ON THE CONFRQNTATIQN OF CLASSICAL
DEMOCRATIC THECIRY BY THE FINDINGS OF
CONTEMPORARY PGLI'E‘ECAL BEHAVIOR RESEARCH

‘E‘hesis few the 999m of M. A.
MICHIGAN STA‘EE UNIVERSITY

Ken? Thornton Johnson
1964

IHESIS

LIBRARY

Michigan Stats
University

 

 

 

 

LIBRARY

Michlgan State
University

 

 

ROOM USE ONLY

 

 

ABSTRACT

ON THE CONFRONTATION OF CLASSICAL
DEMOCRATIC THEORY BY THE FINDINGS OF
CONTEMPORARY POLITICAL BEHAVIOR RESEARCH

by Kent Thornton Johnson

The purpose of this thesis was to examine some aspects of the
confrontation of classical democratic theory with the findings of modern
empirical research. There has been a recent tendency to examine a
democracy in action and on the basis of the findings of the research to
question the classical doctrine of democracy. This thesis examines
this type of study to discover the validity of such an enterprise. In our
initial examination of the objections to the classical democratic theory
we saw that often the critics' understanding of that theory was not ade-
quate. There was a tendency to lump the writings of the many demo-
cratic theorists together in an amalgam that did violence to the thoughts
of any particular theorist. The critics tended to ignore the idea of re-
presentation which has been crucial to most, if not all, theories of
democracy. This disregards the many reasons for supporting democ-
racy in the first place, going considerably beyond mere worship of the
majority's decision.

When some revisions, which the critics offer, of the classical
theory were examined, we saw that certain of these revisions, and

especially those concerning the role of leadership, are already included

Kent Thornton Johnson

in the theory of democracy. Some of the other restatements would be
perfectly acceptable to the classical theorists since they make explicit
what was implied in the earlier works. There remained, however, a
number of points of direct disagreement between the classical theory
and the revised theory.

The modern scientific method seemed to be offered as a pos-
sible basis for choice between the alternative theories. The claim of
adherents to this method that it may produce statements of fact about
the real world was examined. This claim seemed to be justified, in
theory, although there are many practical problems which must be
faced by the scientific researcher if his results are not to be biased.
We examined the meaning of the term political philosophy and found
that it invariably included notions as to what ought to be the state of
affairs. We also examined the theory of scientific value relativism,
which may be called the other side of the scientific method. This
theory precludes scientific investigation of ultimate values but all
things which are valued relative to their relation to other values or
purposes may be examined scientifically. This consideration precludes
empirical proof of the scientific method itself and the justification of
that method depends upon philosophical considerations. While the
scientific method probably is productive of factual statements, these

statements may not be legitimately used to confront ”normative"

ii

Kent Thornton Johnson

theories, except insofar as these factual statements are used relatively
or are used to state impossibilities. The scientific student of politics,
by his acceptance of scientific method, has demonstrated that he believes
a statement of what should b_e differs, in kind, from a statement of what

is.

iii

-ON THE CONFRONTATION OF CLASSICAL
DEMOCRATIC THEORY BY THE FINDINGS OF

CONTEMPORARY POLITICAL BEHAVIOR RESEARCH

BY

Kent Thornton Johnson

A THESIS

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

MASTER OF ARTS

Department of Political Science

1964

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER
I. OBJECTIONS TO THE CLASSICAL DEMOCRATIC

THEORY ....................... 5
II. SOME SUGGESTED REVISIONS OF CLASSICAL

DEMOCRATIC THEORY . .......... . . . 38
III. THE VALUE OF CONTEMPORARY POLITICAL

BEHAVIOR RESEARCH ............ . . . 53
IV. THE RELATIONSHIP OF EMPIRICAL RESEARCH

AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY .......... 80

BIBLIOGRAPHY . ....... . . . . . . . ..... . . . 104

INTRODUCTION

The question of what constitutes the good society has long been
of interest to the student of politics. Arguments have raged across the
centuries upon this question. Should democracy, aristocracy, mon-
archy or some other form of government be championed? Brilliant
arguments have been brought forth favoring one or another of the forms
of society and, for a time, some of these arguments, after simplifica-
tion by the publicists and legan makers, have won general acceptance
and adherence to their respective causes. Until this point in history
there has not appeared to be any satisfactory ultimate criterion for
judgment of the issues brought forth excepting personal faith, personal
preference, etc.

Twenty-five centuries of dedicated study of politics have
naturally produced a good many highly plausible but, unfor-
tunately, contradictory hypotheses, each strongly supported
by common sense, that can be argued till Doomsday so long
as one sticks to the older methods of analysis. 1

There has been no way to compare two ultimate value judg-
ments, i. e. a view that absolute majority rule per se should be valued
as opposed to a view that democracy should protect the rights of a

minority. The study of politics is being changed radically so that the

empirical, the behavioral, the quantitative, or, in short, the scientific

 

1Robert A. Dahl, Modern Political Analysis (Englewood Cliffs,
New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Incorporated, 1963) p. viii. It should be
pointed out that Dahl goes on to say, "Yet all questions never do get
settled; and probably they never will. "

 

2
approaches to study are the most widely esteemed among most modern
students of politics. This development led to a distrust of ”normative"
theory since it is not based upon empirical data, and, therefore, the
modern approach rejects the possibility of establishing any ultimate
validity for such theory. This distrust of non-empirically based theory
has led to a tendency to confront such theory with practice. An inter—
esting example is provided in the public opinion polls of the thirties in
which it was fashionable to demonstrate how much people did not know
which they had been assumed to know. The results of such studies are
interesting and may be of great value, however, there has been a tend-
ency to go one step further. This additional step involves changing, or
constructing, a theory of political behavior in light of recently dis-
covered facts which are not accounted for by the older theory. It is this
additional step which will be examined in this thesis.

To accomplish this study we will pick a particular group of
theories, modern theories of democracy, and examine their confronta-
tion with the empirical facts about democracies discovered by the
scientific student of politics. An initial problem which we must face is
that of defining a democratic theory. There has been considerable
hesitancy about doing this as Ranney and Kendall indicate. A

harmful consequence of our habit of equating 'democracy' with

'the Good' is that any attempt to give more specific content to
the term 'democracy' encounters considerable resistance.

IHES

 

Not only do a surprisingly large number of people object to the

results of any particular attempt: many resent the attempt's

being made at all. 1
An outgrowth of this phenomenon has been the questioning of the demo-
cratic credentials of any philosopher we might wish to identify as a
democratic philoSOpher. This questioning has taken place usually upon
the question of whether his ideas are compatible with our notion of "the
Good. ” Since the term ”democracy" has acquired an almost univer-
sally favorable connotation we cannot h0pe to escape these consequences.
For the purposes of this paper we will choose, as much as possible,
those philosophers whose theories are questioned by the critics since
we are less interested in the specific theory or the specific revision
than we are in the actual confrontation of theory and practice. We shall
also mention various other philOSOphers, who are generally regarded as
democrats, for purposes of comparison.

The critics of the classical theory of democracy will also be

chosen with less regard for the specific questions they advance than
for their importance or representational qualities to this type of critical

empirical study. A large amount of attention will be focused upon the

Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee volume Voting: A Study of Opinion

 

Formation in a Presidential Campaign. 2 This attention will be specific

 

 

 

1Austin Ranney and Willmore Kendall, Democracy and the
American Party System (N. Y. : Harcourt Brace, 1954) P. 3.

2B. R. Berelson, Lazarsfeld & McPhee, Voting: A Study of
Opinion Formation in _a; Presidential Campaign (Chicago: Univ. of —
Chicago Press, 1953).

 

 

 

 

IHE§”_

4
so that we may explore some of the implications, problems and solutions
to these problems which a study of this type may encounter. This volume
is important in the development of the voting study type of research and
is also important because of the question which is raised in its conclud-
ing chapter: ”What does all this mean for the political theory of democ-
racy?”1 It is precisely this question which we shall explore. Another

volume re uirin examination is Schum eter's Ca italism, Socialism
q 8

 

 

and Democracy. 2 Schumpeter, an economist, systematically examines

 

the theory and assumptions of modern democracy. He also discusses

the reasons for the survival of the classical theory, which he considers

to be outmoded, and possible revisions to make that theory more ac-

ceptable. Schumpeter's work is worthy of attention in itself and also I
for its influence upon later work in this area. Major attention will be

focused on these two works although other critics will be mentioned in

order to explore aspects not presented in these works.

 

1Ibid., p. 305.
2Joseph A. Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism 8: Democracy
(N.Y.: Harper, 1942), Part IV.

 

 

IHES

 

CHAPTER I

OBJECTIONS TO THE CLASSICAL DEMOCRATIC THEORY

We may now turn to the critics' understanding of classical dem-
ocratic theory. Perhaps the most sweeping statement comes from
Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee:

It seems to us that the modern theory of democracy stands

in need of revision and not replacement by empirical sociology
. . . . The voter does have some principles, he does have
information and rationality, he does have interest -- but he
does not have them in the extreme, elaborate, comprehensive,
or detailed form in which they were uniformly recommended
by political phiIOSOphers. 1

Thus we see that the authors of Voting give a series of require-
ments for the individual citizen, which classical democratic philoso-
phers are alleged to have "uniformly recommended. " The citizens of
Elmira, however, do not fulfill these requirements to the degree re-
quired by the authors of Voting. This leads Berelson, Lazarsfeld and
McPhee to feel that the classical philosophers looked in the correct
direction but were too extreme and doctrinaire in their demands upon
the citizen. This statement leads us into a number of issues which
should be pursued further.

There is a problem involved in deciding how to pursue these

issues, for the authors of Voting never really say which specific theo-

 

1Berelson _e_t. El. Voting, p. 322

5

6

ists they are criticizing. They mention several; Mill, Bentham, Locke,
Burke, and Hobbes, but never in regard to a specific statement or re-
quirement. These philosophers differ greatly in their views of a good
society and are not merely part of a movement toward a unified theory
of democracy. The only person that is mentioned specifically as a
spokesman for one of the characteristics "that is theoretically required"
is Lord Lindsay. We are forced, therefore, to either examine the
views of Lord Lindsay, or choose a representative example of a dem-
ocratic philosopher and examine his views. We will choose the latter
alternative and examine the views of Jean Jacques Rousseau. There
are several reasons for choosing his writings. A major consideration
is that Schumpeter does specify that he is addressing himself to the
utilitarian theorists. In order to avoid redundancy, and also to gain a
broader view of the range of democratic theory, it is desirable to ex-
amine a natural right philosopher. Rousseau appears to be a good ex-
ample of such a philosopher since he is often alleged to have been the
most contemptuous of representative, as opposed to direct, democracy
as inadequately democratic. It would seem, therefore, that Rousseau
would be the most likely to make extreme demands upon his citizenry
since they would not be able to shrug off their responsibilities upon a
r ep re s entative .

Before proceeding further it might be well to examine the
meaning of the term democracy as it may be used in relation to Jean

Jacques Rousseau. In Book 1, Chapter I, of The Social Contract

 

Jr“

at

Q

 

Rousseau states his purpose in writing: "I mean to inquire if, in the
civil order, there can be any sure and legitimate rule of administra—
tion men being taken as they are and laws as they might be. "1
Rousseau then proceeds to demonstrate that all principles of sover-
eignty are illegitimate save that of the social contract which essen-
tially may be described in the following terms, "Each of us puts his
person and all his power in common under the supreme direction of
the general will, and, in our corporate capacity, we receive each
member as an indivisible part of the whole. "2 This agreement, or
social contract, thus creates a corporate body which is "called by its
members State when passive, Sovereign when active, and Power when
compared with others like itself. "3 Thus all the people are part of the
only legitimate sovereign Rousseau will acknowledge. It should be
emphasized that in calling Rousseau a democrat, one should be careful
to distinguish between what I will call democratic sovereignty, for lack
of a better term, 4 and a democratic form of government. Rousseau
tells us that any form of government, or administration, is legitimate

so long as democratic sovereignty exists. 5 One of the functions of the

 

1Jean Jacques Rousseau, G. D. H. Cole (trans.), The Social
Contract and Discourses (N.Y.: Everyman's Library, 1950), p. 3.

ZIbid. , p. 15.

ESE.

4Rousseau calls this a "Republic” but I believe that in present
usage this term might not convey the intended meaning.

5A3 I see it, this is also what is meant by democratic in the
American usage, e. g. Great Britain and the U. S.A. are both democra-
c1es.

 

 

 

 

8
of the legislator1 is to suggest the proper form of government to fit a.
particular people, environment, etc. As to the democratic form of
government, Rousseau says, "If we take the term in the strict sense,
there never has been a real democracy, and there never will be. "2
Thus we may argue that Rousseau was not really contemptuous of rep-

resentation. In fact, in Books III and IV of The Social Contract

 

Rousseau outlines a possible plan of representation and the elements
which should be considered in drawing up such a plan. He does the

same in regards to a specific case in his Considerations On the Govern-

 

ment if Poland. 3 Thus Rousseau is not contemptuous of representation

 

but does insist upon a particular type, or style, of representation.

This style of representation still places considerable demands upon the
electorate since they instruct their representatives, or as Rousseau
prefers, agents, upon all votes. Since policy decisions have not been
removed from the citizen's realm we may expect that the mere fact that
a form of representation is acceptable to Rousseau does not preclude

the possibility that he did, indeed, make too extreme and doctrinaire

 

1The role of the legislator is very important to this argument
but will be saved for later consideration.

2Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 65, By the strict sense
I interpret him to mean that all of the people govern day to day. The
government, as has been pointed out previously, must be distinguished
from the sovereign in the writings of Rousseau.

3Jean Jacques Rousseau, Frederick Watkins (trans. and ed. ),
Rousseau: Political Writing, (Edinburgh and New York: Nelson, 1953)
esp. Ch. II and XIII.

 

 

IHE§

 

 

9
demands upon the individual citizen. This question will be discussed
by turning to the particulars of the case.

We are told, in Voting, that, "Empirical research can help
clarify the standards and correct the empirical presuppositions of
normative theory. "1 These ”standards" and "empirical presupposi-
tions" are then examined. The requirements for the typical citizen
"set by our traditional normative theory" are listed as interest, dis-
cussion, motivation, knowledge, principle and rationality. We may
readily grant that Rousseau would expect some degree of some of the
above characteristics but he most certainly does not universally rec-
ommend them in an ”extreme, elaborate, comprehensive or detailed
form. " This will become apparent as we discuss the specifics.

If we examine the requirement of knowledge we see that
Rousseau speaks contemptuously of text-book authors for having "re-
moved those impediments which nature purposely laid in the way to the
Temple of the Muses, in order to guard its approach and try the powers
of those who might be tempted to seek knowledge. "2 The knowledge of
which Rousseau spoke was that of the Enlightenment and of sophistica-
tion. The above passage demonstrates Rousseau's view of the desira-
bility of having such knowledge widespread, but another quote may be

in order. Speaking of Sparta, Rousseau says:

 

1Berelson _e_t 11. , Voting, p. 306
2Rousseau, The Social Contract and the Discourses, p. 170.

 

 

10
Can it be forgotten that, in the very heart of Greece, there
arose a city as famous for the happy ignorance of its inhabi-
tants, as for the wisdom of its laws; a republic of demi-gods
rather than of men so greatly superior their virtues seemed to
those of mere humanity. ”1
Rousseau felt that only those who needed no teachers should be
able to seek real knowledge or enlightenment. He admonished for the
rest of mankind:
Let us, instead of envying them (true philosophers), en—
deavor to make, between them and us, that honorable distinc-
tion which was formerly seen to exist between two great
peoples, that the one knew how to speak, and the other how
to act, aright. Z
Rousseau obviously believed that knowledge of the arts,
sciences, and literature, or in other words enlightenment, would merely
corrupt the minds of common men. The common man could never
really understand what a genius was writing about and thinking that he
could was only dangerous. This danger arises from many quarters.
"Our minds have been corrupted in prOportion as the arts and sciences
have been improved."3 In other words, our natural morals and virtues
have been undermined. ”Again, what is more difficult, should we be
fortunate enough to discover it (knowledge), who among us will know how
to make right use of it?”4 It seems as though this is a pressing ques-

tion of our time of hydrogen and thermonuclear bombs. “Luxury is sel-

dom unattended by the arts and sciences; and they are always attended

 

1Ibid., p. 174.
zIbid.

3Ibid., p. 150.
4&1” p. 159.

