[Both the Roman and Littlefield and the Oxford paperback editions of this book are now out of print. The book is available for reprinting. The selection below is slightly revised.]
Lukács, Marx
and the
Sources of
Critical Theory
ANDREW FEENBERG
ROWMAN AND LITTLEFlELD
Totowa, New Jersey
1981
Contents
Preface
1 The Philosophy of Praxis
2 The Meta-Theory of Philosophy: Marx's Formulation
3 Reification and the Paradigms of Rationality
4 The Meta-Theory of Philosophy: Lukacs' Formulation
5 Culture and Consciousness
6 Cultural Marxism
7 History and Nature
8 Reconciliation with Nature
Notes
Index
Preface
In recent years two books have come to be recognized as the most challenging contributions of Marxism to philosophy. They are Marx's Economic and Philosophica1 Manuscripts, and Georg Lukács' History and Class Consciousness. These books played a major role in the breakdown of the Stalinist interpretation of Marxism and the consequent revival of interest in Marxist thought among literary scholars, philosophers and sociologists. Yet despite the growing concern with the early works of Marx and Lukács, no one has attempted a comparative evaluation of these two most important texts of "unorthodox" Marxism. The main purpose of this book is to offer such an evaluation.
It is one of the great ironies of intellectual history that Marx and Lukács themselves failed to appreciate the significance of their own early works. Marx's Manuscripts were written in 1844 but had to wait nearly 100 years to see the light of day. Since its publication this unfinished early work has come to rival Capital as the text of reference for Marxists in the West. During the first half century after the publication of History and Class Consciousness, Lukács' book became an underground classic, rejected by its author and known only to a few European scholars. The seminal importance of this early work has only been widely recognized in the last decade.
The long eclipse of these books, left to what Engels once called "the nibbling of the mice," can be explained by their transitional position in the intellectual biographies of their authors. Both were trained as philosophers and steeped in a romantic revolutionism they eventually rejected in favor of "scientific socialism." Marx's Manuscripts and Lukács' History and Class Consciousness were written at similar turning points in their authors' spiritual trajectories, at times when they felt the need to move beyond these intellectual origins and believed they could do so without violent rupture through acts of dialectical transcendence. Later, they judged this transcendence inadequate, still internal to positions they uncompromisingly rejected in elaborating their mature outlook. There is little doubt that after the break their judgment on their early work was too harsh, that it contains more of value and had more influence on the later work than the authors were willing to concede.
The romantic influence is undoubtedly present in these early writings. By romanticism is usually meant that trend in modern culture which exalts subjectivity against objectivity, life against rationality, concreteness against abstraction. Certainly the antagonism of Marx and Lukács toward the oppressive formalism of capitalist social life, analyzed and condemned in parallel critiques of "alienation" and "reification," is to some degree tributary of that trend. And yet it would grossly distort the theories of alienation and reification to reduce them to a romantic protest against reason as is frequently suggested by contemporary critics.
It is true that Marx and Lukács were influenced by the romantic critique of capitalism, but they were still more profoundly influenced by the Hegelian critique of that critique. For Hegel, as for a number of other major figures in modern thought, romanticism has the value of a transcended moment, playing a propadeutic role in the development of a rational outlook on the world that is not merely philistine and complacent but critical and rich in inwardness. It was Hegel who first systematically elaborated this characteristic modern response to the romantic revolt, the "post-romantic" reconciliation with rational necessity and human finitude that is defining for the ''mature'' personality of modern men and women.
The difficult and ambiguous program of the early Marx and Lukács involved preserving the moment of revolt in romanticism without recapitulating the subjectivistic errors so effectively criticized by Hegel. I will show that they are only partially successful in this task, but also that the task itself was well chosen and indeed still an obligatory one for a critical theory which rejects the facile pretensions to science of the so-called Marxist orthodoxy. Marx and Lukács approached this task with a similar method, which I will call "cultural" because of its orientation toward the most general patterns of meaning and purpose of entire societies. Just such a pattern is signified by the concepts of alienation and reification which they employ to analyze capitalist society. At the same time, these concepts are derived from reflection on the philosophical tradition and function in the context of the authors' discussion of philosophical problems. This unity of cultural and philosophical concerns is the distinctive trait of their early method.
For Marx and Lukács, philosophy is the discipline in which the operative horizon of everyday life is raised to consciousness and subjected to rational criticism. On this basis they argue that the conceptual dilemmas or "antinomies" of philosophy are symptomatic of deep cultural contradictions of the philosopher's society. Their most challenging conclusion is the idea of a "transcendence" of philosophy as such through the practical resolution of these contradictions in social life. This is perhaps the least well understood aspect of the early "philosophy of praxis" of Marx and Lukács, and the study of it will be the major theme uniting the various investigations which make up this book.
My method of approach in this study is that of a philosopher in the Continental tradition, specifically, the tradition founded on the early writings of Marx and Lukács. Because I believe the paradigms and problems of that tradition are still very much alive, this book is opened onto the future as well as the past, and is in fact less a work of intellectual history than an attempt at showing the continuing value of Marxism for social theory. To accomplish this purpose, I have selected among the themes and texts of my authors with an eye to contemporary concerns. As a result, much that is of primarily historical interest has been left by the wayside, however what remains is the larger and certainly the most interesting part of the whole.
I have devoted more space to the discussion of Lukács than to Marx, as the less well known of the two. Although Lukács was unaware of the existence of Marx's Manuscripts when he wrote History and Class Consciousness, his interpretation of Capital suggests a theory of the continuity of Marx's intellectual development which I elaborate in a specifically Lukácsian interpretation of the early Marx.
Lukács himself I approach from the standpoint of the two major schools of Marxist thought on which his early work had a profound influence. The Frankfurt School of Adorno, Horkheimer and Marcuse seized on Lukács' concept of reification which, in combination with other sources, became the basis of its critique of positivism and its dialectical reformulation of Marxist theory. This influence is frequently acknowledged, but it has yet to be traced out in detail. While I do not accomplish that historiographic task here, one aim of this book is to expose some of the important links between Lukács and the Frankfurt School.
Somewhat later, in the period after World War II, French Marxism came under the influence of the early Lukács as a whole generation of social theorists sought radical alternatives to the dominant Stalinist orthodoxy. The most famous text of this trend is Maurice Merleau-Ponty's Adventures of the Dialectic which first introduced the term "Western Marxism" to describe the tradition stemming from History and Class Consciousness. The French were primarily interested in Lukács' theory of class consciousness which, along with reification, is the other major theme of the book. They saw in this theory an alternative to the official Marxist dogma of the party as surrogate subject of the revolution. With Lukács they reaffirmed the primacy of working class "praxis," articulated ideologically by the party but not replaced by it.
