effective. To get a better idea of just how far this expands typical conceptions of democracy, I think it is helpful to compare the notions of procedural and substantive democracy to the methods and content of inquiry. A procedural conception of democracy places the onus of democratic work on formal governmental structures, which are constructed to mitigate disputes and manage social differences. These governmental institutions – precisely the features so often identified with being the essence of democracy – are for Dewey only means. He says, “[u]niversal suffrage, recurring elections, responsibility of those who are in political power to the voters, and the other factors of democratic government are means that have been found expedient for realizing democracy as the truly human way of living. They are not a final end and a final value. They are to be judged on the basis of their contribution to end” (LW 11: 218). In this way, the procedural aspects of democracy are analogous to the methods of inquiry: they are the evolving means through which democratic ends are realized. The substantive aspects of democracy, on the other hand, are analogous to the contents of inquiry; they are the problematic social situations that call for amelioration through “cooperative inquiry” (Campbell 1993: 17). Just as within the structure of inquiry, where the methods and contents develop and are justified in reciprocal relation, so too do the procedural and substantive aspects of democracy develop in a mutually dependent way. Thus, it is clear that Dewey is not opposed to a formal conception of democracy, but just that his substantive view of democracy includes and goes beyond it. As already shown, the correlative dependence of method and content within inquiry shapes the way inquiry is conducted in the future. In this way, the process of inquiry produces its own regulative norms, which, in turn, define the proper ends of inquiry. Analogously, the conjunctive development of the procedural and substantive aspects of democracy establishes the ideal ends of democracy. Thus, both Deweyan inquiry and
democracy are normative in nature: they establish internally, through their very processes, the regulative norms that direct future activity toward a given end. The regulative norms of inquiry establish both the primary aim of inquiry (i.e. the resolution of problematic situations) and the proper means by which that end can be achieved, namely through a hypothetical, experimental approach to inquiry itself. As democracy is a form of shared
social inquiry, the regulative norms of inquiry establish the ideal end of democracy, which Dewey identifies as “the necessity of participation of every mature human being in formation of the values that regulate the living of men [and women] together,” as well as the proper means by which that end is realized (LW 11: 217). So just as Dewey collapses the dualism of scheme and content within inquiry, he also collapses the dualism between the procedural means and substantive ends of democracy. Both are correlative aspects of an ongoing process whereby the regulative norms of inquiry (which are themselves in process) guide the identification of effective means to achieve the given end.
Pluralism With these similarities in mind, I would now like to turn and highlight a significant problem, which manifests itself in various ways through the problem of pluralism (Talisse, 2003; Cf. Capps, 2002; Stuhr, 1993, 2002; West, 1998). The formulation of this problem is interesting precisely because it applies equally to Deweyan inquiry and Deweyan democracy. Let me expand upon this a bit. Within the frameworks of Deweyan inquiry and democracy, one is compelled to ask two questions: First, for who exactly is a problematic situation actually a problem? And, second, what constitutes an adequate solution to such a problem? In The Public and its Problems Dewey identifies the “public” in a distinct, abstract sense, namely, as a group of individuals that are directly or indirectly affected by a certain transaction such that they are joined by the need to have that effect systematically attended to (LW 2: 245-6). For example, individuals living adjacent to a toxic waste disposal plant form “a public” to the extent that leakage from the plant is seeping into their ground water, causing various birth defects among the unborn, etc. These people are joined by the need to have these effects attended to by local officials and the administrators of the plant. So the key feature of Dewey’s formulation is that a public is defined by a given set of effects. Dewey recognizes, however, that this broad definition merely resituates the problem: “It is not that there is no public, no large body of persons having a common interest in the consequences of social transactions. There is too much public, a public too diffused and scattered and too intricate in composition…with little to hold these different publics together in an integrated whole” (LW 2: 320). This diversity of publics leads to the second, more important, question: if there are too many publics, how are they supposed to coordinate
activities and interests in ways that allow for effective resolution? If interests and