 

11
by luxury" and further " . . . Can it be denied that rectitude of morals
is essential to the duration of empires, and that luxury is diametrically
opposed to such rectitude?"1 Taste is also seen as corrupted and be-
cause of this the artist is liable to lower himself to the tastes of his
age in order to be famous in his time. 2 Rousseau's arguments against
enlightenment are summed up in this statement; ”As the conveniences
of life increase, as the arts are brought to perfection, and luxury
spreads, true courage flags, the virtues disappear. "3 So far we have
been given a dismal picture of the effects of the arts and sciences on
mankind; a picture which requires us to consider its validity. At this
point it would seem to be a good question to ask: What should be taught
to children to avoid these dangers ? Rousseau answers, ”Let them be
taught what they are to practice when they come to be men; not what they
ought to forget. “4 The question is answered much more fully in the
E13113, however, the amplification provided in an accompanying footnote
describing the education of the ancient Persians is sufficient for this
paper. A boy was given physical education until the age of fourteen, then
he was turned over to four persons to further his education. "The first
instructed him in religion, the second taught him to adhere inviolably to
truth, the third to conquer his passions, and the fourth to be afraid of

nothing. All, I may add, taught him to be a good man: but not one taught

 

1Ibid., p. 161
ZIbid.. p. 163
3Ibid., p. 164
49151., p. 167

 

12

him to be learned. "1 The reason for this is "Men who are upright and
simple are difficult to deceive because of their simplicity; lures and
ingenious pretexts fail to impose upon them, and they are not subtle
enough to be dupes. "2 We can see that Rousseau's citizens would be
taught many things but not to be sophisticated or enlightened. They would
be kept as simple and as unspoiled as possible and the affairs of their
government would likewise be kept simple enough so that they could un-
derstand them. Thus we must agree that citizens are expected to have
knowledge of the issues confronting their government. However, we
have now asserted that the government must be confronted with simpler
issues to make this possible. The citizens of Elmira in 1948 were un-
doubtedly confronted by much more complicated issues than those en-
visioned by Rousseau for his ideal society. The question of what to do
about this is a crucial question to this argument and should be kept in
mind for later consideration.

I In Voting it is asserted that, "If there is one characteristic for
a democratic system that is theoretically required, it is the capacity
for and the practice of'discussion. "3 Rousseau argues explicitly against
discussion among citizens, "If when the people, being furnished with
adequate information, held its deliberations, the citizens had no com-

munication one with another, the grand total of the small differences

 

lIbid.
ZIbid. , p. 102
3Berelson3t a_L_l_., Voting, p. 307.

13
would always give the general will, and the decision would always be
good. ”1 This we may take as Rousseau's ideal condition in which there
would be no "partial society" -- interest group in all the ramifications
of the term -- intervening between the citizen and his own thoughts.
Rousseau does, however, provide for the less than perfect situation.
But if there are partial societies, it is best to have as many

as possible and to prevent them from being unequal, as was

done by Solon, Numa and Servius. These precautions are the

only ones that can guarantee that the general will shall always

be enlightened, and that the people shall in no way deceive

itself. 2

This idea is elaborated in Madison's Federalist IE). _l_(_).3 as

 

a justification for a large republic instead of the small, homogeneous
ones envisioned by earlier theorists. Rousseau's views on the conse-
quences of discussion and partial societies are worthy of extensive quo-
tation:

But when the social bond begins to be relaxed and the State
to grow weak, when particular interests begin to make them-
selves felt and the smaller societies to exercise an influence
over the larger, the common interest changes and finds oppo-
nents: opinion is no longer unanimous; the general will ceases I
to be the will of all; contradictory views and debates arise; and
the best advice is not taken without question.

Finally, when the State, on the eve of ruin, maintains
only a vain illusory, and formal existence, when in every
heart the social bond is broken, and the meanest interest
brazenly lays hold of the sacred name of 'public good, ' the
general will becomes mute: all men, guided by secret motives,
no more give their views as citizens than if the State had never

 

1Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 27.

ZIbid.. pp. 27-28.

37.51% Madison, The Federalist No. 10, (New York: The
Modern Library, 1937) pp. 53-62. —

 

 

14

been, and iniquitous decrees directed solely to private inter-
est get passed under the name of laws. 1

It is rather difficult to distinguish between interest and motiva-
tion as used in Voting. Interest is understood to be "arguing politics,
donating money, voting" etc. or in other words actions by the individual.
Motivation seems to mean the internal drive to exhibit interest. In
view of this understanding of these terms we will discuss them as facets
of the same thing. Rousseau states, "The better the constitution of a
State is, the more do public affairs encroach on private in the minds of
the citizens. "2 On this point, or pair of points, Rousseau agrees with
the authors of Voting that interest and motivation are essential to his
philosophy of a social contract society -- a society with democratic sover-
eignty. "As soon as public service ceases to be the chief business of
the citizens and they would rather serve with their money than with their
persons, the State is not far from its fall. "3 "As soon as any man says
of the affairs of the State, 'What does it matter to me?‘ the State may
be given up for lost. "4 It is not hard to see that Rousseau considered
this point to be critical to the existence of a State. The authors of
Voting, while pointing out that democratic theorists have demanded this
quality, do not demand this quality in their revision of classical demo-

cratic theory —- as we shall see at a later point. The question of which

 

1Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 103.
Zrbid., p. 93

32.29

4929-, p. 94

 

15
view is the correct one will point up an irresolvable difference between
the two approaches which is very important to our study.

Since Rousseau refers to so many of the above points as leading
to the fall of the State, it seems important to cover his ideas on that
subject next. "If Sparta and Rome perished, what State can hope to
endure forever? "1 The government is seen as constantly trying to gain
supremacy over the Sovereign because, "the particular will acts con-
stantly in opposition to the general will. "2 Rousseau said that, ”there
are two general causes by which government degenerates: i. e. when
it undergoes contraction (democracy to aristocracy to monarchy), or
when the State is dissolved. "3 The State is dissolved either by the
government usurping the Sovereign power or when the several members
of the government usurp the power which should belong to the govern-
ment as a whole. The body politic is seen organically, by Rousseau,
and as such begins to die as soon as it is born. The best possible con-
stitution, however, can prolong the life of the body politic by starting it
off robust and healthy. 4 The way the Sovereign can best postpone these
usurpations, according to Rousseau, is by having periodic assemblies,
which should need no formal summoning, and during which the govern-

ment has no power. The government has no power since it is merely a

 

 

 

1Ibid., p. 87.
ZIbid., p. 84.
3Ibid., p. 85.
4Ibid. , p. 84. The best possible standards for a constitution

are, of course, what Rousseau attempts to lay out in The Social Contract
and, in regards to a specific case, in the Considerations (311 the Govern-

 

 

ment 9f Poland.

 

 

l6
steward of the Sovereign and, at this time, the Sovereign chooses to
exercise its own rights. At these assemblies the several members of
the Sovereign or, in other words, the citizens, vote on two questions.
The first is: 'Does it please the Sovereign to preserve the
present form of government?I
The second is: 'Does it please the people to have its ad—
ministration in the hands of those who are actually in charge
of it? '1
We are told, in Voting, that "the democratic citizen is supposed
to cast his vote on the basis of principle . . . with reference to stand-
ards not only of his own interest but of the common good as well. This
requirement . . . becomes an impossible demand on the democratic
electorate. ”2 I assert that Rousseau held a view of man as being essen-
tially a self-centered animal and initially interested mainly in his own
self-preservation. 3 Rousseau does temper this view with the idea of
compassion. This natural feeling may be stated in the form of a maxim,
"Do good to yourself with as little evil as possible to others. "4 It should
be pointed out that in Rousseau's view this natural feeling is to a large
extent corrupted by civilization. 5 Rousseau attempts to replace this

feeling of compassion with a feeling of patriotism once man becomes a

political animal. It seems Rousseau must be thinking of some other sort

 

lIbid. , p. 101

zBerelson et al. , Voting pp. 308-309

31 further a—s SErt that this view is common to most theorists
since Machiavelli, including those ”from Mill to Locke, " and also that
this view, rightly or wrongly held, is a basis of modern social science
including psychology.

4Rousseau, The Social Contract and 1E Discourses, "Discourse
on the Origin of Inequality, " p. 226

5E. , p. 227

 

 

17
of guiding force, than that of high principle, being involved when he pos-
tulates a common interest, or general will. Perhaps if we now turn to
the way Rousseau expects the citizen to cast his vote, we may see what
he had in mind.

There is often a great deal of difference between the will of

all and the general will; the latter considers only the common
interest, while the former takes private interest into account,
and is no more than a sum of particuler wills: but take away
from these same wills the pluses and minuses which cancel one
another, and the general will remains as the sum of the differ-
ences."1

A further amplification of this is given in the accompanying
footnote, " . . . the agreement of all interests is found by the opposi-
tion to that of each. If there were no different interests, the common
interest would be barely felt, and as it would encounter no obstacle; all
would go of its own accord and politics would cease to be an art. "

We now turn to a discussion of rationality and the degree to
which Rousseau expected this quality to be exhibited. If the authors of
Voting mean by rationality the ability to order one's thoughts towards a
specific goal, whether or not we have adequate information, perception,
etc. , and also whether or not our final ordering is, in fact, the best
possible, then I doubt whether they could prove that the voters of Elmira
acted irrationally in 1948. An excellent example of what seems, at

first glance, to be irrational behavior but which, on closer examination,

does not seem so is provided by the study of Ethnic and Party Affilia-

 

 

11bid., p. 26

 

 

 

 

l8

tions if Candidates a_s Determinants gf Voting by Leon J. Kamin. He

 

 

 

found that, within his sample, the respondents tended to reject the
fictitious candidate's name with ethnic connotations opposite of their
own, if party identification was absent. If party identification was pres-
ent, the respondents tended to be guided by that consideration. ”Psy-
chologically, these data are reminiscent of experimental studies of per-
ception; the importance of minimal, irrelevant cues is exaggerated when
the normally determining cues are deliberately excluded. "1 These
minimal and largely irrelevant cues are nevertheless cues. In the ab-
sence of any other criteria for choice; it seems that choosing the candi-
date with a name of the same ethnic connotation as one's own is the most
rational way possible to choose a candidate whose views are likely to
approximate one's own views. If some higher level of thought process
is meant by rational behavior then we risk redundancy in going further,
in view of what has already been said in the section on knowledge. We
have already seen that knowledge of the arts, sciences and literature

is viewed as corrupting or, in Rousseau's terms, "garlands of flowers
over the chains which weigh them (men) down. " What Rousseau expects
common men to have (in place of a high degree of reason which they will
never possess, but only deceive themselves into thinking that they do

have) is natural goodness, compassion, patriotism and love of liberty.

 

1Leon J. Kamin, Ethnic and Party Affiliations o_f Candidates
as Determinants o_f Voting reprinted from The Canadian Journal o_f
Psycholog , Vol. —12 (1958) in S. Sidney Ulmer (ed. ), Introductory
Readings i_r_1 Political Behavior (Chicago: Rand- -McNally & Company,
1961) p. 72.

 

 

 

 

 

 

19
A discussion of the role of the legislator is relevant at this
point. ”How can a blind multitude, which often does not know what it
wills, because it rarely knows what is good for it, carry out for itself
so great and difficult an enterprise as a system of legislation?"1 A
statement such as this seems to obviously point up Rousseau's view of
the masses' capacity for a high level of reason, but there is more.
”The legislator is the engineer who invents the machine. " The legisla-
tor takes "away from man his own resources and gives him instead new
ones alien to him, and incapable of being made use of without the help of
other men. "2 There is a difficulty, however, which must be faced. The
legislator cannot communicate his ideas to the "common herd” since
they will never understand him; Instead,
The fathers of nations have recourse to divine interventions
and credit the gods with their own wisdom, in order that the
peoples, submitting to the laws of the State as to those of nature,
and recognizing the same power in the formation of the city as
in that of man, might obey freely, and bear with docility the yoke
of public happiness. 3
Now any man could resort to this trickery, which Rousseau calls
civil religion, but only a man with superior intelligence could found last-

ing institutions. ”Idle tricks form a passing tie: only wisdom can make

it lasting. "4

 

1Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 37.

Zlbid. , p. 38

3_l:b_i_d.. Pp. 40-41

4Reasoning this way, and excluding ancient examples, the legis-
lators of the United States learned their lessons better than the legisla-
tors of the French Revolution or of Nazi Germany learned theirs. Of
course, the standards laid out by the philosopher would be of primary
importance although the legislators would have to be good students of the
philosophers according to this View.

 

 

20
The authors of Eating state, "If the democratic system depend-
ed solely on the qualifications of the individual voter, then it seems re-
markable that democracies have survived through the centuries . .
Where the rational citizen seems to abdicate, nevertheless, angels seem
to tread. ”1 This statement runs into immediate difficulty as Walter

Berns points out in his essay on the Voting Studies. "Anyone with even

 

a cursory acquaintance with history is forced to wonder what democra-
cies they have in mind in this statement. Democracies have come into
being for centuries, but how many of them have survived for centuries ? "2
The latter part of the statement points once more to the role of the leg-
islator since in Rousseau's terms these "angels" are the legislators.
In fact, he plainly says this in the chapter entitled ”The Legislator”:
"It would take gods to give men laws. "3

The problem of not identifying the specific theorists to which
Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee are addressing themselves shows up
at this point. We could continue choosing democratic phiIOSOphers and
examining their works against the specifics which they are alleged to re-
quire in an extreme, elaborate, comprehensive and detailed form. This
would seem rather pointless since all of the candidates with which I am
familiar would differ in one or another particular from the supposedly

uniform pattern of democratic theorists. There is one quote which seems

 

1Berelson e_t 611., Voting, p. 314
2Storing (ed.), _o_p. £13., p. 46 n.
3Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 27

 

 

21

to be very revealing on this question.
Out of all this literature of political observation and analy-

sis, which is relatively new, ' says Max Beloff, ' there has

come to exist a picture in our minds of the political scene

which differs from that familiar to us from the classical texts

of democratic politics. 1

It seems reasonable to suspect that very often we confuse the

difference between phiIOSOphers, or ”normative theorists, " and textbook
authors or publicists. The latter, whether or not they are capable of
more profound thoughts, must keep their audience in mind and slur over
complexities and subtle thoughts in favor of catch phrases and slogans.
It also seems that we must keep in mind that there is at least a qualita-
tive difference between "great” philosophers and mediocre or poor
ideologists, if not also a difference in kind. This problem, of not identi-
fying the specific philosophers to which the last chapter of Voting is
addressed, does not really affect this particular paper to a great degree
because of the statement concerning the qualities of a citizen which
"were uniformly recommended by political philosophers. " It seems that
our discussion so far clearly demonstrates the divergence between
Rousseau's views and those attributed to democratic theorists, as a
whole, in Voting.

We may now turn to a discussion of the relevant section of

 

Joseph A. Schumpeter's book, Capitalism, Socialism, aid Democracy.

 

Schumpeter begins his discussion of classical democratic theory with a

 

1Berelson _eial. , Voting, p. 307.

22

definition: "The democratic method is that institutional arrangement for
arriving at political decisions which realize the common good by making
the people itself decide issues through the election of individuals who are
to assemble in order to carry out its will. ”1 After elaborating upon his
definition of the eighteenth-century philOSOphy of democracy, Schumpeter
tells us that if we could accept all the assumptions of this theory then
democracy would be the best possible arrangement for the polity.
Schumpeter goes on to say: "It is no less obvious, however, that these
assumptions are so many statements of fact every one of which would
have to be proved if we are to arrive at that conclusion. And it is so
much easier to disprove them. "2

Schumpeter tells us that, ”there is no such thing as a uniquely
determined common good that all people could agree on or be made to
agree on by the force of rational argument. "3 This occurs since the
common good is bound to mean different things to different individuals
and groups. The reason that this is so is alleged to be that questions of
principle ”cannot be reconciled by rational argument because ultimate
values . . . are beyond the range of mere logic. "4 Utilitarian thought
does seem to have a problem meeting questions involving a conflict of
the ultimate values of the participants in a rational manner. This prob-

lem is not unique to utilitarian philosophy, however, since there has yet

 

1Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, p. 250.
2Ibid., p. 251

3Ibid.

4Ibid.