I had the good fortune to study with representatives of both these schools of thought, with Herbert Marcuse and Lucien Goldmann. Starting out from the disparate traditions and emphases they represent, I propose a new interpretation designed to reestablish the unity of Lukács' early Marxism. This background may help to explain the difference between my approach to Lukács and that of English and American scholars such as Gareth Stedman Jones and George Lichtheim, who condemn the theory of reification as irrationalist and find Stalinist implications in the theory of class consciousness. I believe it is time to reconsider these very negative evaluations which square neither with the content nor the intellectual impact of Lukács' text.
When Lukács is compared, not with Bergson or Stalin, but with Marx's early philosophical works, a very different picture emerges. Like the early Marx, the early Marxist Lukács is a critic of what Kolakowski has called the "alienation of reason" in modern capitalist society. But that critique is by no means irrationalist; rather, its aim is the establishment of a dialectical paradigm of rationality suited to the task of social self-understanding and human liberation. Such a dialectical paradigm of rationality can be of no service to authoritarian regimes, but only to a socialist culture of self-rule. Not the least important dimension of the early Marx and Lukács is the contribution they make to defining the broad outlines of such a culture.
* * *
The writing of this book has placed me in the debt of many people. Lucien Goldmann and Herbert Marcuse introduced me to Marxist philosophy and to the work of Lukács. My wife, Anne-Marie Feenberg, and Jerry Doppelt read chapter after chapter and frequently convinced me to make changes for the better. Many others read portions of the manuscript and offered criticism and encouragement. I recall with pleasure long and often fruitful exchanges with Al Gouldner, Stanley Aronowitz, Doug Kellner, Bill Leiss, Stanley Rosen, and Mark Poster. I have also learned a great deal from others writing on Lukács, especially Istvan Meszaros, Paul Breines, Andrew Arato, and Michael Lowy. Authors ask for a great deal of moral support and patience from those with whom they are in daily contact. For exemplary performance in this regard, I want to thank my colleagues in the philosophy department of San Diego State University and, once again, my wife.
The Philosophy of Praxis
MARX AND LUKÁCS
In this chapter and the next, I will discuss the philosophy of the early Marx from a Lukácsian perspective, as a background to the exposition of Lukács' own parallel attempt to resolve the problems first posed by Marx. There are, of course, considerable differences between these authors, and there is always the risk that in comparing them in this manner the identity of the one will be submerged in that of the other. I will naturally do my best to avoid an artificial identification of the two positions where they do actually differ; however, I will argue that in spite of real differences we are dealing here with a specific philosophical doctrine, which might be called "philosophy of praxis," and which is shared by a number of thinkers.1 The identification of such doctrines, which ultimately are defined in ideal-types such as "empiricism" or "idealism," is an important, even if necessarily inconclusive contribution of philosophy to the history of ideas.
The method of Marx and Lukács in their early philosophical works is very different from the "scientific socialism" erected later on the basis of historical observation and economic theory. In 1843 and 1844 Marx developed a philosophy of revolution which at the time he seems to have intended as a foundation for empirical studies of economics such as those he presented in his later works. From 1919 to 1923 Lukács, similarly, elaborated a Marxist philosophical theory that is independent of Marxist economics in significant dimensions. For both the early Marx and Lukács, such central Marxist concepts as the proletariat and socialism were not first developed through empirical research. Instead, as philosophers they set out from a critical discussion of the philosophical tradition, in the course of which they deduced the characteristic historical concepts of Marxism. Included in this deduction is the concept of revolution, which plays a pivotal methodological role in the philosophies of Marx and Lukács.
In interpreting Marx's Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts as a philosophy of praxis, I have been obliged to choose positions in some of the numerous debates over this early work. It will be useful at the outset to make these positions explicit by situating this interpretation with respect to some others. I will not review the enormous literature on the Manuscripts; only two facets of it are relevant here, the debates over the ontological and the normative character of social categories in the Manuscripts.2 At issue is more than a matter of textual exegesis. The larger question that depends on the interpretation given the text concerns whether the Manuscripts are a philosophy of praxis, as I am engaged in defining that term, or, on the contrary, a far less ambitious methodological preliminary or ethical complement to economic research within the framework of the traditional concept of reason.
I have done my best to show the former, that Marx founds a new concept of reason in revolution through an ontological treatment of social categories. This approach brings to the fore all that links the project of the early Marx to that of Lukács in a later period. In 1923 Lukács was of course unaware of the existence of Marx's Manuscripts, which had not yet been published when he wrote History and Class Consciousness. The similarities I will identify are all the more significant as indicating the inner connection of the philosophy of praxis with Marxism.
This matter of the similarity between the early Marxist work of Marx and Lukács requires further comment, because of the unwitting tendency of some commentators to treat History and Class Consciousness as though, like the Manuscripts, it had been written before Marx's Capital. Thus Lukács is sometimes blamed for assuming without proof theses which he and contemporary Marxist readers regarded as adequately established by Capital; sometimes Lukács is also blamed for having substituted philosophy for economics, regressing behind the level of scientificity achieved by Marxism, as though no philosophical problems might arise from or be resolved on the basis of the mature thought of Marx.
In fact, Capital is the basis of Lukács' philosophy of praxis and not the early work of Marx, much of which was still unpublished when Lukács began to write as a Marxist. Now, Capital is a quite self-consciously unphilosophical work, in spite of Marx's prefatory acknowledgment of Hegel's influence. In it Marx is careful to minimize the use of philosophical terminology and to avoid the exploration of properly philosophical problems. Yet we now know on the basis of extensive textual evidence, as the early Lukács could not, just how complex were the philosophical considerations behind Capital. The link between the Manuscripts and the published writings of Marx's maturity is supplied by his own draft of Capital; but the publication of this text, the so-called Grundrisse, was delayed until the Second World War.3 These textual absences, combined with the image Marx wished to project of his work in Capital, seemed to authorize a scientistic interpretation of Marx's later doctrine which Lukács first challenged from a dialectical perspective.
