Since the turn of the century there has been a strong trend to break through the wall which has separated philosophy from the “special sciences” and to investigate the problems which require a good judgment in both philosophy and science. The evolution of science itself and the increasing relevance of science in human life have given immense momentum to this trend. But this momentum could not be appreciated in its actual strength because scientists who wanted to raise their voices had trouble in finding a Journal where they could communicate with the people who were interested, for almost all the scientific journals were devoted exclusively to technical papers. In founding Philosophy of Science Dr. Malisoff started the construction of a channel by which this important flow of scientific investigation could reach its public. This line of thought found in the journal a possibility of self-expression and it became a real force in the life of the community of scientists and scholars, and even of educated men in general. From the first volume, papers were published which have later been quoted in every discussion about the philosophy of science. I mention, as an example only, R. Carnap's paper on Testability and Meaning. Nobody who has wanted information and stimulation in this modern field of investigation could get it without looking into Malisoff's Philosophy of Science.

The original stimulus for the choice of this topic was a book on intellectual history. One of the most brilliant authors in this field, Carl Becker, claims that the most important event in the intellectual history of modern time was the shift in the place of logic in science. According to Becker, the high esteem for logic which the scientist had in the age of St. Thomas Aquinas and through all the Middle Ages declined in the period of Galileo and Newton. But at that time this decline was not yet fully understood. “The marriage of fact and reason” as Becker expresses himself “proved to be somewhat irksome in the nineteenth century and was altogether dissolved in the twentieth century.” The modern, twentieth century, physicist lives in an “atmosphere, which is so saturated with the actual that we can easily do with a minumum of theoretical” … “We have long since learned not to bother much with reason and logic.” To describe the spirit of twentieth century physics which emphasizes facts and minimizes reason Becker says: “Experiments seem to show that an electron may, for reasons best known to itself, be moving at two orbits at the same time. To this point Galileo's common sense method of noting the behavior of things, of sticking close to the observable facts has brought us. It has at last presented us with a fact that common sense repudiates.”

The idea of organism, which of recent years has bulked so largely in scientific, and especially in biological, theory has been developed mainly in reference to living organisms, and has been extended to cover such systems as human societies, crystals, molecules and atoms—and indeed the whole universe has been interpreted as an organism. This use of the term, however, includes different ways in which parts may be together in a system. The belief that the principle of organism has been wrongly extended to explain certain co-ordinations of vital processes which require a different type of explanation is the reason for this addition to the immense literature on the subject of organism.

The time has long passed when it was necessary to explain or to justify philosophy of science to a convention of scientists. The growing intent among philosophers and scientists to clarify and perhaps to unify the programs, methods, and results of the disciplines of philosophy and science is matched by a growing determination among the special sciences to cooperate in the examination of fundamental concepts and presuppositions in the light of the positive results of science, to cooperate in the systematic doubting of these positive results, and to cooperate in the thoroughgoing analysis and critique of logic and of language,—all of which are projects which can be carried out only by the joint effort of philosophers and scientists. In short, it has long since been realized that the special sciences cannot safely be abandoned to their devotees, exclusively. It was only twenty-five years ago that Santayana was able to say “I would gladly learn more of contemporary thinkers if they would only learn more of each other.” The implication that lies in that statement is hardly the case today, when the synoptic enterprise of philosophy-of-science is helping the scientific thinker to recognize the limitations of his task and the assumptions with which he starts, and to save him from being too easygoing in the criticism of his categories.

Since Protagoras' classic “man is the measure of all things,” claims of relativism and counter-claims have been tendered. The nineteenth century saw Durkheim, Levy-Bruhl, Westermarck, Pareto, Marx, and others, suggesting that institutions, customs, moral codes, and the like, are “relative” both to the culture and to the time. At the crest of this wave of “relativism” surged a vicious claim: that truth and knowledge itself were merely functions of particular conditions. The “validity” of knowledge was said to be at the whim of historic, social factors. Not only is no theory really true; no particular statement is ever so. Not only is no theory or statement really true; no theory of knowledge has thus far ever been free from the bias of its genesis. There have been no absolute insights for epistemology. Or so, at least, it was claimed.

1. Philosophy of Science. The term “philosophy of science” is used here to refer to the study of the approaches and methodologies of the sciences. By “approach” is understood the totality of the presuppositions of a given science (or body of sciences, or scientific product): more precisely, both philosophical and scientific presuppositions—that is, categories, postulates, and premises as conditions—and “existential” presuppositions (organic, geographic, socio-cultural). By “methodology” is understood the intellectual-emotional structure of a given science—that is, its categories, postulates, and premises as characteristics, as well as its concepts, methods, and techniques. Further, I advocate understanding a given science (or body of sciences, or scientific product) through a study of its approach and of its methodology. Finally, I submit that the best understanding of either of the two is impossible without the study of the other. More specifically, I advocate the consideration of a particular science (or body of sciences, e.g., the “social sciences,” or scientific product) as a given, and the interpretation of its intellectual structure or methodology (“immanent interpretation”); and then the study of its presuppositions or underlying approach (“transcendent interpretation”).

Formal implication is usually represented by symbolization such as ‘(x) φx ⊃ Ψx,’ which may be read, “for all values of ‘x’, φx (materially) implies Ψx.” If the values of the variable ‘x’, in ‘φx’ and ‘Ψx’ be ‘x1’ ‘x2’ ‘x3’, etc., then … ‘φx’ formally implies ‘Ψx’ if and only if, whatever values of ‘x’, ‘xn’, be chosen, ‘φxn’ materially implies ‘Ψxn’ …

However, this still leaves it doubtful which of two possible interpretations of expressions having the form ‘(x) φx ⊃ Ψx’ is to be taken as correct. … It means one thing to say, “Every existent having the property φ … has also the property Ψ,” and it means quite a different thing to say, “Every thinkable thing which should have the property φ must also have the property Ψ.” The second of these holds only when having the properly φ logically entails having the property Ψ; when ‘Ψx’ is deductible from ‘φx’. … The first of them, however, holds not only in such cases … but also in every case where among existent things, one property is universally accompanied by another. (C. I. Lewis, An Analysis of Knowledge and Evaluation, pp. 217–8. I am responsible for the italicizing of the sentence, otherwise the italics follow Lewis.)