 

 

 

23
to be devised a system for resolving questions of ultimate value which
is as widely accepted among scholars as is scientific method for resolv-
ing questions of fact. Methods of resolving questions of ultimate value
have tended to involve the use of sanctions eventually to crush one or
the other faction. If we accept this as inevitable there is no reason,
however, why we should entirely forsake the attempt at rational action,
for the great majority of issues are not questions of principle. There
is another possibility also which is sometimes used on questions of
principle and that is to exclude the question from political consideration,
as in the case of the Bill of Rights of the United States Constitution or
in the case of conscientious objectors. This, of course, is often a vic-
tory, or at least a partial one, for one of the factions, however, it is
more than that also. It is an agreement not to let a particular question
of principle disrupt the political system and end all political discourse.
Such agreements, either tacit or explicit, are common to all relatively
stable political systems and the willingness to make such agreements
is a major factor in providing that stability. It is interesting to note that
James Mill in his argument against representation by clubs said, ”It is
not included in the idea of this union for the pursuit of a common interest,
that the clubs or sets of persons appropriated to the business of repre-

sentation should totally harmonize. "1 Mill argued that despite these

 

1James Mill, Edwin A. Burtt (ed. ), The English Philosophers
from Bacon t_o Mill. (N. Y. : The Modern Library, 1939); p. 882.

 

 

24
disputes the individuals involved would, if experience could be us ed as
a guide, maintain a view of what was in their common interest and not
become so divided on other matters that they could not gain the benefits
of their mutual association. Schumpeter tells us that even if the cen—
tral values were agreed upon, individual issues would be fought. It is
easy to see the logic of such a statement by the use of the example
Schumpeter provides: Most people value good health, yet violent dis-
putes have raged over the desirability of universal vaccination. We
cannot dispute that there will always be arguments over the proper
means as well as ends, however we may wish to question whether many
democratic philosophers would have denied the inevitability of such ar-
guments. There have been few philosophers, and even fewer demo-
cratic philosophers, who dreamt of the day when disputes or the art of
politics would disappear from the political scene. When Schumpeter
says, "the utilitarian fathers of democratic doctrine failed to see the full
importance of this simply because none of them seriously considered any
substantial change in the economic framework and the habits of bour-
geois society,"1 we may partially agree. But the statement fits James
Mill and Jeremy Bentham with greater ease than it will fit the revision,
or restatement, of utilitarian principles which John Stuart Mill under-
took. Schumpeter tells us that, ”this creed does not consist simply in

worshiping the will of the people as such but rests on certain assump-

 

ISchumpeter, 3p. <_:_i_:c. p. 252.

25

tions about the "natural" object (the common good) of that will which
object is sanctioned by utilitarian reason. "1 This statement is entirely
true but it does deserve some elaboration. One of the basic assump-
tions of utilitarian thought is that a person, or group of persons, will
act in a manner which is perceived to be in its interest. It follows
from this assumption, "that unless the representative body are chosen
by a portion of the community, the interest of which cannot be made to
differ from that community, the interest of the community will infallibly
be sacrificed to the interest of the rulers. "2 It also follows from this
assumption that if the interest of the representative body cannot be
made to differ from the interest of the rest of the community then what
the representative body strives for will, at least, be perceived to be
identical with the interest of the community. This raises two further
questions: Is the interest of the representative body, in fact, not sepa-
rate from the interest of the community, and is the perception of the
representative body as to its own interest accurate? Each of these
questions will be discussed at a later point.

We must agree when Schumpeter tells us that, "If we are to
argue that the will of the citizens per se is a political factor entitled

to respect, it must first exist. "3 Agreeing to this, however, does not

 

llbid.
ZMill, _o_p. _c_i_t., p. 884.
3Schumpeter, fl): gi_t., p. 253

26

force us to accept the statement that

from that definite will and from these ascertained facts a clear

and prompt conclusion as to particular issues would have to be

derived according to the rules of logical inference -- with so

high a degree of general efficiency moreover that one man's

Opinion could be held, without glaring absurdity, to be roughly

as good as every other man's. 1
No one worthy of being called a philosopher would insist upon such con-
ditions for the individual citizens excepting perhaps in his wildest
dreams of a super utopia. Schumpeter at this point completely disre-
gards the idea of representation, which he had acknowledged in his
definition of the eighteenth-century philosophy of democracy. It is ab-
surd to demand that the individual citizen have all the facts on all of the
issues for the simple reason that there are too many issues and too
many facts for that to be even physically a possibility. Even within a
legislature, whose members are assumed to devote great amounts of
time and effort to political issues, it is necessary for a division of
labor to be made so that the large volume of business may be processed.
Moreover, even in a political community made up entirely of geniuses,
a division of labor would still be necessary so that special responsibility
for manageable portions of public policy questions could be assigned.
If we add to such a demand for all encompassing knowledge, a further
demand that a clear and prompt conclusion be reached according to the
rules of logical inference, clearly we are then moving into a never

never land unless we are speaking of a very simple, small homogeneous

society. Hume said, "If by democracy is meant the direct government

 

1Ibid., p. 254.

27

of the people by the peOple, then a democratic regime is possible only
in a town or in a territory of small extent. "1 In that latter case per-
haps Schumpeter's demands would be within the realm of possibility,
yet it is clearly difficult to find an example which would fit that case.
This point will be returned to in the section on the logic of science.
It would also seem that we might wish to take issue with any demand
that one man's opinion should be able to be held roughly as good as
every other man's on the basis that exact equality is not the reason be-
hind a demand for equal consideration for each man's opinion. It is
fairly obvious, and democratic philosophers have acknowledged this,
that there are differences in ability among men. Since Schumpeter is
not speaking of natural right philosophers we will not discuss their
arguments in favor of political equality. When we discuss utilitarian
democratic theory, we find that John Stuart Mill did not believe in ex-
act political equality for all persons. We further find that James
Mill's arguments revolve around the assumption, already mentioned,
that in order to have the community's interest guarded it is necessary
to keep the representative's interest equal to the community's interest
and that, if this is not done, there will be exploitation of that portion
of the community not represented.

In his discussion of human nature in politics, Schumpeter men-

tions that Gustave Le Bon's work on the psychology of crowds "dealt a

 

lElie Halevy, The Growth 9? philosophical Radicalism
(London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1952), p. 122.

 

 

28
serious blow to the picture of man's nature which underlies the classi-
cal doctrine of democracy and democratic folklore about revolutions. "1
Le Bon maintained that it is relatively easy to whip a group into a state
of frenzy in which rational argument is not possible. This occurance
is, of course, contrary to the hopes of democrats, but we may wonder
if an entire population may be made irrational, how could some mem-
bers of that population avoid the same consequences. The problem
here is that it would seem foolish to abandon any attempt at rationality
for the reason that rationality is difficult to achieve or may, in some
cases, not be possible. Schumpeter also tells us that economists have
found that the common man isn't as definite and his actions aren't as
rational and prompt as previously had been thought. Further, his ac-
tions are often heavily influenced by advertising, often to the point that
his wants are dictated. Schumpeter wonders if the behavior of common
men in a field with relatively definite individual volitions, such as the
market place, is so irrational, "why, when it comes to political deci-
sions, we should worship at their shrine, still 1ess why we should feel
bound to count each of them for one and none for more than one. "2 The
answer to this question is best supplied by Schumpeter's earlier state-
ment, "This creed does not consist simply in worshiping the will of the

people as such but rests on certain assumptions about the 'natural'

 

1Schumpeter, o_p. o_it., p. 257.
2Ibid., p. 259.

29
object of that will which object is sanctioned by utilitarian reason. "1
We are given two examples in which the above considerations are to
some extent overridden; one is in local affairs although many people
don't care about these either, and the other is in national issues which
directly effect the individual. This latter case is alleged by Schumpeter
to hurt the classical doctrine on the grounds that it is mere self-interest,
however we have seen that both Jean Jacques Rousseau and James Mill
expected just such selfish interests to enter into the political scene
and, in fact, be an important factor in shaping the general will. Few
modern democratic philosophers would dissent from the maxim:
Private Vice, Public Good.
Normally, the great political questions take their place in

the psychic economy of the typical citizen with those leisure-

hour interests that have not attained the rank of hobbies, and

with the subjects of irresponsible conversation. 2

If we assume that the above quotation is both fair and accurate,

we are then faced with an obvious problem: What shall we do about this
circumstance? Schumpeter, along with the authors of Voting, feels
that the classical democratic doctrine should be revised to correspond
to fact. Others, including the democratic philosophers, would not have
many disagreements with the revisionists about the observable present

facts, they would differ over whether present behavior is the best possible

behavior of the common man. Their arguments would stress that ob-

 

1Ibid., p. 252.
2Schumpeter, o_p. (1113., p. 261

3O
servation of present behavior does not demonstrate the impossibility
or impracticality of democratic reform, only its desirability. The
discussion of the solution to this problem will be postponed to a later
point, although that solution is vital to this paper.

We have been told that the typical citizen yields to extra-
rational or irrational prejudice and impulse, and that because people's
logic is poor, groups fashion and even create the will of the people.

In fact, says Schumpeter, "The will of the people is the product and
not the motive power of the political process. " If we accept the as-
sumption that whenever possible people attempt to act in their own
best interest, we are faced with some interesting possibilities. We
may remove political power from the irrational masses and grant it to
a group of true aristocrats, in the classical sense, who will rule, ra-
tionally, in their own best interests at the expense of the interests of
the rest of the population. Our other possibility is to give political
power to those irrational masses and fall victim to their mistakes.
This latter possibility has a redeeming factor, "They who act ill from
mistake, will often act well -- sometimes even by accident, and in
every case in which they are enabled to understand their interest, by
design. "1 James Mill had a further reason for supporting this alter-
native since "the evils which arise from mistake are not incurable. "

His cure for this problem is to spread knowledge in the hopes of reduc-

 

1Mi11, James, _op. _c_it., p. 885.

31
ing the number of mistakes. Mill, however, would support democracy
even if a substantial number of mistakes would always occur since its
citizens are more likely to act with regard to the common good --
since that is their interest -- than the members of a special class are
to do so -- since it is to their interest to exploit the other members of
the society.

We have seen in discussing Schumpeter's objections to the
classical democratic theory that many of the objections of the authors
of Voting also seem to fit the model of utilitarian democracy better
than they did the model Rousseau provided of natural right democracy.
If the utilitarian model is what Berelson et a1 had in mind, perhaps it
would be well to examine the question of whether utilitarian rationalism
was really the theoretical basis for the classical doctrine, as alleged
by Schumpeter. 1 Henry Mayo regards democracy as a ”political system
with a theory to explain and justify it. "2 If we take this view it is far
easier to accept utilitarian rationalism as the basis of the classical
doctrine since we do not need to concern ourselves with the historical
ordering of events or with the possible influences a theory had upon
practice. However, there is more than one possible meaning to the
word theory. If we speak of normative political theory, or political

philosophy, we are speaking of a theory which to some extent attempts

 

lSchumpeter, _c_>p_. c_it., p. 265.
2Henry B. Mayo, _A_n Introduction t__o Democratic Theory (N. Y. :
Oxford University Press, 1960).

 

 

32
to explain things as they are but also attempts to build from that point
to a recommendation as to the way things should be. As any reader of
the Declaration of Independence knows, the founding fathers of the United
States were influenced to a very large extent by natural right phi1080phy.
We may also be certain that they, or at least some of them, were in-
fluenced by utilitarian philosophy since "with Paine the democratic
philosophy returns to . . . the philosophy of utility. "1 The influence
of utilitarian philOSOphy may reasonably be described as less than that
of the influence of natural right philosophy, however. We must be
careful to remember that,
The philosophy of utility is not essentially a liberal philo-
s0phy; in his youth Bentham was a Tory . . . . He took the
part of the King against Wilkes and also against the revolted
Americans, dissatisfied with the reasons by which the insur-
gents justified their disobedience. 2
If Bentham himself did not consider the United States a utili-
tarian based society then we might wonder if proving that the United
States does not live up to utilitarian principles proves anything one way
or the other about those utilitarian principles. We may also wonder
why the utilitarian model was chosen for comparison.
Thus far we have seen that those qualities which "were uni-

formly recommended by political philosophers" in an extreme, elaborate,

comprehensive, or detailed form were not so recommended by Jean

 

lHalevy, 22. c_i_’_c_., p. 190.
Zlbid., p. 144.

33
Jacques Rousseau. We have also been led to suspect that the same holds
true for the utilitarian democratic theorists. We have seen that except-
ing a special casel all noteworthy democratic political philosophy has
emphasized the role of representative government and has not concerned
mere blind worship of a majority's decision. Perhaps we should dis-
cuss some reasons why this is so. A democrat believes as he does be-
cause of multiple considerations, i. e. a belief in popular sovereignty
and a belief in political equality. There has been no ordering of these
considerations and there is no logical basis for such an ordering. If
we did so worship the decisions of a majority, there would have to be
an ultimate justification for such worship. If we choose equality as the
ultimate justification, it would be absurd to allow majority opinion to
destroy equality. One may legitimately argue that these arguments
against unfettered majority rule depend upon our definition of democracy.
While this is undoubtedly true, it is also true that no democratic philo-
sopher has ever urged a definition of democracy which values numerical
majority rule for its own sake. Such majority rule has been valued for
its contributions toward some other higher value such as equality. Thus
we can see that it is the very nature of democracy, as it has been com-
monly enunciated by the democratic theorists, that there must be re-
straints upon majority rule. If there were not such restraints, we would

become involved in an absurdity. A particular majority might, using

 

1The special case is that of a small homogeneous and simple
society.

34

the majority principle, adOpt legislation which would destroy the ma-
jority basis for all future states. This act would clearly be against the
democratic principle which seeks to give political power to all majori-
ties, not merely to a particular majority. Therefore, a particular
majority would clearly violate the principle of majority rule, and also
of democracy, if it destroyed the basis for majority rule. We have
seen that it is difficult to trace the theory presented in Voting to a par-
ticular theorist. We have also seen that although the theory presented

in Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy may be traced to utilitarian

 

democratic theory, the major utilitarian philosophers would have points
of divergence from Schumpeter's narrative. There has been some sug-
gestion of the form of the probable rebuttal argument of the classicists.
This rebuttal argument, while not presented systematically in this
paper, has at least demonstrated that the classicists were aware of
some of the possible criticisms of their theories and has suggested the
basic trend of their answers.

The rebuttal argument raises an interesting point. It would
seem that many a reader of these two volumes would be struck by the
new information which a scientific study of politics has brought forth
and which, in turn, has inspired these criticisms. The authors of
Voting seem to be under this impression when they state, "Perhaps the
main impact of realistic research on contemporary politics has been

to temper some of the requirements set by our traditional normative

35
theory for the typical citizen. "1 Yet there has almost always been a
critical school of thought on the question of the practicality of democracy.
These issues have indeed been argued across the centuries. If we turn
to the Victorian era we will find a time rich with critics of democracy,
Thomas Carlyle, John Ruskin, Matthew Arnold, James Fitzjames
Stephen, and Henry Maine to mention a few. If we examine the recorded
thoughts of these men we will be struck by their similarity with those of
the modern critics of the theory of democracy. James Fitzjames
Stephen systematically criticized the work of John Stuart Mill and did
so in a devasting fashion without the benefits of modern research. He
believed that the masses of men were a collective mediocrity and denied
that Mill's philosophy would improve them -- instead his philosophy was
seen as far more likely to undermine the foundations of society. James
Fitzjames Stephen further dissents from Mill's belief in absolute free-
dom of Opinion. He believed that there should be curbs upon this free-
dom for the good of society and cites the suppression of Catholic and
Puritan speech by Henry VIII so that civil war could be avoided as sup-
port for his contention. Stephen felt, "the notorious result of freedom
of thought and discussion is to produce general skepticism on many sub-
jects in the vast majority of minds. "2 Any law attempting to create

equality is seen as weakening the individual rather than making him

 

1Berelson e1: :11. , op. cit. , p. 306.
ZBenjamin Lippincott, Victorian Critics o_f Democracy
(Minn., 1938), p. 147.

 

 

36
more individualistic since such laws must restrict the number of pos-
sible choices available to an individual. He sees an essential paradox
to democratic theory since " . . . if the largest possible measure of
liberty is accorded to all human beings the result will not be equality
but inequality. "1 Stephen accepts much of utilitarian thought, especial-
ly Bentham's, but rejects the connection of that thought with democratic
thought. He explains that from the utilitarian point of view equality has
no connection with justice except if we use equality to mean only im-
partiality which is a utilitarian principle of justice. He believes that
the strongest man always rules even under a democracy since equality,
as practiced in democracies, has nothing to do with democracy. All
that is accomplished by universal suffrage is a minor change in the
ground rules of politics for it simply means, according to Stephen, that
the man who sweeps up the most votes -- rules, and he is still the
strongest. Stephen's general view of the value of self-government is
shown in the statement that it "not infrequently means the right to mis-
govern your neighbors without being accountable for it to anyone wiser
than yourself. "2 Henry Maine felt that the common determination of
the multitude is a chimerical assumption. He further felt that democ-
racy was the tyranny of ignorance since men do not know their own best

interest. William Lecky also saw many of the same things that were

 

llbid., p. 151.
21‘bid.. p. 157

 

37
pointed out in Voting. "Great uniform masses of ignorant and influenced
voters threaten to swamp the varieties of genuine opinion. "1 He goes on
to say, "A man will vote blue or yellow as his father did before him. "
Thus we see these criticisms of democratic theory are not new. It should
be mentioned that these Victorian critics of democracy have to face the
same utilitarian criticism that we mentioned earlier. Is it better to be
ruled by rulers with an interest in exploitation of the majority of inhabi-
tants, or is it better to be ruled by those whose interest it is to rule in

the interests of the majority, but who often err and do not do so?