Lukács made the connection between Marxism and philosophy (that is to say, between Marx and Hegel), primarily through a reflection on Marx's methodology in his economic writings, and only secondarily on the basis of those of Marx's comments on philosophical matters with which he was acquainted. This is possible because, as Ernest Mandel remarks, "the concept of alienation . . . is part of the mature Marx's instrumentarium."4 Lukács was in fact the first to show this, to notice and explain not merely the influence of Hegel on Marx's early political essays, or on the general Marxian "worldview," but on the concepts and method of Capita1. He reevaluated Marx's famous "coquetting" with Hegel, and showed that in that work, "a whole series of categories of central importance and in constant use stem directly from Hegel's Logic."5
Lukács reconstructed a philosophy of praxis from the methodological traces of Marx's own philosophical position visible in his economic writings. The result of this effort is not identical with the position of either the Manuscripts or the Grundrisse; nevertheless, it is impressive to what extent Lukács' somewhat speculative extrapolations from Marx's published work can find support in these unpublished ones. Most important, Lukács' philosophy of praxis has remarkable structural similarities to that of Marx, notably insofar as Lukács develops an original critique of philosophy paralleling Marx's own. A large part of the reason for this convergence of the early Marx and the early Marxist Lukács may be biographical. Like Marx, Lukács was deeply schooled in Hegelian dialectics and so when he sought to develop a Marxist philosophy, he returned precisely to the Hegelian doctrine from which Marx set out. Yet this biographical coincidence does not quite explain the similarity of the transformation undergone by Hegel's dialectic at the hands of Marx and Lukács. It is this link, mediated by the supposedly "scientific" work Capital, which bespeaks an affinity of Marxism for philosophy of praxis.
THE ANTINOMIES
The defining trait of philosophy of praxis, as I will use the term, is the attempt to show that the "antinomies" of philosophy can he resolved only in history. The concept of "antinomy" employed here is derived from Hegel, for whom it signifies the ever widening gap between subject and object in modern culture. Ever since Descartes distinguished the two substances, philosophy and life had become more and more sharply sundered in accordance with this distinction. Rich and complex theories of the subjective dimension of being construed the meaning of freedom, value, political ideals, while equally powerful and encompassing theories of the objective dimension of being explained the laws of necessity in nature and history in totally incompatible terms. From his earliest to his last works, Hegel saw his task as cataloguing the resulting contradictions in modern culture and transcending them in a dialectical conception of being which would take into account both its subjective and objective dimensions.
For Hegel the transcendence of the antinomies was a theoretical task, although he did believe that the theory could only be brought to perfection under specific historical conditions which happened to be those under which he lived. Philosophy of praxis begins with a critique of the conservative implications of this approach to resolving the antinomies. Marx argued that because Hegel could not conceive of really radical changes in modern culture, he tended to rationalize temporary historical conditions as though they were eternal necessities. Social revolution and not philosophical speculation was required to transcend the antinomies.
Had Marx confined himself to arguing this position in relation to the antinomies of moral and political life, he would have arrived at a new philosophy of value based on the demand for social change. This new philosophy would have been compatible with some traditional ontology and might have been formulated as a "left" variant of Hegel's philosophy. Marx's startling innovation was to include all the antinomies, those relating to epistemology and ontology as well as the moral and political ones, in denouncing Hegel's purely theoretical approach. Marx thus arrived at the astounding proposition that social change could not only accomplish such goals as reconciling individual and society, moral responsibility and self-interest, but that social change could also unite subject and object, thought and being, man and nature.
This proposition has a number of paradoxical corollaries from which we must not shrink in interpreting the early Marx. As we will see, Lukács too shares this same approach. When philosophy of praxis contends that human action is philosophically pertinent not just in ethics or politics but in all domains generally, it is asserting a wholly original ontological position. For this philosophy, human action touches the substratum of being as such, and not simply those special domains we usually conceive as affected by our activities. In somewhat different terms, essentially this same requirement can be formulated as the transcendence of the antinomy of value and fact, "Ought" and "Is." For, if human action can affect being, then values do not confront reality as a normless and humanly indifferent sphere, but rather as its highest potentialities.
The philosophy of praxis is thus opposed to both naturalism, for which human being is only a marginal and ontologically insignificant facet of reality, and also to ethical idealism, for which values stand impotently opposed to a reality defined at the outset as indifferent to value. Hence Marx writes that "nature too, taken abstractly, for itself, and rigidly separated from man, is nothing for man."6 And Lukács argues that "the unmediated juxtaposition of natural laws and ethical imperatives is the logical expression of immediate societal existence in bourgeois society."7
This position is a coherent one only where the being of being generally is interpreted through a special sphere of being in which human being is actually able to transform the objects on which it acts. Then the apparently humanly indifferent spheres, such as nature, can be ontologically subordinated to those spheres within which human being can affect the substratum of reality. The attempt to understand being in general through human being is a kind of inverted philosophical anthropology. Marx and Lukács share this approach with philosophers such as Feuerbach and Heidegger, with this difference: the latter conceive human being metaphysically, and so construct speculative philosophies with moralistic overtones. For Marx and Lukács, on the contrary, history is the "paradigmatic order" for the interpretation of being generally.8
Because of this historical orientation, the philosophy of praxis is not a speculative doctrine, but is based on the (social) scientific study of reality. But, for this philosophy, "reality" is history, and history itself is to be understood as in essence an object of human practice. The ontologically significant relation between human being and being in general is now social action because history is constituted in such action. As Lukács puts it, "We have . . . made our own history and if we are able to regard the whole of reality [Wirklichkeit] as history (i.e. as our history, for there is no other), we shall have raised ourselves in fact to the position from which reality can be understood as our 'action.'"9
Because the philosophy of praxis conceives being as history and history as the product of human action, it can mutatis mutandis conceive of human action as pertinent to being. Then it can be shown that such philosophical antinomies as that of subject and object, value and fact can be transcended in history. Such transcending action takes on a universal significance, going beyond the merely human world to affect being as such. For philosophy of praxis, history is ontology, the becoming of the human species is the privileged domain within which the problems of the theory of being can finally be resolved. As Marcuse writes in an early essay on Marx's Manuscripts: "The history of man is at the same time the process of 'the whole of nature'; his history is the 'production and reproduction' of the whole of nature, furtherance of what exists objectively through once again transcending its current form.10
Throughout this book, I will be concerned with the implications of this remarkable proposition. These implications can be considered under two main headings. First, there is the dimension of philosophy of praxis concerned with the resolution of social antinomies through the disalienation or dereification of social life. The discussion of this social dimension of the theory will occupy the major portion of this book. As I have argued above, the philosophical ambition of Marx and Lukács goes beyond social theory, for they claim that all objectivity can be disalienated starting out from the disalienation of society. This wider claim indicates a second dimension of the theory concerned with the ontological generalization of results of the analysis of society. This most daring dimension of the philosophy of praxis will be treated separately in the concluding chapters of this book. There I will consider serious objections to the philosophy of praxis and attempt to formulate an original response drawing on the resources of philosophy of praxis itself. Before returning now to the social issues that will be the concern of the larger portion of this book, I would like to consider briefly some of the objections to viewing Marx's philosophy of praxis as a contribution to ontology.
