William James in Focus: Willing to Believe

Epilogue

Epilogue Questions remain. Did James really come to realize that a complete description of reality or pure experience was not to be had?1 That the “problem of being” could not be solved, so to speak? That one has to go on, knowing that there would be no final answer? That closure not only did not come today but indeed would never come and, hypothetically, even if it did come, we would reject it? It would seem that pure experience cannot be defined, though it can be experienced momentarily. One must keep trying for this experience—this is what “makes a life significant,” what gives life meaning. “Meaning” means “makes life worthwhile”—not just or exclusively “what makes life understandable” or “comprehensible ” or “logical.” Does he realize that life cannot be described or put into words by trying to define it and failing to do so—at least not completely? Did James know, in some prenascent sense, at the very beginning, that is, around the time of “The Sentiment of Rationality,” that no complete description could be attained and, if offered, would be rejected? Or did he at least hope that we would do so? “As long as one continues talking, intellectualism remains in undisturbed possession of the field.”2 Indeed, this is just what he did. But there is a latent and a manifest dimension to James’s talk. He talks not just to describe pure experience but also to show, to disclose , indirectly, that it cannot be done. In a sense, his writings disclose two levels: first, a detailed portrayal of how things actually are and, second, a disclosure of why and how any complete description is both impossible and unacceptable. 90 William James in Focus Did James both yearn for and also feel repulsed by a complete account? A complete account would “tame” the universe. And yet no account at all would leave the universe without meaning, a “booming buzzing confusion.” James, on the face of it, seemed more worried that the universe would become too tame, too comprehensible, too domesticated. He feared that the “hawk” would turn into a “pigeon.” So he worked to prevent this from occurring, stressing the unknowable, the wild, the hawk-like, etc. But he also did not want to render the universe unacceptable or unapproachable. In addition, he worried that what he was asking or proposing would require too much of us. Or at least he came to do so, shifting from describing pragmatism as merely a new word for some old ways of thinking to the realization that many people may be either unwilling or unable to reject the certainty that a more foundationalist approach offered. James remains a flawed figure—happy on the outside, afraid on the inside. He presents a manifest and a latent image to the reader. When we try to “focus” on his thought, there is a “solidity” to it, a consistent pattern describing the concrete, the contextual , the passing, the transient, etc. But there is also a latent James, one that realizes that a complete description is neither possible nor desirable—although seemingly it remains a perennial temptation. To focus on William James, then, is a formidable task, for he discloses himself as a complicated figure. On the surface, he is the champion of heroism, the harbinger of uncertainty, of risk, of the strenuous life. But there is more to James than the espousal of the uncertain. There is also the tacit realization that certainty is, or can be, very tempting—that asking us to embrace uncertainty may indeed be asking too much from too many of us and too often over time. Besides these two levels of James—the attack on certainty, the affirmation of risk, and, second, the temptation to accept certainty—there is, perhaps, a third level. This third level entails the realization on James’s part that certainty is not coming and will not do so, ever. This is, in Paul Tillich’s terms, “the courage to be.”3 It is a realization that can definitely crush the knower. “Can you live with what you know?” Progress can be made but always with the realization that there will remain more to be done—even if this realization is sometimes repressed and remains “latent.” James realized at times that “pure experience,” his term for “the really real,” could not be captured in concepts or language. But he did want it to be “experienced ,” so to speak. So he set about using language...