 

1Ibid., p. 220.

—m _-.aj

 

CHAPTER II

SOME SUGGESTED REVISIONS OF
CLASSICAL DEMOCRATIC THEORY
In the preceding chapter we have attempted to compare the

classical democratic theorist's views with those attributed to them by
two of the more important recent critics of those views. We will now
attempt to examine the revised theory of democracy which is offered
by these critics on the basis of their logical criticisms of the older
theories and also on the basis of recent research findings pertaining to
those older theories.

The authors of Voting state their intentions on page 313;

For political democracy to survive, other features are re-
quired: the intensity of conflict must be limited, the rate of
change must be restrained, stability in the social and economic
structure must be maintained, a pluralistic social organization
must exist, and a basic consensus must bind together the con-
tending parties . . . . Such features have not been carefully
considered by political phi1080phers, and it is on these broader
properties of the democratic political system that more reflec-
tion and study by political theory is called for.

They then turn to these "most important requirements" and

attempt to show that, "a voting population that is not homogeneous, but

heterogeneous in its political qualities is required. "1

 

lMadison in The Federalist No. 10, op. cit. also argued for
a heterogeneous voting population. Given the "melting pot" reputation
of the United States, as well as this early advice from Madison, it is
not too surprising that this study revealed a heterogeneous electorate.

38

 

39
The first pair of qualities to be examined are involvement and
indifference. The authors of Voting assert, "Extreme interest goes
with extreme partisanship and might culminate in rigid fanaticism that
could destroy democratic processes if generalized throughout the com-
munity. "1 We have already seen, in the section on motivation and inter-
est, that Rousseau would disagree with this statement. 2 Rousseau would

further discuss the problem, along with the example of "splinter parties

'I'

of the left, " in terms of the problem of "partial societies" within the

main society. In speaking of factions Rousseau says,

.a‘

The will of each of these associations becomes general in
relation to its members, while it remains particular in rela-
tion to the State: it may be said there are no longer as many
votes as there are men, but only as many as there are asso-
ciations. 3

 

T" _..,._ ..

He goes on to speak of the situation which prevails when one of
the factions dominates the others, "There is no longer a general will,
and the opinion that prevails is purely particular. "4 Another quote from
Votin is interesting, "Low interest provides maneuvering room for
political shifts necessary for a complex society in a period of rapid

change. "5 At this point we may see that Rousseau did not agree that

 

1Berelson et agl. , Voting, p. 314

2Above p. 1—4.

3Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 27.

4Ibid. This interpretation is born out by the footnote of the
same page: "In fact, " says Machiavelli, "there are some divisions
that are harmful to aRepublic and some that are advantageous. Those
which stir up sects and parties are harmful; those which are attended
by neither are advantageous. Since, then, the founder of a Republic
cannot help enimities arising, he ought at least to prevent them from
growing into sects. " (History of Florence, Book VIII).

5Berelson e_t a_._l. , Voting, p. 314.

 

40
this was what low interest provided, 1 although we shall postpone elabora-
tion upon this point.

The next discussion covered in flag is that of stability and
flexibility. Rousseau would agree that stability is necessary for a poli-
tical system and would also agree that, "Political stability is based upon
social stability. "2 He would, as I interpret him, believe that both are
of positive value to the social contract society. Social stability, how-
ever, would result from few, if any, differences3 between the amounts I“
of property individual men would possess. As I read Rousseau, there
would be few men who were really different from the masses of men in

his ideal society. The first major level above the masses would be that

 

of the magistrates, the education of which is covered in the E_rr_1;1l_e. A
higher level, but one occupied by a very small number of men, would be
that of the legislators, the founders of nations. The top level which con—
tains the teachers of the legislators would contain only those of celestial
intelligence. These geniuses would not be part of the society but would
observe the happenings about them and ponder the great questions of man-
kind which are far above ordinary men's understanding. 4 The second

part of this pair of values, flexibility, would not be a particularly

 

1Berelson e_:c a_l. Voting, p.14

2See above, p. 315

3Marxists read chapter IX of Book I of The Social Contract and
the Second Part of the Discourse on _t___he Origin_ of Inequality as supports
for their theory. I do not believe that this is a correct interpretation.

4Rousseau, The Social Contract, Book I, Chapter VII and the
Discourse on the Arts and Sciences, esp. pp. 172—174.

 

 

41
esteemed value to Rousseau. The whole of the Discourse o_r_1 1113 Arts

and Sciences applies to this point. The "Dedication to the Republic of

 

Geneva" also carefully considers this,

. . . the promulgation of (laws) be attended with so much

solemnity, that before the constitution could be upset by

them, there might be time enough for all to be convinced,

that it is above all the great antiquity of the laws which

makes them sacred and venerable, that men soon learn to

despise laws which they see daily altered, and that States,

by accustoming themselves to neglect their ancient customs

under the pretext of improvement, often introduce greater

evils than those they endeavor to remove. 1

The authors of Voting note, "Curiously, the voters least ad-
mirable when measured against individual requirements contribute most
when measured against the aggregate requirement for flexibility. "2 We
may suggest that this curious phenomenom is explained by the fact that
the "aggregate requirement for flexibility" is not sound, in Rousseau's
terms, and is instead corrupting and dangerous to the society.
Regarding progress and conservation Voting says, "The heter-

ogeneous electorate in itself provides a balance between liberalism and
conservatism; and so does the sequence of political events from periods
of drifting change to abrupt rallies back to the loyalties of earlier years.

Rousseau, as has been demonstrated, did not regard "progress" as a

ood. He does, however, a ree with man ”liberal" ositions on
g 8 Y P

 

lRousseau, Discourse o_1_1 t___heO Origin_ of Inequality, p. 180.
The "conservatism" of this "radical" democrat could only be explained
by a complete exposition of his views, which is beyond the intended
scope of this study.

2Berelson, e_t a_1., Voting, p. 316.

3_I_b__id. , p. 318

H3

42

political issues. 1 Rousseau goes so far as to say that within a small,
homogeneous, social contract society, "the sovereign power need give
no guarantee to its subjects, because it is impossible for the body to
wish to hurt all members. We shall also see later that it cannot hurt
any in particular. "2

On the point of consensus and cleavage we find again almost
total disagreement between Rousseau and the authors of Voting.
Berelson, Lazarsfeld, and McPhee say, "there are required social con-
sensus and cleavage -- in effect, pluralism -- in politics. Such plural-
ism makes for enough consensus to hold the system together and enough
cleavage to make it move. "3 We have previously seen that Rousseau
did not approve of "cleavage" or pluralism in the State. We have also
seen that he would not approve of "moving, " in the sense implied here.
In Voting it is said, "The same social heterogeneity that produces self-
interest also produces a cross-cutting and harmonious community in-
terest. "4 Rousseau, as has been pointed out, did not believe in social
heterogeneity. The latter part of the quote, however, points to the
prior discussion of principle and Rousseau's view of man; this may be

summed up as, "private vice, public good. "

 

1Largely because "liberals" have received many of their ideas
from Rousseau and others who thought along similar lines.

2Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 17. This last reference is
to the notion that the Sovereign may only pass general laws applying
equally to all.

3Berelson 3t a_l_. , Voting, p. 318.

41b_id. , p. 320.

 

43

Voting discusses as its last pair of required characteristics,
individualism and collectivism. An individual casting his ballot is tak-
ing his most individualized action of the election, according to these
authors, and his vote is formed in a sort of group decision. 1 This point
has been discussed previously in the section on partial societies and
further discussion will be put off, but we may safely assume that
Rousseau would term a society, in which this happened, as on the verge
of collapse.

We have seen Rousseau happened to disagree almost totally
with the points raised in the democratic theory sketchily laid out in
Voting. We also find, contrary to these authors, that this particular
philosopher, did carefully consider "these broader properties of the
democratic political system. " One has very poor grounds for criticizing
Rousseau's views if one says that he did not consider the limitations of
common men. In fact, one might argue that Rousseau overstates these
limitations. To say that he did not consider various happenings, such
as the formation of interest groups, within the democratic society and
the effects of these happenings upon that society has also been shown to
have shaky supports. It would be much more fruitful to question the
basis for his theory from which he logically draws the rest. This basis
is Rousseau's view of the state of nature, the natural equality of men,

and the basic understanding of the nature of man. There is another

 

1Ibid., p. 321.

44
possibility, and that is to question particular deductions which Rousseau
makes. We will turn to that question in a later chapter and discuss the
ability of an empirical study, such as that which preceded the writing
of Voting, to meet it.
We will now turn to an examination of the revision of classical
democratic doctrine which is suggested in Schumpeter's work

Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy. Schumpeter offers this defini-

 

 

tion of his revised model of democracy: "the democratic method is that
institutional arrangement for arriving at political decisions in which L
individuals acquire the power to decide by means of a competitive struggle

for the people's vote. "1 Schumpeter proposes to show that the plausi-

 

Tr

bility of assumptions and the tenability of propositions involved in this
definition greatly improves the theory of the democratic process. He
distinguishes seven criteria upon which his revision is a definite improve-
ment. We shall examine each of these criteria.

"First of all, we are provided with a reasonably efficient cri-
terion by which to distinguish democratic governments from others. "2
The classical doctrine is seen as deficient on this criterion since the
will of the people, and also the good of the peeple may be better served
by a non-democratic government. This ground seems extremely shaky

since representation has commonly been urged by democratic theorists.

 

lSchumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy, p. 269.
21bid. ‘—

 

 

 

45

Even when such representation was not urged, the common reason for
recognizing the legitimacy of a decision has always rested upon the
"modus procedende. " As we have seen, James Mill argued that it would
be better to allow the people to be wrong in their judgment than to have
some other body pretend to act with a view toward their good. We may
easily agree with Ranney and Kendall "that the claim of any decision to
be labeled 'democratic' -- whether in economic, social, or other mat-
ters -- depends upon how it was made, not upon its content. "1 It is in-
tere sting to note that Ranney and Kendall cite John Dewey and his dis-
ciples as the prominent holders of the opposing view. Their quote of
one of these disciples is also revealing on this question: "there are
still a few conservatives who treat with a certain aristocratic supercil-
iousness any attempt to broaden the meaning of democracy by giving it
the wider significance of a social program and a humane ideal. "2 It
seems reasonable to infer from this that Professor Dewey's definition
of democracy was still struggling to gain acceptance as late as 1940.

Schumpeter tells us that secondly, "the theory embodied in this
definition leaves all the room we may wish to have for a proper recog-
nition of the vital fact of leadership. "3 The classical democratic theory

is alleged to ignore this fact and attribute "to the electorate an altogether

 

1Ranney & Kendall, Democragy a_1_1_d t_1_1_e American Party
System, p. 13.

29:111. , quoting I. B. Berkson, Preface t_<_) a_n Educational
Philosophy (N.Y. : Columbia University Press, 1940), p. 57.

3Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism a_nd Democracy, p. 270.

 

 

 

 

 

46

unrealistic degree of initiative which practically amounted to ignoring
leadership. " We have already seen that Rousseau, although expecting
much from his citizens, did not expect the citizens to get along without
leadership or without a "Manufactured Will. "1 In fact, Rousseau was
willing to have what might seem a fantastic amount of manufacturing
take place through the use of civil religion. If we turn to the utilitarian,
James Mill, we see him saying that no conclusions may be drawn from
the unthinking conduct of a great majority of an aristocracy, since there
will always be a certain number of wise men, and the rest will be
governed by them. Mill goes on, "The wise and good in any class of
men do, to all general purposes, govern the rest. ”2 We may wish to
question Mill's optimism, but we certainly could not deny that he expects
leadership to occur and, in fact, welcomes it. The basic reason for
accepting leadership has been a doubt that a small and simple enough
society could be set up so that "real" democracy could exist. Rousseau,
who seems to flirt with this idea of a "real" democracy, says that "real"
democracy would be for demi—gods not men.

We may agree with Schumpeter when he says, "so far as there
are genuine group-wise volitions at all . . . our theory does not neglect
them. "3 We also will not argue that such volitions do not usually assert

themselves directly until a political leader chooses to make a cause or

 

1See above especially p. 19.
ZMill, James, o_p. c_it., p. 887.
3Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism alrd Democracy, p. 270.

 

 

47
an issue from them. It should be noted that our classical democratic
theorists would also agree with these points, as has been shown in the
preceding section on leadership. Schumpeter notes that his theory is
no more definite than is the concept of competition for leadership, which
he defines as "free competition for a free vote. "1 This definition is not
seen by Schumpeter as a perfect one, but as a reasonably efficient
working definition. He does not wish to exclude "unfair" or "fraudulent"
competition since to do so would leave us with a completely unrealistic
ideal. Rousseau, as we have seen, would be willing to agree to such
terms -- even to the part about "unfair" or "fraudulent" competition.
He could hardly do otherwise in view of his discussion of civil religion,
leadership and the weighting of the vote so that desired conclusions are
reached. 2 The utilitarians, in view of their ideas on the nature of man,
would also expect potential leaders to do all possible to attain the great-
est satisfaction of their personal interests. The utilitarians would,
however, attempt to make these leaders' interests synonomous with the
mas ses' interest and attempt to avoid, as much as possible, any "unfair"
or "fraudulent" competition. Schumpeter says that this inclusion of
"unfair" competition is as it should be if we wish to understand and not
to philosophize. While we might argue that phiIOSOphy is an attempt at
understanding, we will, nevertheless, agree that utilitarians would wish

to philosophize and reform so that such practices would cease to occur.

 

11bid., p. 271.
2This latter discussion occurs in Book IV of The Social Contract.

 

48

The theory which Schumpeter presents is alleged "to clarify
the relation that subsists between democracy and individual freedom. "1
When Schumpeter tells us that no society tolerates absolute freedom,
we may quickly agree. If we recall James Fitzjames Stephen's discus-
sion of this point we may even agree that it is sometimes better not to
allow such absolute freedom -- even if it were possible for a society to
do so. Schumpeter tells us that, "the democratic method does not
necessarily guarantee a greater amount of individual freedom than
another political method would permit in similar circumstances. It
may well be the other way round. "2 This quote ties in very easily with
Rousseau's view that, "I should have wished to live and die free: that
is, so far subject to the laws that neither 1, nor anybody else, should
be able to cast off their honourable yoke . . . . "3 In a democracy
there must be considerable freedom of conscience, however, or else
we quickly find the problems associated with unlimited majority rule.
Democracy and the majority rule principle do not intend to empower a
particular majority for all time. In other words, they do not intend to
destroy themselves. Thus, it is perfectly clear that democracy requires
dedicated democrats to preserve its principles against the dangers of

what has been termed "mobocracy. "

 

lSchumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism aid Democracy, p. 271
2-Ibid.
3Rousseau, The Social Contract a_n_d £h_e Discourses, p. 177.

 

 

49

Schumpeter's sixth point "that it is the primary function of
the electorate to produce a government"1 evokes no common agreement
or disagreement among classical democratic theorists. There have
been many theories of representation and none has gained complete ac-
ceptance among the theorists. Some have agreed with Schumpeter that
the electorate merely produces and evicts governments, others, such
as Rousseau, retain for the electorate control over the actions of the
magistrates, although reserving for the matistrates the right to manipu-
late the public to their position if possible. It is plain that in practice
the electorate does not strictly control its representatives, however,
there does seem to be some control. This control seems to depend
upon the representative's perception of the consequences of a particular
action. The extent to which this control is effective is a matter of con-
siderable dispute at present.