ONTOLOGY OR HISTORY
The interpretation of Marx's Manuscripts as a philosophy of praxis in my sense is contested by an important tradition of Marx scholarship, the Frankfurt School. Alfred Schmidt's careful study of Marx's concept of nature attempts to situate the Manuscripts at an equal distance from a materialist ontology and a radical historicism such as that described above. Jurgen Habermas also rejects the interpretation of Marx's Manuscripts as a philosophy of praxis. Habermas argues that the early Marx distinguishes between nature as such, and nature as it enters the historical sphere through labor, and which therefore has a social character. This would restrict Marx's conclusions to society, in the larger framework of some traditional ontology in which being is in essence independent of man. Within this same tradition, however, it is customary to interpret Lukács' early Marxism critically as a philosophy of praxis. Thus the common traits I attempt to identify in these two basic sources of Marxist philosophy are here denied.
It is interesting to note that the other highly influential contemporary school of Marxist thought, that founded by Louis Althusser, makes no such distinction. Rejecting equally the early Marxist thought of both Marx and Lukács, the Althusserians see in them both a romantic refusal of scientific objectivity and the independence of nature. There is thus a certain unwitting convergence of Frankfurt School and Althusserian interpretations in that both emphasize the autonomy of nature as against philosophy of praxis and condemn as idealistic any doctrine that attempts to understand nature through history. I cannot consider these convergent critiques in detail. Here I would like simply to sketch the Frankfurt School's attempt to "save" the early Marx from historicism.
In Knowledge and Human Interests, Habermas does admit that Marx's text is ambiguous on this score. He claims that the ambiguities have given rise to a "phenomenological strain of Marxism" which overlooks Marx's naturalism and for which, therefore, "the category of labor then acquires unawares the meaning of world-constituting life activity in general.''1l Although Habermas includes Marcuse in this phenomenological tendency, only some of Marcuse's early essays truly belong to it. His later Reason and Revolution in fact belongs to the opposed tendency for which Habermas speaks.
There Marcuse formulates a position close to Schmidt's and Habermas' in denying the ontological status of social categories. Marcuse too notes the ambiguities of Marx's text; he writes of it: "All this has an obvious resemblance to Hegel's idea of reason. Marx even goes so far as to describe the self-realization of man in terms of the unity of thought and being.''12 But, in fact, "Marx . . . detached dialectic from this ontological base. In his work, the negativity of reality becomes a historical condition which cannot be hypostatized as a metaphysical state of affairs.''13 And so for Marx, "The idea of reason has been superseded by the idea of happiness."14
Such an interpretation may explain Marx's later Marxism but it does not account for the Manuscripts. It is particularly significant that in the formulations of Habermas and Marcuse, all the antinomies Marx attempted to transcend reappear as alternatives between which he is supposed to have chosen: naturalism or humanism, history or ontology, happiness or reason. But Marx himself writes:
"Communism as a fully developed naturalism is humanism, and as a fully developed humanism is naturalism. It is the definitive resolution of the antagonism between man and nature, and between man and man. It is the true solution of the conflict between existence and essence between objectification and self-affirmation, between freedom and necessity, between individual and species. It is the solution of the riddle of history and knows itself to be this solution."l5
Marx himself would not have defined his own advance over Hegel as the demonstration that alienation is a historical category rather than an ontological one. Rather, his advance was to show that all ontology is historical in essence and that the dichotomy between being and history is therefore false. The idea that history, properly understood, has ontological significance is the main philosophical claim of philosophy of praxis. Marx did not choose between an ontological and a historical interpretation of the social categories; he chose both. Only such an understanding of the text can make sense of Marx's most striking utterances, such as the one just quoted, or the following: "Society is the accomplished union of man and nature, the veritable resurrection of nature, the realized naturalism of man and the realized humanism of nature."16
THE NORMATIVE DIMENSION
The interpretation of the Manuscripts as a philosophy of praxis contributes to clarifying the debate concerning the "ethical" moment in Marx's early work. Marx's concept of the "human essence" which is "alienated" under capitalism is frequently interpreted as an ethical ideal opposed to a normless reality. Others see in the Manuscripts an attempt to transcend the opposition of value and fact implied in such an ethical conception. The debate over the Manuscripts is of course related to the larger debate over Marxism and ethics.17 Considered as a philosophy of praxis, Marx's theory is unquestionably normative in some sense, but I argue that it is not based on an ethical conception.
What is at stake here is the dialectical character of Marx's theory, hence also his relation to Hegel. Were Marx to accept the dichotomy of value and fact, ethical and social reality, he would regress behind Hegel to a utopian-moralistic position like that of Bruno Bauer, Moses Hess and the other Left Hegelians. In his discussion of Hess, Lukács has shown that this philosophical tendency attempted to recover revolutionary possibilities by positing ethical values as the basis for knowledge of the future, in opposition to Hegel's concrete analysis of and reconciliation with the present moment. But in the process, these thinkers lost Hegel's great advance over Kant and Fichte, his concept of being as continuous becoming. As Marcuse explains it, "Every state of existence has to be surpassed; it is something negative, which things, driven by their inner potentialities, desert for another state, which again reveals itself as negative, as limit."18 It is through this conception that Hegel relativized the ethical ideal as a moment in the real process of becoming of what is, and so went beyond utopian moralism. This Hegelian conception of development is also the philosophical basis of the Marxian idea of a "transition" to socialism, in contrast with utopian schemes of reform.
Lukács discovers in this Hegelian dialectic of "Ought" and "Is" the basis of the Marxian critique of political economy as revolutionary science. He writes that,
"In contrast to Fichte with his revolutionary Utopia, Hegel developed very early on in his work the tendency to "understand what is," a tendency which originally pointed energetically in the direction of the future. His concern to comprehend the present as at once become and becoming is . . . the germ of a true historical dialectics (the dialectics of history translated into thought). For it is precisely in the present that all forms of objectivity can be revealed quite concretely as processes, since it is the present which shows most clearly the unity of result and starting point of the process. Given that, the rejection of all "Oughts" and futuristic utopian thinking, the concentration of philosophy on knowledge of the present (grasped dialectically) emerges precisely as the only possible epistemological method of knowing what is really knowable about the future, the tendencies within the present which impel it really and concretely towards the future."19
On these terms, were Marx to posit the "human essence" as an ethical ideal, Hegelian philosophy would already have transcended it in thought through the demonstration of the relative rationality of what is. Alienation might, like the police courts Hegel deduces from the Idea, remain as an unpleasant fact of practical life. But then so are fleas and measles. The indifference of philosophical reason to such matters, essentially to human happiness and fulfillment, is not arbitrary but expresses the actual limits of the social world. The demand for the abstract ideal is already presupposed by this philosophy as a moment of romantic negation necessarily frustrated by an objectivity which transcends it, that is to say, by reason itself. This philosophy is not overcome by the renewed positing of the ideal, but rather anticipates the latter and refutes it in advance.