As everyone who has looked into almost any philosophical journal within the last year is aware, Charles Morris has written a book on signs. (Signs, Language and Behavior, Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1946, hereafter abbreviated “SLB”) More precisely, he has elaborated a strain of thought found in his very earliest writings. A first, partial culmination of these ideas is his monograph Foundations of the Theory of Signs (FTS). Since the publication of FTS, Morris has conducted experiments relative to human sign behavior. SLB, I believe, is a revision and expansion of FTS to take into account new material supplied by these experiments and increased insight into the nature of behavior psychology. For Morris now asserts explicitly, what before he only hinted: that “Semiotic thus becomes a part of the empirical science of behavior, and can utilize whatever principles and predictions the general theory of behavior has attained or can attain.” (SLB p. 19)

1. An epistemological integration. Any proposition which is entertained in any mind will be represented by four points, one located on each of four scales, symbolizing truth, belief, probability, and conviction.

Prior to statistical mechanics and especially before the advent of the new quantum mechanics, it was traditionally held, following in the main the Kantian philosophy, that the task of science is to attain a unique quantitative representation of reality. It was thought—and with justifiable zeal—that a scientific discipline is exact to the extent to which a mathematical pattern yielding quantitative relations can be applied to its subject matter. This view was based on the implicit assumptions that functional relatedness conducive to quantitative evaluation is bound to reveal the most generic, and hence, the most essential traits of events.

More and more, natural scientists are becoming aware that they must consider the human element as one of the variables in physical measurement. Its measure has usually been hidden in what has been called the error of measurement. Part of its measure has been qualitative for we often hear that Mr. Soandso is a good or a poor experimenter or observer. As we go to engineering research or to any applied field, we become more conscious of the human element. Here, an attempt is made to design apparatus and measuring equipment that will operate or make measurements with minimum variability associated with people. Some problems, such as those dealing with what consumers want, require an even more complete knowledge about the behavior of people. It is not possible to define or to specify a product that will be satisfactory to the consumer if we do not know what the consumer wants. Hence, it is our first observation that the natural scientist needs information about the human element that is always present to some degree in his work.

Mr. Thomas Storer does not believe that a science of signs is of basic importance to philosophy, for philosophy, he holds, is not a formal or a factual science but an activity of clarifying meaning and building linguistic systems. I should like to defend the relevance to philosophy of a science of signs even when philosophy is so conceived, and then to question this conception of philosophy itself.

It is widely believed that a study of the dynamics of capitalist development eventuates in a determinate law of economic evolution. If we trace the origins of this assumption, we find that it stems from the influence of the Hegelian dialectic upon economic theory. The metaphysic of determinism has thus obtruded its way into social science, and brought with it the corollary that economic analysis yields an insight into the necessary pattern of capitalist development.

There are three elements involved in physical time. The most primitive of the three is the fact of extension in time. We express this fact by saying that things “endure” in time, or by saying that the universe is not an event of one moment only. Extension in time is such a fundamental and pervasive element of our experience, that we can hardly define it other than by denotatively indicating it. Time extension is basic to the other two elements of time.

The explosion of the first atomic bomb at the Alamagordo Bombing Range, New Mexico, on July 16, 1945, was the start of a new era, the dawn of the atomic age. The preliminary work on atomic fission was done before the last world war, and as military leaders visioned its great destructive possibilities, several countries entered the race to be the first to harness atomic fission for military purposes. Our own country gambled two billion dollars, and with the aid of certain European scientists and in collaboration with England and Canada, succeeded in developing a fission chain reaction that made possible the atomic bomb.

The term science is used to cover three separate categories, to which throughout this paper we shall give three separate names. There is (1) the field in which science operates. This is the external world of natural phenomena, partly uniform and partly chance. There is (2) the science itself. This is the laboratory of instruments, techniques, operations, the method by which the field is studied. Finally, there is (3) the laws. This is the level of abstractions, of causal laws or of statistical probability averages, invariant or approaching invariance, mathematically expressed. The three, of course, belong together. Science carries the activity; it studies the field to find the laws.

Everyone is agreed that mankind today finds itself virtually swimming in crises. The typical discussion of every world problem is so fraught with a sense of urgency, so steeped in the hyperbole of danger, that the discussions would be funny were they not so tragic.

The naive misunderstanding among economists of the relationship between economics and philosophy is as profound as it is prevalent. To be sure, economists have concerned themselves with the philosophy of economics only so much as to familiarize themselves with methodology and its application to economic inquiry. Since economics is the oldest and perhaps the most “respectable” of the social sciences its scholars have developed a phobia for anything they might suspect to be even remotely unscientific. Consequently, they have erroneously narrowed their understanding of the nature of economics. This narrowness prevails largely because most economists possess little or no training in general philosophy and especially in the philosophy of science. As a result of this apparent deficiency there exists in the minds of these economists confusion and inability to distinguish between teleology, axiology, and ethics as they do or do not apply to economics.

The very juxtaposition of the terms “physical science” and “social sciences” in the same sentence is indicative of the definitive trend now present in both physical science and in the thinking of the physical scientist. The two fields of human interest represented by physical science and the social sciences have drawn closer together, have coalesced at least in those areas of implication deducible from the fields themselves and this conjunction is fraught with consequences important to both fields.