The final consideration of this theory involves us in a subtle
word distinction. Schumpeter tells us that those who accept the classical
doctrine of democracy believe that the democratic method decides issues
according to the will of the people. However, Schumpeter says, if we
decide these issues by the majority principle, we must realize that "the
will of the majority is the will of the majority and not the will of 'the
people'. "2 We might be willing to accept this, since it is obviously true,

however, Schumpeter takes another step and tells us that attempts at

 

lSchumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy, p. 272.
ZIbid. '—

 

 

 

50
real solutions to this problem have been made by the advocates of Pro-
portional Representation. Schumpeter then tells us that these plans have
met with adverse criticism on practical grounds. It is not hard to dis-
cover the practical grounds upon which Proportional Representation
has been criticized. This scheme was drawn up to combat the evils of
majority rule which tends to exaggerate the size of a majority in the
number of seats it receives, assuming an equitable districting plan to
be in effect. 1 This exaggeration of a majority's strength is indeed a
weakness of the majority system. The strength of the system, however,
is that it encourages the parties to emphasize similarities and attempt
to appeal to the broadest base in the electorate. Pr0portional Repre-
sentation, however, encourages the parties to emphasize their differ-
ences and to encourage the voters to recognize these differences as being
of great importance. Thus, such a method of representation not only
reflects the various shades of political Opinion, it also tends to encourage
their continuance and also to overemphasize their importance. Such a
system of representation is most likely to make government extremely
difficult, if not impossible. At this point we might ask is there anything
in the democratic principle which implies Proportional Representation?
The utilitarians with their view of the greatest pleasure for the greatest

number do not require such a principle since it would subtract from the

 

1This is discussed in G. H. Hallett & C. G. Hoag, Propor-
tional Representation -- The Kiy t__o_ Democracy. 2nd and Rev. ed. ,
(New York: National Municipal League 1940).

 

 

51
areas of widespread agreement as to what that pleasure required to be
fulfilled. The natural rights philosophers, such as Rousseau, all speak
of majority rule, therefore, we may agree with Schumpeter that the
democratic principle does not really imply ProportionalRepresentation. 1
Schumpeter must have addressed this last point to a question of his day
since the classical doctrine of democracy does not support Proportional

Representation.

W
V

This study has discovered a number of things up to this point.
We have seen that any particular philosopher would diverge on a number

of points from the pattern attributed to democratic philosophers in

12‘.

general. We have questioned the accuracy of representation of some of
the classicist's views. There also has been some suggestion as to which
parts of the attempted revisions the classicists have already indicated
agreement with and which parts would probably be agreed to by these
classicists. There remains, however, a number of points, in both the
confrontation of theory with fact and in the revision based upon empir-
ically discovered facts, upon which there is no agreement. The question
now occurs for consideration as to whether or not there is a satisfactory
method of choosing between the alternatives presented. The modern
scientific method has been mentioned as a possibility in this choice.

Before proceeding directly into an inquiry as to the value of the scien-

 

ISchumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism 21d Democracy,

 

p. 273.

52
tific method in enabling us to choose between these alternatives, we
must first examine the claim that empirical findings are facts. Ob-
viously, there is no case if the scientific method has no real claim

to being productive of factual statements.

CHAPTER III

THE VALUE OF CONTEMPORARY
POLITICAL BEHAVIOR RESEARCH

Herbert Storing in his preface to the highly controversial

Essays o_r_1 t_h_e Scientific Study o_f Politics said, "SO deep and widespread

 

is the belief, so eminent and able the believers in the value of the con-
temporary scientific study of politics, that there is not a little impa-
tience with any attempt to question it. "1 Recognition of this was no de-
terent to the authors of the Essays, however. These essays are highly
critical of a "handful of political scientists responsible for the articu-
lation of the prevailing scientific approach and for the establishment
of the most frequently pursued lines of thinking and research"2 The
essays themselves are highly specific, and it is really only in the epi-
logue that we see the reason for the hostility, which is a doubt in the
possibility and usefulness of a value-free science of politics.

John Schaar and Sheldon Wolin in their critique of the Essays
say that the new political science "has advanced without serious re-
sistance from the older political science and without much critical

attention from philosophy. "3 They mention that the criticism and

 

1Herbert J. Storing (ed. ), Essays on £13 Scientific Study of
Politics (N. Y. : Holt, Rinehart and Winston Inc. , 1962), p. v. _-

2Ibid. , p. vi.

3John H. Schaar and Sheldon S. Wolin, "Essays on the
Scientific Study of Politics: A Critique, " American Political Science
Review, 57 (March, 1963), p. 125.

 

 

53

54
guidance of this new political science has been monopolized by those
committed to the scientific orientation. The effort by Storing, e_t al.
most certainly is not guided by a commitment to the scientific orienta-
tion. Schaar and Wolin, however, are very critical of the effort and
term it the work of fanatics. Their review closes with the regret
that, "political philosophy's critique of the new science of politics re-
mains to be written. "1 Perhaps this points up one of the weaknesses
of the review. The Essays could not have been meant to be philosophy,
certainly not political philosophy. As Herbert Storing replied; "Un-
grateful as it may seem the pretty compliment must be denied. We are
students of politics. "2 It seems that the mistake might be traced to
Schaar and Wolin's expectations that the empirical scientist might be
shown that _s_o_rn_e_ of his paths are ill-chosen and that he might "be
brought to reflect on some of the troublesome moral and political im-
plications of his enterprise. "3 The Essays stem from something much
deeper than this. They stem from the rejection of the whole idea of a
new science of politics. We must, however, take Storing at his word;
"Selecting some of the most influential and respected of these ( 'scientific'
teachers), we tried to understand what each one teaches to judge its worth,

and thereby to understand and judge the worth of the scientific ground on

 

11bid., p. 150
2Herbert J. Storing (_a_t a_.l. , "Replies to Schaar and Wolin, "
American Political Science Review, 57 (March, 1963), p. 152.
chhaar and Wolin, op. c_it., p. 125.

 

55
which they stand. "1
The charge of fanaticism is interesting and should be pursued
further. Schaar and Wolin say; "The temper of the whole volume is
unrelievedly hostile and destructive. "2 They go on to say:

The authors assert their convictions inflexibly; they scorn
qualifications; their evidence is polemically drawn and Often
unreliable; their violent language is that of a fanatic. "Fanat-
ic" is a hard term, and seldom found in scholarly book re-
views. But no other term fits. 3

Later, they say that one of the major assumptions of the Essays

is, "that the proper conversation in our field at the present time is a
conversation between the extremes. "4 It seems that if Dr. Strauss's
views on the possibility Of a social science have any likelihood of va-
lidity, then the proper conversation would, indeed, be between extremes.
Strauss, speaking of the status quo, says it claims to be, "not indeed
simply perfect, but fundamentally sound -- i. e. , possessing within

itself the remedies for the ills from which it suffers. "5 Strauss, how-
ever, rejects this claim of the current status quo. He believes that
science cannot always deal with secondary causes.

This distinction makes sense when the question concerns
the study of eclipses of the sun or of comets, but not when it
concerns the study of revealed religion, 1. e. , of what claims
to be the human response to the immediate action of the First

Cause: a study of revealed religion which is not open to the
possibility mentioned cannot peacefully coexist with religion

 

1Storing et al. , "Replies to Schaar and Wolin" p. 152
2Schaar a_nd—Wolin, Op. cit., p. 126

3Ibid " '—

4'I_b'i'd

5Storing et al. , "Replies to Schaar and Wolin, " p. 152.

 

56

but clearly contradicts it; and if it excludes that possibility
without considering it, is in addition dogmatic. 1

It does not seem that Strauss should be attacked for the mere
fact that he does reject the claim of the status quo. The golden mean
is not always the wisest course. There certainly are issues which
should not be abandoned merely for peace since they are issues which
do not admit compromise. There seems to be no possibility of com-
promise between a belief in the possibility of a value free science, or
at least one in which values do not significantly affect the scientific
value of a study, and the rejection of this possibility. This is an issue
which must be argued out.

Robert Dahl tells us that, "the oldest and best example Of the
modern scientific outlook at work is to be found in the studies of voting
behavior using survey methods. "2 Walter Berns mentions that David
Truman also held a similar opinion of voting studies. One of the re-
viewer's comments seems strange in relation to the essay by Walter
Berns on "Voting Studies. " Schaar and Wolin speaking of the center
group of political scientists say:

Such virtue as the center does possess lies not so much

in moderation of eclecticism, as in reliance upon a common
sense understanding of politics, a resolute refusal to expunge

judgments from professional work, and a subordination of
statistics to substance. 3

 

1_lb_i_d., p. 153.

2Robert A. Dahl, "The Behavioral Approach, " American
Political Science Review, LL (December, 1961), p. 768.

3Schaar and Wolin, (LP: c_1t. , pp. 128-129.

 

 

57

Berns is accused of neglecting this center even though he stated:
"With studies using statistics as an aid to political interpretation and
with the merely record keeping studies, this essay is not concerned. "1
Schaar and Wolin's examples of persons in the center include Harold
Gosnell and V. O. Key, yet Berns explicitly includes them in the afore-
mentioned group. What Berns does direct his essay to is those studies,
"whose goal is the eventual 'construction of a theory of political be-
havior' (Voting, p. 329). "' Berns also mentions, "it is at this point,
and for this reason, that the study Of voting behavior emerges out Of the
study of politics; and it is at this point that the political scientist is
superceded by the social scientist. "2 It seems from this that we should
not be surprised that, "none of the books Berns singled out for sus-
tained attention was written by political scientists. "3

Berns' first study is of The People's Choice, an important

 

early book in this trend. He notes that the authors selected three demo-
graphic variables from which to construct an Index of Political Pre-
disposition. The correlation between political predisposition and vote
intention was sufficiently high to permit the authors to assert confidently
that "a person thinks, politically, as he is, socially. "4 Berns notes
that only eight years later the Survey Research Center, using this Index,

"achieved results that effectively undermined its efficacy as a predic-

 

1Storing (ed.), op. cit., p. 9.
2Ibid., p. 6 —
3Saaar and Wolin, op. cit., p. 130.
4Storing (ed.), pp. c_it.,—p. 10.

58
tive tool and, thereby, as a tool of explanation. "1 Berns concludes that
the construction of such an Index, "is symptomatic of a naive devotion
to methodology. "

The Voter Decides is dismissed rather easily by Berns as going

 

"to elaborate lengths to establish the obvious" in the search for psycho-
logical motivations of the voters. It, however, is praised for at least
recognizing "the saliency of political factors to voting behavior. " Rossi
is quoted as saying that Voting is far more interesting. Berns turns
the major portion of his essay to Voting as the most thoroughgoing
attempt to "construct a theory of political behavior. " He mentions that
the book develops two themes -- the social and the political -- although
Berns sees these two themes as a "fundamental ambiguity. " "The social
theme predominates (even in the 'political' chapters), as is indicated by
the author's opinion that questions of the 'formation of preferences' or
'the ways individuals and groups make a 'choice' are part of the 'social'
theme. "2

The social theme is examined beginning with Chapter 6 and the
first attack is that of triviality. Berns characterizes the section on
political discussion as showing that such discussion takes place, "among
those who are likely to be in a position to talk to each other. "3 The

analysis of Chapter 7 questions the interpretations which are drawn.

 

IIbid.
ZStoring (ed.), o_p. _c_i_t., p. 15.
3Ibid.

59
Berns points out that at least 76 per cent of all groups of voters, in this
study, did not change their voting preferences regardless of whom they
talked with. This fact leads him to question the statement that any of
these groups are unstable. He also questions any statement that social
support is the key to stability of voting preferences since obviously
there is change sometimes. The authors of Voting tell us that, "'Social
politics' is, in pure or undisturbed form, conservative politics. "1 This
statement is highly relevant to Berns' discussion since it points up the
difficulty of studying the political scene without reference to politics.
Berns points out "that 'social' explanation proves to depend for its basic
categories on the presence or absence of a political campaign. "2 Berns
now turns to Chapter 13 to discover the import of Voting's discoveries.
In Voting we are given a diagram which demonstrates a psychologist's
view of the vote. We may notice that in this diagram there is no inter-

est in the process of "Genesis of Dispositions. "

  
    
 
 
   

  

“Stimulus"
(Campaign)

“Selective .
Perception”

“Implementation?

 

' x
. “Genesis of :7/
E Dispositions"

J -Fig-1;_AflEIIQIBQI'§_YI€W-2£§P§_VQFC-

11bid., p. 17.
2Ib""id., p. 18.
3Berelson e_ta_l., op. cit., p. 278.

 

60

Berns says that,
Instead of attempting a general statement of voter motiva-
tion, they are content here with a detailed account of the evi-
dence for the 'discovery' that intentions 'supported by one's
social surroundings are more predictably carried out than
are intentions lacking such support' (pp. 280, 283). No one
will quarrel with this innocuous and narrow conclusion. 1
Berns, however still is unhappy with the confusion of several
distinct problems inherent in Voting's discussion, 1. e. , the process Of
making up one's mind with the process of carrying out that decision.
Berns continues to question the interpretation of data in this social sec-
tion also.
Berns next examines the supposedly intervening factor of in-
dividual psychological processes which, if understood, are alleged to be

essential to the understanding of voting. He studies the Burdick and

Brodbeck volume on American Voting Behavior. Berns brings up many

 

of the same questions of interpretation and triviality in looking at this
work. Schaar and Wolin take him to task for "belaboring the crude and
simple-minded political analyses of several psychiatrists which appeared
in a volume of minor status. "2 However, Berns seems to anticipate

this criticism in his list of qualifications. The reason Berns "lauds"
this effort appears to be that: "However superficial his political under-

standing, it is remarkable that, beginning with the most radically non-

 

lStoring (ed.), o_p. 33., p. 19.
2Schaar and Wolin, o_p. git, p. 131.

61

political approach to voting behavior, Brodbeck is led to attempt to
establish its political foundation. 1

When Berns turns to the "Political" Politics section of Voting
he repeats most of the same charges. We hear once more of the triv-
iality of the findings of Voting. We also find that Voting lacks political
relevance because explanations are always in terms of the sub-political.
Berns also questions the interpretations placed upon data because facts
do not speak for themselves. "If the 'scientist' deprives himself of the
benefit of common sense because of his preoccupation with empirically
established 'facts, ' he will end up reporting the predominant relation,
frequently stressing what to the man of common sense is a platitude or
even misleading. "2 The authors of Voting are also charged, as Schaar
and Wolin note, with fabricating "a jargonized, abstract, and remote
vocabulary which has brought neither precision nor illumination. "3
Berns tells us that, "Rice's distinction between the 'moral' and the
'economic' is the equivalent of Berelson, Lazarsfeld, and McPhee's
distinction between 'Style' and 'Position'. The later is merely given
a 'scientific' cover. "4

When Berns looks into the reasons of the authors of Mg for
refusing to delve into the problem in political terms he finds three

justifications. The first is the rejection of the idea of the common

 

1Storing (ed.), Op. cit., p. 31.
2Ibid., p. 38. " —

3Schaar and Wolin, op. cit., p. 130.
4Storing (ed. ). , c_>_p. :c_i_1_:..:_p 39n.

62

good1 and closely related to this, according to Berns, is a display of
scientific credentials which are alleged to prevent evaluation. 2 The
third justification is "a political defense of their methodological concern
with the sub-political. " "The selection and interpretation of facts about
voting behavior imply a political theory. The last chapter is an explicit
defense of their political theory, which is, at the same time, a defense
of their methodology. "3

Thus far we have seen several important questions pointed out.
The fundamental question is whether or not "the scientific approach,
despite its imperfections, contains (an) irredimediable flaw which viti-
ates the entire enterprise and renders its findings politically irrele-
vant. "4 Berns asserts that it does; "I therefore made no 'concession'
or 'admission' concerning the fundamental flaw in the 'scientific
approach'. "5 We will now examine some of these questions and explore
the fundamental one.

James Prothro tells us that observable political behavior is
either meaningless or meaningful, but in either case a science is pos-
sible. In the prior case, the science is that of random probability. If,

on the other hand, observable political behavior deviates from random

 

1$ee Bernard R. Berelson, Paul F. Lazarsfeld, and William
N. McPhee, Voting: _A Study c_>_f Opinion Formation _i_n_a Presidential
Campaign (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1954), p. 54, and
Storing (ed.), op. cit., pp. 43-44.

ZStoring (gt—1.), op. cit., p. 44 and p. 55.

3Ibid., p. 45. _ _

4Schaar and Wolin, op. cit., p. 133.

5Storing e_t a_1., o_p. inf—p. 155.

 

 

 

63

expectations, political science must be committed to the discernment
and explanation of the patterns involved in these deviations. "1 Prothro
ignores the possibility that observable political behavior is meaningful
but that the scientist cannot discern the meaning of this behavior. Such
mistakes led Bernard Crick to say: "The question of methods is usually
a false one and the writings on this subject usually are polemics in
favor of science. "2 The questions which we will examine are not that
easily disposed of for ultimately they may only be argued, not proved.