Hegel's critique of Kant and of abstract ethical idealism in general, influenced Marx to seek a basis for revolutionary theory in the tendencies of social reality, in a dialectic of ideal and real in history. In his early writings, Marx attempts to transfer the ideal concepts of political philosophy from the domain of pure thought to the domain of reality, where they can be treated as potentialities awaiting realization. The contradictions between philosophy and reality are reformulated as immanent contradictions in reality itself. The new method is neither speculative nor empirical, but synthesizes these contrary approaches in a reflective ideology-critique. This ideology-critique relativizes what is and what ought to be as contradictory tendencies actually inhabiting the real-in-process.
Thus Marx does not set out from a philosophically elaborated concept of the state, that might be immediately contrasted with the institutions he wishes to criticize. In fact, he dismisses this method contemptuously in a letter to Ruge: "Until now the philosophers had the solution to all riddles in their desks, and the stupid outside world simply had to open its mouth so that the roasted pigeons of absolute science might fly into it."20 Instead, the philosophical deduction of what ought to be must proceed from actual social struggles in which the living contradiction of ideal and real appears. The appropriate role for the new philosopher consists in "explaining to the world its own acts," showing that actual struggles contain a transcending content that can be linked to the concept of a rational social life. "The critic," Marx writes, "therefore can start with any form of theoretical and practical consciousness and develop the true actuality out of the forms inherent in existing actuality as its ought-to-be and goal.''21
In these earliest " Marxist" writings, Marx can be seen struggling to release new grounds for revolution from the conservative Hegelian formulation of political philosophy. A generation later Engels summarized Marx's conclusion with admirable simplicity. Where Hegel had claimed that "All that is real is rational; and all that is rational is real," for Marx:
"The Hegelian proposition turns into its opposite through Hegelian dialectics itself all that is real in the sphere of human history becomes irrational in the process of time, is therefore irrational by its very destination, is tainted beforehand with irrationality; and everything which is rational in the minds of men is destined to become real, however much it may contradict existing apparent reality. In accordance with all the rules of the Hegelian method of thought, the proposition of the rationality of everything which is real resolves itself into the other proposition all that exists deserves to perish."22
In sum, the only way beyond Hegel is through him. This passage Marx makes in the Manuscripts, where he is finally able to "develop the true actuality out of the forms inherent in existing actuality as its ought-to-be and goal." There Marx identifies reason (true actuality) with the historically and socially mediated process of satisfying human needs and on that basis developing human individuality. Then the "existing actuality," alienated capitalist society, is shown to be reason's "unreasonable form," which must be further mediated and overcome through revolution. The critique of political economy, which begins already in the Manuscripts, appears here as the derivation of socialist potentialities from the contradictions of the given capitalist forms. The "ought-to-be and goal" emerges from the dialectic of existence and essence as a demand of reason, a methodological precondition of rationality, and not as an ethical ideal.
As a philosopher of praxis, Marx attempts to reconstruct the concept of reason so that capitalist alienation appears as reason's essential problem, a problem to be resolved through historical action. Marx takes what for Hegel and earlier philosophy is a mere social contingency, human suffering, and dignifies it with ontological status, not in order to attribute it to the human condition generally, but rather the better to comprehend the presuppositions of its historical transcendence. These presuppositions are preserved ideally in philosophy, in the concept of reason, and therefore Marx insists, against the reformers of the "practical political party," that "You cannot abolish philosophy without realizing it."23
The concept of an "Aufhebung" of philosophy also has a methodological side, with which we will be focally concerned in this book. Once again, it is by reference to the Frankfurt School that I will attempt to clarify the project of the early Marx and Lukács.
META-THEORY AS IDEOLOGY-CRITIQUE
The terms "meta-theory" and "meta-critique" have entered Marxist discourse through the Frankfurt School. They have achieved wide currency lately through Habermas' use of them to refer to the study of the various forms of theory in the light of their intrinsic dependence on specific "knowledge-constitutive interests."24 These interests Habermas distinguishes from those of everyday practical affairs by their enormous generality, which makes of them transcendental conditions of possible objectivity for the spheres of knowledge they determine. Thus, for Habermas scientific knowledge is not really value-free, but is based on an interest in technical control that first generates for human thought the type of object studied by science.
Habermas' innovation is admittedly based on the Marxist theory of ideology, which also attempts to identify, through reflection on the larger context of beliefs, hidden interests which these beliefs rationalize or serve. Habermas is nevertheless justified in abandoning the traditional concept of "ideology" to introduce a newer terminology, given the historical accretion of often contradictory meanings that have rendered the traditional concept almost useless without a definitional effort quite as large as that required by a neologism. Most importantly, I believe, with the term "meta-theory" Habermas emphasizes the reflective side of the concept of "ideology," while completely avoiding the reductionist implications of that concept in most current usages.
The term "meta-theory" in this sense bears a useful resemblance to the method of Lukács and Marx in certain of their studies of the philosophical tradition. The philosophy of praxis approaches this tradition critically while avoiding sociological reductionism. Marx and Lukács are less concerned with deriving the categories of bourgeois philosophy from the conditions of capitalist society than with uncovering the "rational kernel within the mystical skein" of this philosophy. They attempt, in other words, to discover what retains validity in the tradition in spite of its socially relative limitations, which they also identify. The methodological approach they employ is a reflective one, focused on the hidden connection of theory to a background of involvements from which one cannot successfully abstract, but which one can change.
There is, however, a considerable difference between what I will call the "meta-theoretical" approach of Marx and Lukács and the approach of Habermas. Habermas' knowledge constitutive interests are anthropological in their generality. The (relative) truth of knowledge is conserved in contact with these interests by reason of their very generality. Reductionism is thus avoided at the high price of a loss in sociological concreteness. Marx and Lukács, I believe, offer no such theory of general anthropological interests. Instead, the meta-theory moves in an opposite direction, toward a domain of concreteness which is claimed to be founding for the theoretical abstractions constructed on its basis. We might better compare this approach with that recommended by Whitehead in a different context:
"I hold that philosophy is the critic of abstractions. Its function is the double one, first of harmonizing them by assigning to them their relative status as abstractions, and secondly of completing them by direct comparison with more concrete intuitions of the universe and thereby promoting the formation of more complete schemes of thought."25
In Marx and Lukács, of course, the aim of such criticism of abstractions is not to found a speculative metaphysics, but rather to achieve what might be called a sociological desublimation of the concepts of philosophy.