consequences are so diverse, how can any solution satisfy the myriad interests of different, and indeed disparate, publics? Dewey recognizes that this problem is dialogical when he says, “the essential need…is the improvement of the methods and conditions of debate, discussion and persuasion. That is the problem of the public.” (LW 2: 365) This is the basic problem of pluralism: how are various groups, with various and oftentimes mutually exclusive interests, supposed to coordinate so as to resolve fundamental differences? In this regard, Robert Talisse makes the striking argument that Deweyan democracy is not open to pluralism. The type of pluralism he has in mind “implies that there is no substantive and basic value that could win the consensus of an entire population of rational persons” (2003: 4). This type of pluralism commits us to accepting that various groups can (and often do) formulate different, mutually exclusive solutions to the basic problems affecting human life. Given the problem of pluralism, then, democracy is limited to its procedural aspects, which are to ensure that various incommensurable viewpoints peacefully coexist. If Deweyan democrats are to retain the substantive aspect of democracy, Talisse argues, they are forced to reject pluralism precisely on the grounds that it is out of step with the notion of democracy as cooperative social inquiry. And this is where the problem of pluralism connects to Dewey’s conception of inquiry. Throughout the Logic, Dewey refers to the methods of inquiry he describes as the methods of inquiry, not simply as a valid method of inquiry among others. Take, for example, Dewey’s claim that “[w]e know that some methods of inquiry are better than others in just the same way we know that some methods of surgery, farming, road-making, navigating, or what-not are better than others” (LW 12: 108). Or his claim that “[i]f inferences made and conclusions reached are to be valid, the subject-matter dealt with and the operations employed must be such as to yield identical results for all who infer and reason. If the same evidence leads different persons to different conclusions, then either the evidence is only speciously the same, or one conclusion (or both) is wrong” (LW 12: 50). These passages show Dewey’s insistence that there are better and worse methods of inquiry, and that there are perfectly good reasons to reject certain types of inquiry. It is important to remember, though, that the methods of inquiry are themselves undergoing constant development, and thus the standards by which inquiry is judged “proper” are also involved in this ongoing process. The point to notice regarding the problem of pluralism, however, is
that Deweyan inquiry presupposes that a genuine agreement as to the best solution of any given problem – social or otherwise – is at least possible. Again, nothing is outside of inquiry; the methods of experimental inquiry, Dewey held, are the tools by which all problems could be resolved in the long run. So pluralism is incompatible with Deweyan democracy precisely because, at a certain point, it gives up on Deweyan inquiry. The upshot of Talisse’s argument is that Deweyan democrats must 1) affirm “the normative priority of the values embedded within Deweyan inquiry” and 2) exclude those who reject such norms from political discourse (2003: 12-13). While the first aspect of this conclusion seems entirely correct, the latter aspect seems wrongheaded in that it only pushes the problem back a level. How is one to persuade those who do not value the regulative norms of Deweyan democracy that they should value them before they are ever engaged in discourse? If you exclude from political discourse those who do not value the norms of Deweyan democracy, it seems that there is no recourse to be had. And in a time when this seems to be the problematic situation within culture (i.e. when political dialogue is deadlocked, both domestically and internationally, by numerous forms of fundamentalism) this is neither a viable nor an acceptable solution. So while Talisse is correct to point out that pluralism is inconsistent within Deweyan inquiry and democracy, he misses the larger reason why this is so, namely, in the way in which pluralism casts the nature of beliefs. Sidney Hook once remarked regarding Dewey’s philosophy that it is not what you believe that matters, but how you believe it (1939: 236). This is essentially the problem with pluralism: it characterizes beliefs such that they are things to hold onto rigidly and literally, that different beliefs are things that can be ultimately incommensurable. This is precisely what Dewey was disputing within Logic. By conceiving of inquiry as an internally constitutive process wherein both the form and content change in relation to the ongoing process of engaging actual problematic situations, Dewey makes believing itself a hypothetical activity. The regulative norms of Deweyan inquiry, in other words, define a comportment to how we hold beliefs. In the end, Dewey’s conception of experimental inquiry does not simply lie on the surface; it goes all the way down, so to speak, and commits those who accept it to not only a set of regulative norms, but also to a radically new conception of belief. In my view, this constitutes the most important, if not also the most difficult, idea in Dewey’s entire philosophy. The nature and possibility of living hypothetically, living with a