The attack upon the new political science implied by the charge
of triviality is fairly easy to meet. The advantage of scientific knowl-
edge is that it provides the intersubjectively transmissible evidence
supporting that knowledge, assuming, Of course, that we only call
scientific those methods which provide the basis for such knowledge.
This is not a denial that, "there has been at all times in the world a
considerable amount of subjective knowledge not intersubjectively trans-
missible qua knowledge yet still firmly held. "3 The scientific method
does not verify data or conclusions. What this method does provide is

a way of transmitting them with the evidence supporting them, leaving

 

lProthro, James W. , "The Nonsense Fight over Scientific
Method: Plea for Peace," Journal of Politics 18 (August, 1956),
p. 568. —

2Crick, Bernard, The American Science of Politics: Its
Origins and Conditions (Berkeley: University of CaTlifornia Pre—s—s,
1959): Po 189.

3Brecht, Arnold, Political Theory: The Foundation o_f_
Twentieth Century Political Thoght (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1959), p. 114.

 

 

 

 

 

 

64
acceptance ultimately to the recipient. 1 Rules governing decisions on
acceptance are not strict, but the data, which are the basis of our ac-
ceptance, are transmitted. Thus the charge that all that science has
discovered about politics was already known by common opinion may be
dismissed since this common opinion is now on firmer ground. It is
on firmer ground since the basis for that Opinion is now known and sub-
ject to scrutiny. Scientists who are Optimistic hope for advancement
beyond this stage, but even if the scientific method did no more than
this, science would still be of value to the study of politics. The ques-
tion still remains, however, whether such science is possible.

The question of interpretation of data is more important for
here the questioning of whether values hopelessly color conclusions be-
gins. If we assume, for the moment, that a social or political science
is possible, then this still is a very important topic. This is seen when
Berns is accused of pouncing upon the word "only" when speaking of
the 8 per cent of professional and managerial people who turn to skilled
workers for political advice. 2 Berns' suggestion that we look at the
"other side" and substitute "as many as" for "only" could, indeed, be
important to our conclusion. 3 Another, even more obvious, case of
the importance of care in interpretation of data is that of the 76 per cent

of all members of groups of voters that did not change their party pref-

 

1Ibid., p. 116.
2Schaar and Wolin, e_p. gi_t_., p. 131.
3Storing (ed.), 9p. git” p. 37.

65
erences regardless of whom they talked with. Berns is perfectly cor-
rect in asserting: "It goes much too far, however, to say of those who
did not recall any political discussions that they are 'unstable general-
ly, ' considering the fact that 76 per cent of this group did not change. "1
In these cases, and others which could be used, it is obvious that ex-
treme care must be exercised in the interpretation of data. This is in-
deed an area in which values, of the researcher, may determine the
conclusions of his study; it is also possible for simple misuse of lan-
guage to enter into the picture at this point, and project an unintended
interpretation. The difficulties of preventing values from coloring the
research are indeed many and complex. The difficulties, however, are
not necessarily insuperable since by hypothesis it is not impossible to
distinguish fact from value. If this hypothesis is valid then "steps may
be taken to identify a value ~bias when it occurs, and to minimize, if
not completely eliminate, its perturbing effects. "2 Scientific method
provides the solution to this problem since the data which are the basis
of the interpretations and conclusions are transmitted to other students
of the same problems. Theoretically such interpretations and conclu-
sions should survive critical examination by large numbers of such stu-
dents of politics. To the extent that such critical examination is neglect-

ed, future studies, building upon those results, are more in danger of

 

1_I_b_i_c_1., p. 16.

2Ernest Nagel, The Structure of Science: Problems in the
Logic o_f Scientific Explanation. (New Y_ork: Harcourt, Brace—and-
World, Inc., 1961), p. 487.

 

 

 

 

66

building upon uncertain ground. If we accept the hypothesis, that fact
and value may be distinguished, then we may agree with Prothro. "Be-
cause one may find it difficult to exclude the influence of his values in
interpreting his findings can hardly mean that he should abandon the
effort entirely. "1 This paper will return to that hypothesis at a later
point.

Berns is highly critical of the attempt to understand the politi-
cal by the sub-political. It seems that this criticism is highly justified
in view of the past efforts along this line. Ignoring the political in the
study of politics must necessarily lead to distortions and misunder-
standings. A problem of this type is seen in the discussion in Voting of
social politics as conservative politics. The question is asked: "What
would happen if the processes we have outline d went on undisturbed for
long periods of time? "2 The absurdity of the question is seen when we
realize that the "disturbance" referred to is politics. This is the
problem involved in finding "social determinants" of voting. If the
Democratic party in the United States became resolutely anti-labor
while the Republican party likewise became pro-labor, one would not
doubt that the "labor vote" would be largely switched to the Republican
party —- if this were the most important issue for labor union members;

it is not necessary to say immediately for this is not meant to deny the

 

1Prothro, o_p. gi_t., p. 569
2Berelson, Lazarsfeld, and McPhee, o_p. c_it., p. 137.

67
concept of social politics completely, there undoubtedly would be some
lag. Another, and also better, example of a switch could be seen when
a labor union member, who has always voted Democratic, decides that
the Democratic candidate for office is not the best leader, or is corrupt.
In Voting this possibility is acknowledged in many places. The Survey
Research Center uses the concept of issue saliency to deal with the
problem. Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee use the concept of cross
pressures to meet it. They found that the cross pressured voters tend
to change their vote intentions more often than non-cross pressured
voters and also tend to come to their final decision later than the homo-
geneous group. They tell us that "The party choice of cross pressured
voters tends to follow the weight assigned to the issues. "1 In Chapter
12 we see rather clearly that the question of issue saliency is the most
important factor in the final voting decision of the cross pressured voter.
We are shown that many voters with an initial unfavorable image of
Truman begin announcing their intention to vote Democratic as the
campaign wears on. We see that the political factors are the ones re-
sponsible for a change in vote intention for candidate preference. As
Voting tells us, "the increase in Democratic vote intention from June
to October was sharpest among those to whom class issues were becom-

ing salient. "2 A study which attempts to understand the political by

 

11bid., p. 213

zI'bid. , p. 273. It would seem that research should center upon
the question of why a particular issue is considered salient and not be
content to detail the implementation of an intention as the diagram on

page 59 shows.

68
understanding the sub-political also makes another mistake for the sub-
political does not determine the political. The relationship stated in
this form is Often, and may always be, the opposite.
Those committed to psychology have insisted that to ex-

plain political activity, even the institutional patterns, po-

litical science must turn to the motivations and feelings that

individuals bring to political life or acquire through the po-

litical process itself. 1

The political system, state, sovereign, etc. , either deter-

mines what social patterns may exist and thus what effect the social
system has upon the individual, or it is silent and thus allows the social
system to develop more or less freely; there are always bounds to this
freedom. In the latter case, the sovereign -- or other name you may
prefer for this political power -- may step in and begin to regulate what
it has left along heretofore. We still do not deny that the social system
may resist, or even be effective in this resistance, as in the case of
prohibition in the United States, but what is asserted is that the political
power could effect these changes, if it so desired and were willing to
pay the required price, and is the original former, or allower, of the
social system as it exists. If we follow Erich Fromm we may also
assert that the political affects the psychology to be found in a society

and even, perhaps, determines it. "The future of democracy depends

upon the realization of the individualism that has been the ideological

1Easton, David, The Political System: An Inquiry Into the
State c_>_f Political Science (N. Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1953), p. 151.

 

 

 

69
aim of modern thought since the Renaissance. "1 A purely sub-political
study can never hOpe to understand the political. "At times, commit-
ment to them (psychological categories) tends to become so intensive
that it threatens to conCeal the fact that there is a genuine difference be-
tween situational and psychological data. "2 There seems to be some
reason to study the sub—political, however, since it does affect some
aspects of the individual's attitudes towards politics, and thus the po-
litical system itself, and also since there are similarities between
political acts and others. These factors seanto be of more importance
in understanding immediate circumstances than in understanding be-
ginnings or changes of these circumstances. Extreme care should, in-
deed, be used in this study for changes do occur and ignoring the political
may lead to bewilderment.

David Easton wrote: "Indeed, such is the state of political re-
search that it is not uncommon to hear that many a Washington colum-
nist has an intimate insight into and reliable knowledge of political life
envied by most political scientists. "3 This is where the charge of
fabricating a useless jargon comes into relevance. If the only reason
for using jargon is to confound the reader and give the impression of
knowledge where there is little, then the charge is aptly advanced.

There can be no doubt that the possibility of using jargon in just such a

 

1Fromm, Erich, Escape from Freedom (New York: Rinehart,
1941), p. 270.

2Easton, op. cit., p. 206.

3E1}, p.—42.—

 

70

manner exists. The task of the student of politics, however, is not to
comtemptuously label a term "jargon" but to intellectually judge the
validity and utility of the concepts and definitions advanced. The use
of "jargon" may be defended since words in common usage often have
several meanings and will not convey the exact meaning which the re—
searcher intends. These were the reasons that Bertrand Russell used
an artificial symbolic language in some of his philosophical writings.
It may also be argued that "jargon" is essential to a higher level of
abstraction which is needed to transcent various technical problems
such as historical conditioning in order to arrive at a better understand-
ing of politics. This question, like the others, finally comes to rest on
the question of whether or not facts and values may, in reality, be sepa-
rated for analytical purposes.

The rejection of the idea of the common good is advanced, by
Berns, as a reason for the refusal to delve into the study of voting in
political terms. As it concerns this study, this rejection is most im-
portant in regard to the question of whether or not such rejection is
necessary. Berns quotes both the authors of Voting and the writings of
Robert Dahl when he refers to this rejection. The question is somewhat
similar to 'that of rejecting common sense when approaching the study
of politics. In both cases it seems that the rejection of the idea of
either a common good or common sense is based upon something else
than the demands of the scientific method. This something else could

be a philosophy which rejects either or both of these ideas, but it is

71
not essential to the scientific method to do this. If we take the case of
the common good we can see that the scientist may tell us that he can-
not find such a thing and that he cannot find individuals who act with a
coherent idea Of the common good in their minds. He cannot, however,
tell us by using the scientific method that there is no such thing as a
common good or that individuals should not act with a coherent view of
it. Validation of values is beyond the realm of the scientific method. 1
We can, thereby, say that if the empiricists' view of the demands of
science is responsible for the rejection of these notions it is a mistaken
View. "Scientism is not the scientific method in politics; it is an ideal-
istic attempt to overcome the limitations and uncertainties of politics
through an analogy that confuses the genesis, the verification, and the
application of the theories of the natural sciences. "2 It is interesting
to note that Alfred Ayer, who says that he is in closest agreement with
those commonly known as logical positivists, came to believe that the
justification for the scientific method must be philosophical. Ayer does
reject any ideas that cannot be justified by the scientific method, but he
does so on philosophical grounds. Ayer said:
I maintain in this book that it is not within the province of
philosophy to justify our scientific or common-sense beliefs;
for their validity is an empirical matter, which cannot be

settled by a-priori means. At the same time, the question of
what constitutes such a justification is philosophical. 3

 

1This topic will be explored in more detail in the next chapter.

2Crick, op. gl_t. , p. 224.

3Alfred J:— Ayer, Language Truth 3.11.51 Logic (New York: Dover
Publication revised edition, 1946), p. 25.

72

He also adds, "that the reduction of philosoPhy to analysis need
not be incompatible with the view that its function is to bring to light
the 'presuppositions of science. '"

We may agree with Berns that "the selection and interpretation
of facts about voting behavior imply a political theory. " We may also
agree with the further assertion that values or interests enter into the
choosing of a subject for study. This latter is no apparent difficulty
since it is always the interests of a scientist which have much to do
with choosing what he will study. This does not seem to present an in-
herent obstacle to Objectivity. The question of the interference of
values in the interpretation of data has already been discussed. The
problem which the selection of facts presents is indeed an acute one.
This is the problem to which David Easton directed his book 112

Political System. His conclusion that a systematic theory of politics

 

is necessary to political science is well founded. He also points up
three problems relevant to this discussion. These are; the separation
of political from other types of subject matter, the types of data neces-
sary to political research, and the role of value judgments in the formu-
lation of theory. 1 Thus, theory is indeed important to the selection of
facts. Brecht also agrees with this view; "To isolate the constituent
factors and to select those that are suitable for tentative generalization

are the work of a creative mind, not merely mechanical operations. "2

 

1Easton, 02' _c_i_t., p. 91.
2Brecht, o_p. git” p. 31.

73

Scientific Method, "insists -— at least in its exclusive interpretation ~-
that all ideas, however hazardous, mechanical, or creative in their
origin, must finally be processed in line with Scientific Method in order
to become a part of the body of science; until that time they are at best
preparatory in character. "1 Thus, we can see that the solution to this
problem is similar to that of interpretation, all such facts and inter-
pretations are subject to critical examination by large numbers of stu-
dents. This solution, as the other did, depends upon the validity of the
hypothesis that fact and value may be separated for purposes of analyti-
cal inquiry. Nagel advances two more problems in relation to this sub-
ject. He says that a large number Of characterizations assumed to be
factual descriptions are actually a type of value judgment. He goes on
to say that it is often difficult to distinguish between factual and evalua-
tive contents of terms used in social science. 2 There is no reason to
think that it is inherently impossible to distinguish between characterizing
and appraising judgments implicit in many statements, whether the
statements are made by social or natural scientists. 3

There is another very serious flaw with many studies of voting
behavior. The reason that investigators are led to make absurd state-
ments about social determinants is that their studies are often time and

culture bound. Robert Dahl saw this problem when he said: "The em-

 

lrbid.
ZNagel, 9p. 315.. pp. 490-495.
3Ibid., p. 494

74

pirical political scientist is concerned with what is, as he says, not
with what ought to be. "1 This along with the tendency to be ahistorical
is correctly seen to present a large problem. This tendency to be ahis-
torical seems to stem from a definition of what is right at this moment,
and Often excludes from consideration both what will be shortly and what
has recently been. The problem of political change is Often forgotten
when conclusions are drawn. Dahl's solution for this problem is for
more attention to be paid to this point through careful analysis by be-
haviorists and historians. David Easton, speaking of the same problem,
suggests that through his approach comparative government could ad-
vance beyond the pure descriptive level so that, "the serious bias in con-
temporary political research towards the study of stationary conditions
could be remedied. "2

Another problem Often presented in the voting studies is that
of valuing a dynamic equilibrium. This is seen when we look at the re-
vised theory of democracy presented in Voting. Berelson et. a1 .
clearly believe in restraining the intensity of conflict and also the rate
of change so that "stability in the social and economic structure (may)
be maintained. " These features are said, by these authors, to form
the atmosphere necessary for the survival of the system of political
democracy. Easton also sees this as a value, although he points up

many limitations to the use of the concept as an analytical concept. He

 

1Dahl, o_p. g_i_t., p. 771.
2Easton, op. cit., p. 320.

75

says: "Indirectly the underlying equilibrium theory suggests that politi-
cal science ought to search in other directions for a satisfactory frame-
work in which analysis would rest primarily on qualitative rather than
quantitative description. "1 A dynamic equilibrium in politics does not
seem to have any qualities that should make it a universal value, al-
though it certainly may be held as a value for some. Thomas Cook sees
Easton's systematic science of politics as being based upon modern
economics, not the old ideas of Catlin, and on the central concept of
equilibrium. He remarks: "The root idea common to all these analyses
seemed to be that dynamic stability is itself a value. "2 We should take
note that it seems as though some measure of stability is necessary in
each individual's life. While this has not yet been empirically confirmed
we may suspect, on the basis of the findings of psychology, that in an
unstable political situation some other area, i. e. the social area, would
be used to satisfy the need an individual feels to have something to hang
onto and in relation to which he may orient himself.

It seems that one of the problems that the political scientist
faces along with his critics is a mistaken notion of causality. Very often
both groups know the limitations of the term, but seem to forget these

limitations in their writings. The basic problem with the various forms

 

1Ibid., p. 305.

2Cook, Thomas I. , "The Political System: The Stubborn
Search for a Science of Politics", Journal o_f Philosophy 51 (1954),
p. 136.