To some extent this difference in orientation, as compared with Habermas, may be due to the fact that the latter is primarily concerned to refute a supposedly value-free positivism, while Marx and Lukács reflect on social theory in a cultural climate deeply imbued by Kantianism. In Kantian philosophy the formal properties of rationality are abstracted as completely as possible from the particular contents on which the faculty of reason exercises itself. The Kantian system consists in the derivation of these formal properties as they relate to epistemology, ethics and aesthetics, as general preconditions for any and all knowledge and action in the corresponding domains of real life. But, as Lukács notes, Kant is sufficiently rigorous and honest to acknowledge the difficulty of linking up this paradigm of reason with the concrete content of the life processes from which it has been abstracted and for which it is supposed to provide the preconditions.
In this Kantian cultural climate, both Marx and Lukács follow in the footsteps of Hegel in attempting to resolve the antinomies of form and content that arise from the formalistic paradigm of rationality. To Hegel they owe dialectics as the method through which the opposites can be reconciled in a higher unity, a totality. The application of the concept of totality to the study of the historically given forms of rationality provides the basis for a social theory of theory which is not reductive, for an ideology-critique in the most interesting sense of the term. In their application of dialectics, the juxtaposition of the abstract theoretical concepts of philosophy with a specific social background both explains the impasses and antinomies of theory on a social basis, and shows a path to resolution through social action. Thus philosophy is not seen as a mere rationalization of covert interests, nor as a merely passive reflection of production relations. Rather, it is shown to be the form in which the actual contradictions of social life are raised to consciousness most generally and most rigorously under the horizon of the given society.
Susan Buck-Morss has argued recently that Adorno's cultural criticism was deeply influenced by this method, as he discovered it in Lukács. She summarizes Lukács' approach lucidly as follows:
"Instead of reducing bourgeois thought to the economic conditions of its production, Lukács argued that the nature of those conditions could be found within the intellectual phenomena themselves.... Once these thinkers accepted given social reality as the reality, they had to come upon a barrier of irrationality which could not be overcome (and which had led Kant to posit the thing-in-itself, because that barrier could not be removed from theory without being removed from society. Conversely, if theorists could see through the reified appearances, they would recognize that the antinomies of philosophy were due not to the inadequacies of reason, but to those of the reality in which reason tried to find itself." 26
Much the same analysis could be made, in a general way, of Marx's early discussions of political philosophy, or his critique of Hegel's Phenomenology in the Manuscripts. It is noteworthy too that Marx's most illuminating later comment on the theory of ideology points in the same direction. Speaking of the "relationship between the political and literary representatives of a class and the class they represent," Marx says:
"What makes them representatives . . . is the fact that in their minds they do not get beyond the limits which the latter do not get beyond in life, that they are consequently driven, theoretically, to the same problems and solutions to which material interest and social position drive the latter practically".27
The uniqueness of the approach taken by Marx and Lukács which distinguishes it not only from Kant but also from Hegel is their common belief that the primary antinomy to be overcome is that of traditional philosophy and social reality. Here the term "meta-theory" applies in a double sense. Not only do Marx and Lukács attempt to relate philosophical abstractions to the social lifeworld, but they claim to identify the intrinsic limitation of the method of formulating abstractions in traditional philosophy. This limitation, they argue, is due to the tradition's systematic refusal to consider the philosophical implications of really fundamental social change. Because traditional philosophy assumes that the alienated foundations of the social order are rooted in the very nature of reality, it concludes that the antinomies can only be resolved speculatively, in thought, and formulates them in view of this sort of resolution. The criterion of philosophical adequacy that guides concept formation in the tradition thus reflects an implicit sense of the limits of social change which Marx and Lukács explicitly challenge. For them, the resolution of the antinomies requires a form of radical social transformation unimagined or rejected as impossible by the tradition. Marx and Lukács defend their point of view by arguing that this transformation is really possible, and on this basis they claim to offer an entirely new interpretation of the antinomies, freed from the limitations of the tradition.
Nevertheless, neither Marx nor Lukács simply dismiss philosophy. Rather, they proceed from the assumption that the split between the concept of reason, as elaborated in philosophy, and its concrete social substratum reflects contradictions in social reality and points the way toward the practical resolution of the latter. Traditional philosophy, in spite of its limits, was able to identify social potentialities, even if only in a speculative form antagonistic to practice. The problem now consists in reconstructing the insights of this philosophy in a new context, oriented toward practical social change. Marcuse summarizes this conclusion as follows: "The philosophical construction of reason is replaced by the creation of a rational society. The philosophical ideals of a better world and of true Being are incorporated into the practical aim of struggling mankind, where they take on a human form."28
In sum, the meta-theoretical approach in the sense the term will be used here consists in dialectically relativizing philosophical form and social content, and correspondingly, theory and practice. A standpoint immanent to both theory and the philosophical tradition is equally rejected. Marx and Lukács do not philosophize within the historically given tradition, presupposing the continuing validity of philosophy as such, and eo ipso of its forms of evidence and its problematics. Rather, they consider the tradition as essentially completed, and then proceed to study it from "outside," as a relative moment in a larger social process in which practice can intervene. It is in this light, and not in some merely pragmatic sense of urgency, that we are to understand Marx's thesis: "Philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is, to change it."29
A NOTE ON THEORY AND PRACTICE30
Within the tradition of Western Marxism, these rather opaque formulations of the theory-practice relation have a quite definite meaning. One of the aims of this book is to clarify that meaning as it is understood within that tradition. Since I am writing within that tradition myself, I will continue to use terms like "philosophy," "theory," "practice, "and phrases like "the unity of theory and practice," "the realization of philosophy," in much the sense that Marx and Lukács use them. Before proceeding on this basis, I would like to step briefly outside that framework to anticipate certain objections that are frequently made to the Marxist treatment of the theory-practice relation. These objections might be put in the form of questions that implicitly challenge the very idea of a unity of theory and practice or a realization of philosophy in Marx's and Lukács' sense. Here are some examples:
1. Marx and Lukács claim that they are "realizing" philosophy, putting theory into practice. How does this differ from "applying" theory to the solution of a practical problem?
2. Marx and Lukács claim that the philosophical tradition is finished, which would seem to mean that they themselves are not philosophers contributing to that tradition. Yet surely works like Marx's Manuscripts and Lukács' History and Class Consciousness are philosophical works. Are they then philosophers, and if so how can they elaborate a philosophy on the basis of the proposition that philosophy is dead?
