About 1910 it became customary to call Bergsonism and all related tendencies ‘new philosophy’. This term was designed not only to contrast an apparently revolutionary idea with the classical intellectualism of the Franco-German academic tradition and with the platitudes of a philosophy that affirmed and believed itself to be inspired by positive science; the concept of ‘new philosophy’ was meant, above all, to imply that, starting with Bergson, philosophy intended to change its position in regard to human experience. No longer an explanation from afar of the world and of consciousness, philosophy professed to be henceforth one with this experience; not satisfied to shed light on man and his life, it aspired to become this life, now at the stage of complete self-awareness. It seemed that this ambition constrained the philosopher to renounce philosophy's ideal—to be an exact science—since this ideal is not only inseparable from the idea of an impartial and detached spectator, but also from that of a reality so constituted as to be an object of pure vision. On the other hand, however, to abandon this ideal proved less acceptable than ever. The startling progress of positive science gave birth, or rather rebirth, to the illusion of a total explanation: how then could one admit that philosophy would triumph over its secular uncertainties by drawing away from this brilliant example? The relative failure of Bergsonism is possibly due precisely to the fact that it never was willing to make any clear statement of choice in this matter.