 

76
of the phrase is that there must necessarily be some arbitrary time
interval, of some finite length between the cause and the effect. During
this time interval it is possible for some intervening variable to negate
the expected effect. These intervening variables would not actually
affect the scientific law since it is stated in the conditional form; if
_ _ _ then _g_ _. They can make prediction very difficult, however.
This factor, combined with the fact that there are an infinite number of
antecedent conditions to the observed phenomena presents many prob-
lems to prediction, if we use the notion of cause and effect. It has been
pointed out that:
Every detail of what occurs is so inseparably intertwined

with what had occurred before and will occur after, and with

what occurs simultaneously, that any lumping together of

occurances into bigger units called 'events' is utterly arbi-

trary, except where we do so for some special purpose, as

for example a scientific one; then it may be a reasonable,

and even the best possible, procedure in pursuit of this par-

ticular purpose. 1

If each of these antecedent conditions were discovered and

expounded fully, and if the whole problem of "events" was delved into
adequately, the result would be so complex that there would be little
probability that the factors would occur again in the same fashion.
Thus, we would never have the same "cause" and "effect" twice. We

may agree with Bertrand Russell, however, that, "if any such sequence

has been observed in a great many cases, and has never been found to

 

1Brecht, o_p. gi_t., pp. 76-77.

77
fail, there is an inductive probability that it will be found to hold in
future cases. "1 The key words to this sentence are "inductive proba-
bility. " What science claims to advance are probability statements.
This is necessary if any level of generalization is to be reached since
many factors are eliminated from a generalization on the basis that
they have no effect or a negligible one upon the relationship being studied.
This commission does, in fact, prevent absolute confidence in a scien-
tific prediction and this is the reason that probability statements are
needed. Bertrand Russell states that in any advanced science, "there
is nothing that can be called a cause, and nothing that can be called an
effect; there is merely a formula. "2 He goes on "even the 'sameness
of relations' is too simple a phrase; 'sameness of differential equations'
is the only correct phrase. "

We have seen that the replies given in defense of the use of the
scientific method in the study of human behavior, in particular politi-
cal behavior, have rested upon the hypothesis that fact and value may,
in reality, be distinguished and that an ethically neutral social or po-
litical science is a genuine possibility. In the course of this chapter
we have pointed to some of the defenses which might be advanced for

this distinction and to some of the questioning of this distinction. This

 

1Bertrand Russell, "On the Notion of Cause, with Applica-
tions to the Free- Will Problem, " Readings_ in t_l_1_e Philosophy o_f
Science, Herbert Feigl and May Brodbeck (eds. ) (New York: Appleton-
Century- -Crofts, Inc., 1953), p. 394.

{you p. 395.

 

78
list may be enlarged to include the fact that values are commonly
attached to means as well as ends; the means used to attain an end will
affect the nature of the end which is reached. Nagel provides the best
defense for the possibility of distinguishing fact from value. He says,
"The claim that there is such a fusion and that a value-free social
science is, therefore, inherently absurd, confounds two quite different
senses of the term 'value judgment. "'1 The first sense is the char-
acterizing value judgment, and this must necessarily be made in all
sciences. An example of this is the use of the term normality. This
term is somewhat vague, in any science, so that when looking at a
particular instance, the scientist is forced to decide whether or not it
is normal. The second sense of the term is the appraising value judg-
ment "which concludes that some envisionaged or actual state of affairs
is worthy of approval or disapproval. " It is obvious that the person
who wishes to make an appraising value judgment must also make the
characterizing value judgment that the state of affairs is normal, in-
efficient, healthy, etc. It is, however, possible to make the. character-
izing value judgment without appraising it. It is perfectly obvious that
often what purports to be a characterizing value judgment is, in reality,
an appraising value judgment. The Essays point up many such in-

stances. It does not seem to be inherently impossible to make the

 

1Nagel, op. cit., p. 492.

79

called for distinctions, but it does seem to be extremely difficult to do
so. Political science should welcome questioning of its research since
through this manner mistakes, appraising value judgments which are
not labeled, etc. , may be pointed out and corrected. There seems to
be a need for more refutation and argument at this stage in the develoP-
ment of political science. Perhaps many of our unquestioned views are
unfounded. If more efforts were made in this area of comparison, we
should also see that some of our tenets are probably correct. At any
rate we would be given more confidence that the scientific method was
actually being properly applied and was thus productive of the facts
which this method seems capable of producing. Certainly more progress
would be achieved by this method of having more people actually work
on the same type of research problems.

Nagel's distinction between the two types of value judgments
is common, at least implicitly, to all empirical social scientists. This
distinction is a logical outgrowth of the theory of scientific value rela-
tivism which provides the justification for the possibility of an unbiased,
meaning value-free, social science. In the next chapter, however, we
shall see that this theory has two sides. It frees the social scientist
from restraints upon investigation of many types of social problems,
but it also prevents particular types of inquiry into appraising value

judgments.

CHAPTER IV

THE RELATIONSHIP OF EMPIRICAL RESEARCH
AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

In the preceding chapter we have seen that the claim seems
plausible that the findings of contemporary political behavior research
constitute facts about that political behavior. This is especially true
if the utmost precautions are taken to insure objectivity, and if care-
ful and painstaking examination of all inferences, conclusions, etc. is
made. We have seen that errors may be made as easily by this method
as by any other, although the potential remedy for these errors is al-
ways present, theoretically. The question now is: "What does all this
mean for the political theory of democracy?"1 We must now attempt
to gain some understanding of what political philosophy is and what it
attempts to do. We must further explore the theory of scientific value
relativism. Finally, we shall discuss the mutual contributions of po-
licitcal philosophy and political behavior research.

It would seem that political philosophy would be an easy term
to define. However, when we look at the literature we find that there
is considerable controversy as to what constitutes a reasonable defini-
tion. In earlier times we saw philosophy attempting to explain every-

thing about political life. Gradually, however, science began to divorce

 

1Berelson _e_t a_._l. , Voting, p. 305.

80

81
itself from philosophy and adherents of this method began to advance
claims to knowledge. Science began to make more exacting demands
for precision and control through the scientific method. This new
interest in methodology gave rise to the need for distinguishing science
from philosophy. 1 At the present time the boundaries of the areas
these terms cover within the field of politics are in dispute. Most writers
would agree that philosophy deals with ideas about the world, men and
God. It also is generally agreed that philosophy usually examines not
only what is, but what ought to be. Even if there were universal agree-
ment upon the above statements, considerable disagreement would
still exist as to the worth of a study of philosophy as a quick survey of
the literature would reveal.

T. D. Weldon in The Vocabulary o_f PoliticsZ essentially says

 

that political philosophy is a game played with words. He tells us that
philosophers have been wrong in their assumption that words have
essential or intrinsic meanings and this is where they have gone astray.
Weldon attemps to demonstrate that the questions put by traditional po-
litical philosophy have been wrongly posed and cannot be answered.
Such a question as What is justice?, cannot be answered according to

Weldon since there is a false assumption involved that words have real

 

1We should remember that this distinction is not absolute,
and cannot be so, as demonstrated by the considerations of Alfred
Ayer. See above, p. 71.

2T. D. Weldon, The Vocabulary c_>_f Politics (London:
‘ Penguin Books, 1953.)

 

82
essence. It follows from such a belief that the theoretical foundations
of past political thought are equally worthless. Thus Weldon's argu-
ment rests on a belief in relativism of terms. He insists that there
are no absolute standards with which to judge political phenomena.
Weldon believed that philosophers of the past were deceived by geo-
metrical method since axioms (or ideals) do not state necessary or
universal thruths about fact but instead flow logically from an arbi-
trary definition. Thus he arrives at the conclusion that the set of
values which a society adheres to actually have no real base and fur-
ther that one. set of values is as good as any other. This idea is indeed
a challenging one. It is obvious that all language is indeed abstract.
We have seen, however, that Ayer was forced to admit that meta-i
physics could not be completely eliminated even from an analysis of
science. It is also not possible to avoid the need of defining any word
so that it may be used as an instrument of communication. The dis-
tinctive aspect of man's culture is his ability to transmit his exper-
iences and knowledge to others. This, of course, alleviates the need
for each individual to learn from personal experience about his world,
and thus allows mankind to build its civilizations. Man only has this
ability because of his languages, numbers, science, etc. which are,
indeed, cultural artifacts since they are devised by man and do not
exist in the natural world except as related to man. An analysis of
the scientific position upon this question will be deferred to a later

point in this chapter. The question we are faced with at this point is

83

whether or not there is a class of things which must be grouped to-
gether, i. e. as in the concept "tree. " Arnold Brecht suggests: "We
can engage in empirical research whether there are universal and in-
variant 'inescapable' elements in the human way of thinking and feeling
about ethical values, and especially about justice. Strong prima facia
evidence indicates that there are. "1

A somewhat less extreme position that still denies any es sen-
tial worth to political philosophy is demonstrated in the historical and
sociology of knowledge approaches. Sabine tells us that, "there is in
every political theory a reference to a pretty specific situation, which
needs to be grasped in order to understand what the phiIOSOpher is
thinking about. "2 This position views philosophy as "froth upon the
waves" since a philosopher's views, being tied to a specific time and
place can have no universal validity and are really mere rationaliza-
tions of what is occurring or about to occur. Sabine takes a somewhat
modified form of this position when he says that theories are on film
planes. On the first plane, they are theories, or logical entities be-
longing to the abstract role of thought. On the second plane, they are
also beliefs, events in people's minds and factors in their conduct.
The sociology of knowledge approach is very similar to that of the his-
toricists. The background of the philosopher is examined in this type

of research, as well as the specific situation at the time of writing.

 

1Brecht, (3p. 232., p. 401.
2George Sabine, "What Is a Political Theory, " Journal (if

Politics, February, 1959, p. 3.

84

The results Of such research can be extremely interesting and thought
provoking, yet we are always confronted with the problem of setting
ourselves to the intellectual task of judging the validity of the philos-
ophy. Demonstrating the historical situation of the origins of an idea
does not demonstrate, one way or the other, the validity of that idea.

There is a widely held moderate position on the worth of po-
litical philosophy, the holders of which position are mainly interested
in having a theory supplied to fit the known empirical findings and also
to guide future research. In this group there are many opinions as to
the worth of past political philosophy but the unifying factor is the call
for, or attempt to provide, an empirical theory. David Easton com-
menting on the decline of political philosophy says that, "the historical
approach has managed to crush the life out of value theory. "1 He finds
a second reason for this decline in the indifference of political philos-
ophy to causal theory. Easton feels that it is vitally important for
theory to experience a revival since, "the blind search for uniformities
(in political behavior) undirected by a more general theory leads to a
crude empiricism in which facts are piled upon facts until all sense of
purpose is lost. "2 He feels that political theory must analyze our old
values and formulate possible new ones. Easton feels further that it
is necessary for theory to conceptualize the basic areas for empirical

research in political science.

 

1Easton, David, "The Decline Of Modern Political Theory, "
Journal of Politics, February, 1951, p, 40.
‘Zlbid., p. 54.

85

It ought to undertake this in two concurrent and parallel
ways: first, by synthesizing and codifying the limited
generalizations we have in the various fields of political
science and by so formulating the resulting theory that it
lends itself to verification or invalidation and second, by
attempting the more massive task of elaborating a usable
conceptual framework for the whole body of political
science.1

While agreeing with Easton as to the need for such theory, we
must realize that such a theory differs in several ways from what it
is reasonable to call political philosophy. The differences between
such a theory and political philosophy will be discussed shortly.

At this point we shall digress for a moment to discuss briefly
the ideas of George Catlin. We shall first of all point out that his
ideas are now considered somewhat old fashioned, as they are based
largely upon an older understanding of economics. Catlin's ideas do,
however, point up an interesting question which will illustrate the
problem raised by the various value relativists. We should indicate
that not all value relativists would agree with Catlin and that we do not
intend to so indicate. Catlin felt that political science should "go back
to Aristotle" for its definition of politics, although the political scien-
tist must be careful to avoid "metapolitics" in so doing. He felt fur-
ther that it was a mistake to differentiate political science from soci-

ology since if this were not done, the political scientist would be

enabled to look for "units Of control" which Catlin felt to be the real

 

1Ibid., pp. 57-58.

86
field of political science. To Catlin, "the linked relation of the dual
polar demands for freedom and authority is indeed, the fons et origo
of political science . . . . "1 He refers to a political market within
which there is a moving equilibrium yielding pragmatic contentment
as an optimum, and itself providing as in economics a norm, not in
the sense of a moral imperative, but of a schematic ideal and recur-
rent tendency. Catlin felt that the individual traded, in this political
market place, his support of the authority of the state for some degree
of freedom. Political philosophy, according to Catlin, is then con-
cerned with an "ideal equilibrium of contentment." Catlin sees a
place for natural law in his theory, in fact he considers it essential.
Catlin's ideas about natural law, however, differ from those articu-
lated by the classicists. He is quick to point out that wishful idealism
and subjectivism must be dismissed from any idea we might hold about
natural law. Catlin tells us that the rules; psychological, physiologi-
cal, etc. , which are discovered are natural law, and although they may
be defied, the penalty for such defiance must be paid by the individual.
Up to this point Catlin seems to be drawing his ideals directly from a
study of society, but he now tells us that ethics must be viewed as aes-
thetics to avoid building our values upon the social expectations of the
community. We shall not hasten to knock down a theory which is not

generally accepted although, as we have noted earlier, neither con-

 

1Catlin, George, "Political Theory: What is it?" Political
Science Quarterly, March, 1957, p. 14.

 

87

tentment nor equilibrium seem to have any inherent qualities which
should make them universal political values. The question we must
notice, however, is whether or not it is possible, while rejecting this
formulation, to draw our values from a detailed study of society. We
might further wonder whether or not science may help us discover
whether ethics are really aesthetics. Each of these questions will be
examined in a later portion of this chapter.

Leo Strauss provides a staunch defense of political philosophy

in his book What 1_s Political Philosophy?: and other studies. 1 He tells

 

 

 

us that all political action aims at either preservation or change and

is guided by some notion of better or worse. We may wish to question
the universality of this statement since it seems that many actions are
taken in political affairs without careful consideration, or any con-
sideration, of better or worse. If such consideration is made, it may
also be only in regards to the politician's chances of retaining his office
or gaining another. However, we must admit that this consideration,
of better or worse, does Occur in most instances. Strauss tells us

that notions of better or worse in the field of politics have the nature

of Opinion since such notions may be questioned. He sees philosophy
as an attempt at replacing opinion with universal knowledge or knowledge
of the whole. Political philosophy, to Strauss, is then the attempt to

know both the nature of political things, and the right, or the good, po-

 

1Strauss, Leo, What 1_s Political Philos0phy?: and other
studies (Glencoe: Free Press, 1959, pp. 9-55.

 

 

88
litical order. Strauss tells us that this attempt must be limited by what
is accessible to the unassisted human mind. He feels that political life
is always accompanied by some effort to replace political opinion with
political knowledge, but that the center of reference of such an attempt
is always the here and now. When the here and now ceases to be the
center of reference and basic assumptions concerning the nature of
political things are questioned, Strauss feels that political philosophy
then emerges from the study of politics. While we may question some
of the statements involved in this discussion, it does seem that we have
arrived at the most plausible definition of political philosophy. Viz:
Political philosophy is the attempt at replacing political opinion with
universal political knowledge by understanding the nature of political
things, through questioning of the basic assumptions about those politi-
cal things, and through this understanding to know the right, or good,
political order.

The political scientist also hopes to arrive at universal politi-
cal knowledge. He also frequently attempts to do this through question-
ing of the basic assumptions about political things. The political
scientist qua scientist has little hOpe, however, of discovering the right,
or good, political order. He also has several other problems in his
investigation, all of which stem from the relationship Of values to his
research. We will now explore some of the problems which the politi-
cal scientist qua scientist encounters and also the reasons for the ex-

istence of these problems.

89

Brecht tells us that: "In a sense, Scientific Value Relativism
represents the seamy side of Scientific Method . . . . And yet Scien-
tific Value Relativism is the logical implication of Scientific Method. "1
The scientific method provides the researcher with no guides, in abso-
lute terms, as to what is valuable, what is good, or what is right. The
scientist must constantly make use of the debater's tools in such ques-
tions and attempt to discover a higher purpose than the one in question.
Max Weber felt that: "The question of the appropriateness of the
means for achieving a given end is undoubtedly accessible to scientific
analysis. "2 Eventually the scientist reaches the end of the list and an
ultimate value is discovered. Any value lower than this ultimate value
may be investigated in relation to, or relative to, its compatibility
with this ultimate value or goal. Karl Popper tells us that the rules of
empirical procedure must be drawn in such a way that no proposition is
protected from disproof. 3 Now one of these rules of empirical pro-
cedure is that direct or indirect observational data must be used to con-
firm any synthetic proposition. If this rule is to be drawn so that a
proposition which seems to be verified by observation is not protected
from future tests of its validity, then we must say that the prOposition

is probably true, not absolutely true. No matter how certain we are

 

1Brecht, Political Theog, Op. cit. , p. 118.