3. Marx and Lukács seem to say that only the revolution can "solve" philosophical problems, and yet they propose their solutions to these problems in philosophical works written before the revolution. Does this not imply that the revolution is after all irrelevant to the solution of philosophical problems?
These questions arise largely from problems in understanding Western Marxism's special terminology. When this terminology is understood it becomes clear that Marx and Lukács are not making quite such wild and radical claims as they at first appear to be making. The chief difficulties stem from ambiguities in the terms "philosophy" and "theory." I will therefore treat these first.
Marx and Lukács do not use the term ''philosophy'' to refer primarily to the activity of reflecting on the basic assumptions and ideas of a culture. In this sense they are obviously still doing philosophy, and they would not deny it. For them, "philosophy" refers to a specific historical tradition of reflection that develops common themes from the Greeks to Hegel. They do regard this tradition as "completed," and they would deny that they are merely continuing it in their own work. The unity of the tradition consists in certain paradigmatic concepts and methods which run through it from the beginning to the end, in spite of major variations and innovations. It is this paradigm which has been exhausted, not the activity of reflection per se.
However unfamiliar this approach to understanding philosophy may be in the Anglo-American context, it is a well identified tendency in Continental philosophy since Feuerbach. The early Marx and Lukács, Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Derrida have all proposed general theories of the unity of the philosophical tradition, and on that basis have announced its end. This amounts to treating philosophy a bit like the monuments of a dying civilization. Reflection continues, and indeed it has no original concepts to substitute for the old ones. But the philosopher's relation to these concepts is no longer immediate, naive; the "death" of philosophy means no more than that thinkers become conscious of the historical limits of the cultural system on the basis of which these concepts arise.
For Marxists, this consciousness is specifically social. They trace the origin of philosophy's eternal truths, its constants and paradigms, back to social causes that, they believe, are in the process of disappearing. There is a particularly clear statement of this position in the Communist Manifesto.
"The history of all past society has consisted in the development of class antagonisms, antagonisms that assumed different forms at different epochs. But whatever form they may have taken, one fact is common to all past ages, viz., the exploitation of one part of society by the other. No wonder, then, that the social consciousness of past ages, despite all the multiplicity and variety it displays, moves within certain forms, or general ideas, which cannot completely vanish except with the total disappearance of class antagonisms. The Communist revolution is the most radical rupture with traditional property relations; no wonder that its development involves the most radical rupture with traditional ideas.31
If we accept the limitation of "philosophy" to a specific tradition bound up with the history of class society, then we need a wider term with which to refer to the general process of reflection on basic assumptions of which this "philosophy" would be an instance. This more general term is "theory." Now we need to distinguish between two types of theory, a type which is identified with traditional philosophy and a new type which is identified with the sort of reflection in which Marxism engages. This is precisely the distinction between "traditional' and "critical" theory that Horkheimer made in a famous essay. Like the Frankfort School, Marx and Lukács argue that traditional theory has been superseded by a new critical theory. In the works with which we will he concerned they do not suggest that philosophy should be abandoned for practical activity or simply "applied" in the usual technical sense of the term. The point, then, is not that reflection should cease, but that a new kind of reflection is needed.
This new kind of reflection differs from the old at two levels. On the one hand, it treats many assumptions which the philosophical tradition took for granted as problems. On the other hand, it treats these assumptions as problems at the specific level of the social causes from which they arise. For example, instead of accepting the eternal necessity of the antinomy of public and private interest, critical theory would show that this antinomy has a specific social cause that can be removed. Critical theory still works with the concepts of public and private interest elaborated in philosophy, but it problematizes the social background against which these two forms of interest arise as antagonistic opposites.
The critique of abstract or "pure" theory is to be understood in this context. It is, once again, not that Marx and Lukács reject conceptual generality for empirical specificity, but rather that for them the process of abstraction in which philosophy detaches its concepts from their social basis gives rise to a bias they reject. This is a bias toward treating philosophical issues as though they rested on eternal facts of nature or ontologically necessary dimensions of the human condition. But once conceived in this way, the social background of these issues is occluded and it becomes impossible to imagine human action contributing to changing this background. Marx and Lukács thus do not return to the empirical so much as show the inseparable connection between the most abstract concepts of philosophy and a concrete social context, which can be changed. This type of reflection resembles what Douglas Hofstadter has called a "strange loop": at the very top of the conceptual hierarchy, at the point at which one reaches the most general and abstract concepts, one finds oneself suddenly plunged down to the lowest rung of the conceptual ladder.
Let me return now to the example of the antinomy of public and private interest cited above to illustrate how practice can contribute to resolving a theoretical problem. Plato sets up the problem as philosophy has treated it ever since. Plato's guardians are qualified to rule by the complete elimination of their private lives; they cannot even know their OWI1 children. (For the Greeks the abolition of the family is the abolition of the private sphere itself.) The lower classes of the Republic pursue private interests but this disqualifies them from rule. The antinomy is evident here. It does not disappear in as different a philosophical doctrine as Rousseau's. Rousseau distinguishes the general will from the will of all as two opposed types of interest. It is true that he does not conceive of a special class as the bearer of the general will, but instead projects the antinomy into the individual. The measure of the split in the individual this produces is the degree of "virtue" required to participate in citizenship. Even a Mandeville, who claims that "private vices are public benefits," readily admits that the intention of the individuals in pursuing private interests is antagonistic to social welfare and only increases it by a paradoxical reversal in contact with other similarly corrupt private interests.
For a Marxist the limitation of this type of thinking is clear. The unquestioned assumption that lies behind the antinomy is the permanency of privately owned means of production the administration of which places the individuals in an antagonistic relation to each other. Public interests then arise alongside the private ones insofar as the community has needs which are not identical with the mere summation of these antagonistic private interests. But what if this basic assumption was false? What if historical conditions arose in which private ownership of means of production could be replaced by the rational administration of both the economy and the state in the interests of the whole community? Of course some forms of "private" interest would remain, but these would not stand in an antinomial relation to the public interest of the community. Instead of dedication to public interest requiring renunciation of private interests, the two could support each other harmoniously. The traditional philosophical construction of the issue would no longer apply.
The point I want to make is not that such a Marxist reform of society would work—that is another prohlem—but rather that once one envisages it as a real possibility, social action appears to play a central role in resolving philosophical problems that have traditionally been treated as purely theoretical in character. It is this new role for social action which is intended by the concept of a "unity" of theory and practice. Philosophy is "realized" in this unity in the sense that its old ideal of somehow reconciling public and private interest is finally achieved. The new element is that this realization involves a radical social change, and not a purely conceptual mediation such as Plato's utopia, Rousseau's "virtue," or Mandeville's equivalent of the "invisible hand."