recurring question mark beside your beliefs, is clearly a difficult stance to maintain. Even within scientific inquiry, which is the system upon which Dewey bases his theory of inquiry, we are apt to wonder whether scientists actually hold their methods and objects hypothetically. In the abstract it seems acceptable to say they do, but when talking with practicing scientists one gets the distinct impression that they believe in their objects and theories just as literally as anyone. It also seems clear that most people do not come to hold their beliefs about personal, social, and political matters in a hypothetical way either. Tradition and authority still seem to trump experimentalism and openness. The present ways of believing, put bluntly, are far from where Deweyan inquiry and democracy seem actual, or even possible. Talisse suggests that Deweyans begin to construct arguments against pluralism (2003: 12). And while his point is taken, I think Deweyans would do much better to address the deeper problem regarding how people hold their beliefs in the first place. Simply put, pluralism does not seem to be the problem. If anything, pluralism seems to be a step in the right direction for those who hold their beliefs fundamentally and are eager to impose those beliefs upon everyone else. So rather than engaging pluralists, Deweyans ought to cut out the theoretical middleman and initiate a public dialogue concerning the consequences that come from how beliefs are held. The issue, Dewey says, “is a matter of choice, and choice is always a matter of alternatives. What the method of intelligence, thoughtful valuation will accomplish, if once it be tried, is for the result of trial to determine” (LW 1: 437). This hypothetical comportment to beliefs, like all ideas, must be tried in actual situations, with concrete agents and concrete problems, and judged according to its consequences for practical life. But before this trial can begin, a significant reconstruction in how beliefs are held remains the predominant challenge for Deweyans today.
Bibliography A note on the references to Dewey’s work. Since publication of the complete scholarly editions of John Dewey’s works (37 volumes altogether), references have been standardized in the following form: (LW 3:75). The “LW” refers to The Later Works, with corresponding references made to The Middle Works (MW), and The Early Works (EW). The first number in the sequence refers to the volume within that series, while the second number is the actual page reference. Campbell, James. 1993. “Democracy as Cooperative Inquiry,” in John Stuhr (ed.), Philosophy and the Reconstruction of Culture, Albany: SUNY Press. Capps, John. 2002. “Achieving Pluralism (Why AIDS Activists are Different from Creationists),” in Burke, Hester, and Talisse (eds.), Dewey’s Logical Theory: New Studies and Interpretations, Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press. Dewey, John. 1976-1983. 1976-1983. “The Need for a Recovery in Philosophy,” in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1925, Volume 10. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 15 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1976-1983. “Philosophy and Democracy,” in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1925, Volume 11. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 15 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1976-1983. Reconstruction in Philosophy, in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1925, Volume 12. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 15 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. Experience and Nature, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, Volume 1. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. The Public and its Problems, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 19251953, Volume 2. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. The Quest for Certainty, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, Volume 4. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press.
----------. 1981-1990. Liberalism and Social Action, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 19251953, Volume 11. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. “Authority and Social Change,” in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, Volume 11. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. “Democracy is Radical,” in John Dewey: The Later Works, 19251953, Volume 11. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. Logic: The Theory of Inquiry, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 19251953, Volume 12. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. Freedom and Culture, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, Volume 13. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. ----------. 1981-1990. “Creative Democracy – The task before us,” in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, Volume 14. Jo Ann Boydston (ed.). 17 vols. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. Hook, Sidney. 1939. John Dewey: An Intellectual Portrait. New York: Prometheus Books. Kuhn, Thomas. 1996. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Stuhr, John. 1993. “Democracy as a Way of Life,” in John Stuhr (ed.), Philosophy and the Reconstruction of Culture, Albany: SUNY Press. ----------. 2002. “Power/Inquiry,” in Burke, Hester, and Talisse (eds.), Dewey’s Logical Theory: New Studies and Interpretations, Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press. Talisse, Robert. 2003. “Can Democracy be a Way of Life? Deweyan Democracy and the Problem of Pluralism,” Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Society, v. 39, no. 1, pp. 1-21. West, Cornel. 1989. The American Evasion of Philosophy: A Genealogy of Pragmatism. London: Macmillian Press. Westbrook, Robert B. University Press. 1991. John Dewey and American Democracy, Ithaca: Cornell
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