Note that the revolution need not already have succeeded for this new type of theoretical reflection to proceed. Reflection can always go beyond the given achievements of its era toward ideal outcomes. This is true of Marx as much as it is of Plato. But what appears as a real possibility to anticipatory thinking differs drastically with time and place. Even in his wildest speculations, Plato saw no way to abolish slavery. Aristotle once made the fantastic suggestion that slavery could be abolished if tools would activate themselves without human agency. Marx writes in a time when this idle fantasy of the ancients appears as an imminent possibility. On the basis of this changed historical situation, he imagines a wholly different practical context for philosophy than the one prevailing in all class societies. Thus Marxists do not need to wait for the revolution to propose theoretical analyses of the solutions to problems it is supposed to bring about. However, they do generally insist that only by struggling against capitalism has the working class been able to shake up the dominant assumptions of a millenial class culture so that these assumptions can finally be problematized in theory and new solutions to old problems anticipated. Later chapters will explain this connection between theory and practice in more detail.
Notes
(Throughout the footnotes, Georg Lukács, History and Class Consciousness, trans. by R. Livingstone (Cambridge: MIT, 1971) will be referred to as "HCC." All references are to this edition, but Livingstone's translation has sometimes been modified to approach literalness as nearly as possible.)
CHAPTER I
1. The contrast between these two dimensions of the Marxian theory is usefully developed in relation to Lukács by Andrew Arato in "Lukács' Theory of Reification," Telos, no. 11 (1972), pp. 52-53. Cf. also, Stanley Moore, "Utopian Themes in Marx and Mao: A Critique for Modern Revisionists," Monthly Review 21, no. 2 (1969).
2. Important summaries of the debate are contained in: Ernest Mandel, La Formation de la Pensee Economique de Karl Marx (Paris: Maspero, 1967); Jurgen Habermas, Theorie und Praxis (Neuwied und Berlin: Luchterhand, 1967). Also interesting are: Herbert Marcuse, "The Foundations of Historical Materialism," in Studies in Critical Theory, trans. by J. de Bres, (Boston: Beacon, 1973), first published in 1932; Louis Althusser, "Sur le jeune Marx," in Pour Marx (Paris: Maspero, 1966); Bertell Ollman, Alienation (New York: Cambridge University, 1971); Istvan Meszaros, Marx's Theory of Alienation (New York: Harper & Row, 1972).
3. Important discussions of the relation of the Grundrisse to Capital are: Roman Rosdolsky, Zur Entstehungsgeschichte des Marxschen 'Kapital' (Wien: Europa Verlag, 1968); Irving Fetscher, "The Young and the Old Marx," in Shlomo Avineri, ed., Marx's Socialism (New York: Lieber Atherton, 1973); Ernst Mandel, La Formation de la Pensee Economique de Karl Marx (Paris: Maspero, 1967). The authors all agree that the early concept of alienation in Marx is further developed in the concept of fetishism in Capital.
4. Mandel, op. cit., p. 172.
5. HCC, p. xliv (emphasis omitted).
6. Marx, "Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts," Karl Marx: Early Writings, trans. and ea., by T. B. Bottomore (London: C. A. Watts, 1963), p. 217.
7. HCC, p. 197.
8. HCC, p. 144.
9. HCC, p. 145. For a further discussion of Lukács' concept of praxis, see Lucien Goldmann, Lukács et Heidegger (Paris: Denoel, 1973), pp. 103105.
10. Herbert Marcuse, "The Foundations of Historical Materialism, op. cit., p. 24. The translator has somewhat simplified the original. Cf. Herbert Marcuse ''Neue Qnellen zur Grundlegung des Historischen Materialismus, in Der Deutsche kunstlerroman, Fruhe Aufsatze (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1979), p. 530 531.
11. Jurgen Habermas, Knowledge and Human Interests, trans. by J. Shapiro, (Boston: Beacon, 1971), p. 28.
12. Herbert Marcuse, Reason and Revolution (Boston: Beacon, 1964), p. 275.
13. Ibid., p. 314.
14. Ibid., p. 293. Clearly, Marcuse changed his position from that expressed in his 1932 essay, cited above.
15. Marx, ''Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts," op. cit., p. 155.
16. Ibid., p. 157. In this, as in many other passages from the early Marx quoted here, italics have been left out for the sake of clarity.
17. One who sees Marx's Manuscripts as an ethical work is Eugene Kamenka. See his, Marxism and Ethics (New York: St. Martins, 1969). A contrary position is taken by Bertell Ollman, op. cit., p. 47. Cf Allen Wood, "The Marxian Critique of Justice," Philosophy and Public Affairs 1, no. 3 (Spring 1972). For an important discussion of the historical debate over Marxism and ethics, see "Y a til une sociologic marxiste?" in Lucien Goldmann, Recherches Dialectiques (Paris: Gallimard, 1959).
18. Herbert Marcuse, Reason and Recolution (Boston: Beacon, 1964), p. 136.
19. Georg Lukács, "Moses Hess and the Prohlems of Idealistic Dialectics, in George Lukács, Tactics and Ethics, trans. by M. McColgan, ed. by R. Livingstone (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), p. 191.
20. Marx, "Letter to Ruge,' L. Easton and K. Guddat, trans. and eds., Writings of the Young Marx on Philosophy and Society (New York: Doubleday, 1967), p. 213.
21. Ibid., p. 213.
22. Frederick Engels, "Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy," Marx and Engels, Selected Works (New York: International, 1968), pp. 596 597.
23. Marx, "On the Jewish Question," op. cit., p. 50.
24. For a summary of the theory, see the appendix to Habermas' Knowledge and Human Interests.
25. Alfred North Whitehead, Science in the Modern World (New York: Mentor, 1948), p. 88.
26. Susan BuckMorss, The Origins of the Negative Dialectic (New York: The Free Press, 1977), pp. 26 27.
27. Marx, "The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte," Marx and Engels, Selected Works (New York: International, 1968), p. 121.
28. Herbert Marcuse, "Philosophy and Critical Theory," Negations, trans. J. Shapiro (Boston: Beacon, 1968), p. 142.
29. Marx, ''Theses on Feuerbach," L. Easton and K. Guddat, trans. and eds., Writings of the Young Marx on Philosophy and Society (New York: Doubleday, 1967), p. 402.
30. I owe many of the ideas in this section to Gerald Doppelt, who suggested that I include it.
31. Marx and Engels, The Communist Manifesto (New York: International, 1979), p. 29.