2Edward A. Shils and Henry—A. —F-inck (trans. and ed.)
" 'Objectivity' in Social Science and Social Policy" Max Weber on the
Methodology clf the Social Sciences (Glencoe, Illinois: The Free Press,
1949) p. 52. —

3Karl A. Popper, The Logic o_f Scientific Discovery (London:
Hutchinson, Ltd. , 1959), p. 54.

 

 

 

 

 

90

that a proposition is true, on the basis of extensive observational data,
we must continue to refrain from granting unconditional support of the
truth of that prOposition since future observational data may weaken our
conviction as to its validity. If we decide that a proposition has been
unconditionally verified, and thus no longer subject to testing, we are
no longer in the realm of science.1 Alfred Ayer tells us that there is
thus a permanent control over all propositions accepted into the domain
of science since none may enter unconditionally. 2 Scientific method,
"does not enable the scientist to render an unconditional scientific value
judgment, and especially not a moral one. "3 We should emphasize the
words scientific in the above quotation since the scientist may make
unconditional value judgments, if he so desires. All that Scientific
Value Relativism demands of him is that such unconditional value judg-
ments be denied the pretense of support by science, or the scientist
qua scientist. Such differentiation of roles is extremely difficult to
maintain, although this appears to be a practical problem not an in-
herently insolvable one.

We might wonder why the scientist must refuse to make un-
conditional scientific value judgments. The answer to this question is
to be found in the rules of logic. Science is often concerned with de-

ductive reasoning, especially in the formation of propositions. There

 

1Ibid., p. 53.
2A. J. Ayer, <_)_p. git” p. 99.
3Brecht, Op. gi_t., p. 125.

 

91
are, however, two types of such propositions. The first is formed by
the analytic deductions taken from a generalization. Analytic deduc-
tions merely bring out the implications of a generalization and add
nothing to the meaning of the original statement. Such reasoning is an
important tool in the testing of a generalization which is not acces sable
to direct observation since disproof of the analytic deduction is dis-
proof of the generalization. We may now ask, "Could not value judg-
ments be analytically deduced from premises as to the actual state of
affairs ?" The answer to this question is "no. " Decisions as to what
the state of affairs should be cannot be derived logically from what the
state of affairs actually is. This may be brought out by a simple ex-
ample. Suppose that a house is painted gray and that its owner desires
to repaint the house so that it is white. It would be obviously absurd
for us to argue that he should not change the color to white since the
house now is gray. The present color of a house tells us nothing about
what color the house should be. We may not, by analytic deduction,
say that x is the state of affairs; therefore, x should be the state of
affairs. We may change the above example so that it is logically valid:
All houses should be painted gray; x is a house; therefore, x should be
painted gray. We now could argue that the owner should not change the
color of his house; since our major premise is a "should" statement,
we may deduce analytically another "should" statement without adding

anything to the original meaning of the first statement.

92

The other type of proposition is a synthetic one. Such a pro-
position adds to the meaning of the original statement. A prOposition
such as, "All men are created equal, therefore all men should be
treated equally, ” is a synthetic proposition. A synthetic proposition
may be either correct or incorrect. However, science could not be
used to tend to confirm the above example; since science, by definition,
involves the use of direct or indirect observational data to confirm
any synthetic proposition. There is no possibility of using observational
data to confirm a "should" or "ought" proposition; therefore, the
scientist qua scientist must declare himself incompetent to test a
"should" or "ought" synthetic proposition. Careful note should be made
of the fact that he must merely declare himself incompetent to test the
proposition qua scientist; or, in other words, declare there can be no
scientific belief, or disbelief, in the validity of the proposition. This
does not mean that there can be no belief, or disbelief, in the validity
of the proposition based upon other grounds. To make the equality
example logically correct it should be stated: Equal things should be
treated equally; all men are created equal; therefore, all men should
be treated equally. This would make the statement logically correct,
though not necessarily empirically correct since the empiricist could
test the proposition that all men are created equal, if the terms were
defined in a concise manner which would permit such testing. It should
be noted that, as discussed above, proving that all men are created

equal does not thereby prove either that equal things should be treated

93

equally or that all men should be treated equally. 1 Discussion of the
practical consequences of this logical gulf between "is" and "ought"
statements will be postponed while we turn briefly to some other prob-
lems that values present to the scientific method.

Some of these problems were discussed previously in the
last chapter, especially the role of values and value judgments in the
identification of facts and in the determination of conclusions. These
will not be discussed further. There are still a number of immanent-a-
prioris, or value judgments, of science which even the most empirical
social scientist must be involved in. Some of these value judgments
present no particular theoretical problem, but others do. We may say
that values enter into a determination to study society and human ac-
tivity in the first place. It is obviously not a mere coincidence that
there are more students of human politics, sociology, economics,
psychology, etc. , than there are students of the behavior of chimpan-
zees. 2 This, of course, isn't a particularly important problem since
values often help any scientist decide what will be studied and their
role in this selection of' a study is no inherent obstacle to Objectivity.

Values similarly enter into the determination of the agenda for a social

 

1It is also possible to remove the entire question from the
realm of the empiricist by holding that as an ultimate value, all men
should be treated equally without regard to their objective equality or
inequality.

2In fact, when the behavior of chimpanzees is studied, the
object of the research is often to gain insight into the behavior of human
beings.

94
science study. This fact, while presenting no inherent obstacle to
objectivity, does present the practical difficulty that significant factors
may be overlooked. There remain three much more important theo-
retical considerations concerning the scientific method itself.

We have already noticed that acceptance of the scientific
method as a valid tool to be used for study is itself a value judgment.
The acceptance of the scientific method means that descriptive state-
ments are only accepted if they withstand the demands of the scien-
tific method. The validity of the descriptive statements which we ac-
cept is, therefore, dependent upon the validity of the claims of the
scientific method that it is able to produce empirical facts and that
issue is a subject Of dispute as noted in the previous chapter. As Ayer
noted, the rules of procedure or scientific justification are questions
for philosophy since there is no way in which the scientific method can
be used to justify itself. It has been argued that the scientific method
is not dependent upon metaphysical assumptions since scientific rules
of procedure are not synthetic propositions. 1 This fact is alleged to
exclude these rules from the requirement of confirmation by directly
or indirectly observable data. It is obvious that these rules could not
be so confirmed. If the scientific rules of procedure are not syn-

thetic, i. e. do not add anything to the meaning of the original prOposi-

 

1Simon Daniel Perry, Conflict o_f Expectations and Roles i_r_1
"Policy Science" Behavior (Thesis for the degree of Ph. D. Michigan
State University, 1961) pp. 248-249.

 

 

 

95
tion, then they must be products of analytic deductive reasoning.
Products of such reasoning correctly carried out must necessarily be
true. Therefore, the scientific rules of procedure, if deduced analyt-
ically and correctly, must necessarily be true statements. The ques-
tion, however, is: Why must such analytic deductions be true? The
answer is simple: They are true by definition. Therefore, if we de-
fine the scientific method as that method which provides intersub-
jectively transmissible evidence as a basis for our knowledge through
hypothesis, observation, description, and prediction or theory buildingl
then deductively drawn rules of scientific procedures will necessarily
be true assuming that the reasoning involved was correct. However,
this does not provide a way for the scientific method to prove that it is
not merely a definition, 1. e. the definition cannot be tested by the
scientific method. Perhaps an example is in order at this point. If
I say that all books have black covers with gold titles, 500 pages Of
printed material between those covers, and weigh one pound, it is a
perfectly valid analytically drawn deductive conclusion to say that x
is not a book even though it fits all the particulars of the definition but

weighs one half of a pound. In this case, one might question the original

 

1These elements of the definition were arbitrarily chosen by
the author and could be expanded upon as is done in Brecht, op. cit. ,
pp. 28-29. A plausible case could be presented for the inclu—s-ion—‘o—f a
conceptual framework as the first element in this definition since that
would lead to the actual process of designing an empirical study. Pre-
diction is an optional part of the above definition since the more we are
committed to an empirical outlook, the less sure we may be that the
same sequence of events will occur in the future since we cannot ob-

serve this to be so.

96
definition but cannot question the deduction made from that definition.
Desirable as it might be, there appears to be no way in which science
may avoid a dependency upon philosophical reasoning for its own
justification.

An outgrowth of the above consideration is that it is a value
judgment, a philosophical consideration, which is responsible for the
restriction of political science, by the empiricist, to those things
which may be answered by the empirical method. There is no ground
by which the social scientist could empirically assert that other areas
are meaningless. The most that he can say is that he cannot observe
the alleged phenomena. Nagel points out that the behaviorist does not
deny the existence of other phenomena besides overt behavior. Be-
haviorists merely assert that overt behavior is the best class of things
to study if we desire intersubjectively transmissible evidence of our
knowledge.

Another value judgment is of importance to the scientist. This
is the very standard for accepting data, statements, etc. , into the
domain of science. 1 While this judgment is on a lower level than the
preceding two, it is nonetheless extremely important to science. There
are no clear cut rules as to when such statements should be considered
part of the body of scientific knowledge. The reasons for this, of

course, stem from the other norms of science. Since science refuses

 

1Brecht, 9p. (fin p. 114.

97

to grant unconditional acceptance to any statement, an arbitrary point
must be chosen at which enough evidence has been amassed that pro-
visional acceptance may be granted. This point must be chosen by the
individual since no proposition is ever removed from the possibility of
disproof by new tests and it only requires one doubter to undertake
such retesting. There should be no majority rule as to dogma in
science, especially since the great breakthroughs often come from a
very limited number of doubters of generally accepted propositions. l
Einstein expressed this tentativeness of acceptance of propositions
very clearly. "It has so far not been possible to substitute for the
Newtonian unified conception of the universe a similarly unified com-
prehensive conception. But what we have gained up till now would have
been impossible without Newton's clear system. "2

We mentioned earlier that when the classical democratic
doctrine was alleged to differ from the facts, there were two possible
remedies to this situation. We could, as Schumpeter and Berelson
e_t a_l. did, attempt to revise the theory of democracy to correspond to
fact. 3 It is interesting that Erich Fromm saw many of the same char-

acteristics of American Society but suggested a different remedy.

 

1An interesting discussion of the normative orientation of
science is contained in Perry, op. cit. , pp. 241 -246. This discussion
is based largely upon Robert K. —Me-r_t-0n's, "Science and Democratic
Social Structure, " Social Theory and Social Structure (Glencoe, Illinois:
The Free Press, 1957).

‘ 2Einstein, Albert, 92: o_f my Later Years (N. Y. : Philosophical

Library, 1950) p. 222. _—

3See above page 31.

 

 

 

98
What then is the meaning of freedom for modern man?
He has become free from the external bonds that would pre-
vent him from doing and thinking as he sees fit. He would
be free to act according to his own will, if he knew what he
wanted, thought and felt. But he does not know. 1

Fromm instead of lowering the supposed requirements of the
citizen attempted to sketch a form of society that would allow freedom,
as he saw it, to be fully realized. If we wish to decide which is the
better solution to the problem we must turn to a discussion of the
ability of an empirical study, such as that which preceded the writing
of Voting, to question the particular deductions made by a classical
democratic theorist.

Rousseau attempted to find a "sure and legitimate rule of ad-
ministration men being taken as they are and laws as they might be. "
When reading the last chapter of W we may be struck by one sen-
tence which happened to appear in the section on individualism and
collectivism, but applies equally well to the rest of the chapter. "To
maintain our present political style of life, we may have to accept
interdependence with others in collective behavior. "2 The crucial
phrase is "present political style of life. " This is exactly what
Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee attempted to study. They attempt,

as does any empirical study, to discover what was happening in a spe-

cific situation, i. e. Elmira in the 1948 election campaign. To say,

 

1Fromm, pp. 3113., p. 255.
zBerelson e_ta_.1., c_)_p. c_it., p. 321.

99

from such a study, that what was happening differed from what Rousseau
said should be happening is no argument. Rousseau did not describe
what was happening around him in the middle of the 18th century, It is
easily seen that what Rousseau wanted to occur was not the actual state
of affairs if we glance at probably the most famous sentence from his
writings: "Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. "1 This
is where the disagreement over interest and motivation may be used
most graphically. Rousseau says that lack of interest, or a low level
of it, leads inevitably to the state's downfall. The authors of Voting,
however, assert that "moderate indifference" is good for a political
system since it facilitates compromise. There is no possible way in
which these authors can tell from their data whether or not "moderate
indifference" points to the impending fall of the state. It is obvious
that they studied Elmira in 1948 and had no way of knowing what would
happen in 1958 or any other year in the future. The only method which
could be used to so predict is faith; certainly not science.

It is obvious that much of what is contained in the classical
doctrine of democracy is not analytic theory. Since this is the case
it is obviously not legitimate for modern empirical studies to examine

such doctrine as though it were analytic theory. 2 There are Often

 

1Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 3.

th has also been seen that it is not legitimate to treat such
theory as normative theory and then compare what "is" with what
"ought" to be.

 

100
analytic elements to the classical philosophy but these elements are
usually intertwined with normative assumptions. We may ask, there-
fore what science can do in relation to values, in view of the limita-
tions imposed by the logical gulf doctrine. Brecht has a rather com-

plete discussion of this point in his book Political Theory. He pre-

 

sents a list of what the scientist may attempt to discover in line with

scientific method:
1. PURPOSES

(1) What the immediate purposes are which people
actually are pursuing at some definite place and time;

(2) what their ulterior purposes are, what the pur-
poses back of their ulterior purposes, and so forth;

(3) whether there are conflicting purposes, pursued
by the same person at the same time or at different times;
(4) in case the goals pursued are ideals, such as
justice, freedom, equality, general welfare, what is the
meaning of these purposes in the minds of those who pur-
sue them, and what other meanings have been, or might

be, associated with these abstractions;

(5) what the biographical or biological origin of the
person's espousal of the purpose was, i. e. , what has made
him pursue some particular purpose, especially what role
has been played, in the formation of his value judgments,
by inheritance, by environment, by childhood experiences,
and so on, down to immediate motivations, including the
question whether his choice of purpose was influenced by
moral ideas and how he arrived at them;

(6) the possibility, probability, improbability, or im-
possibility of achieving the purpose at all, by any means
used;

(7) what are the foreseeable consequences and risks
involved in the pursuit of the purpose at hand, irrespective
of the choice of means;

(8) how people might be influenced to pursue some
particular purpose, or to drop its pursuit, especially
through a switch to other purposes;

(9) what is the function of purposes, and of exercising
an influence on their selection (manipulating them), in the
various spheres Of social life, political, economic, etc.

101
ii. MEANS

(10) The suitability of the means to achieve the end,
i. e. , the possibility, probability, improbability, or im-
possibility of achieving the purpose by the means at hand;

(11) whether there are other means whereby the pur-
pose could be reached more quickly, more thoroughly, or
at a lower price in money or in sacrifice of conflicting
purposes;

(12) what are the foreseeable consequences and risks
of applying the means at hand or any alternative means
especially regarding conflicting purposes pursued by the
same person or by others;

(13) how the choice of means can be influenced;

(14) what is the function of the selection of means and
of influencing it in social life.

iii. QUALITIES
(15) If a quality is cherished, such as a person's
courage or patience, or a knife's property to cut well,
whether the person or thing actually has that quality and in
what degree. 1
Brecht further tells us that "the scientist may make relevant
statements and inquiries also on . . . whether there are or ought to
be ultimate purposes and whether something may be valuable without
serving a purpose. " Thus we see that science may work around a
conception of an ultimate purpose in many ways. A scientist cannot,
however, directly examine an ultimate value or ultimate purpose and
must conclude that its validity may not be ascertained or disproved
by the use of the scientific method. The name scientific value rela-

tivism comes from this very consideration. Science must examine

values relative to some other value, purpose, etc.

 

1Brecht, op. c_it., pp. 121-122.

102

In m we are told, "Twentieth-century political theory --l
both analytic and normative -- will arise only from hard and long ob-
servation of the actual world of politics, closely identified with the
deeper problems of practical politics. "1 The authors of V_o_ti3_1_g attempt-
ed to observe what was happening in Elmira in 1948. Yet precisely be-
cause this is what they did, they are prevented from contributing to
"normative theory. " The "political theory" drawn from such data
must accept what is, as what can be, or what should be unless we are
willing to allow other considerations, than those admitted to the body
of science, to enter into our study. The only way one could attempt
to derive a normative theory of democracy, from such findings, would
be, assuming that the findings could be generalized past Elmira, to
assert that what was found to be true in Elmira in 1948 was the best
possible condition of men, and that would not be empirically confirm-
able. There is no such thing as "normative" theory if such theory only
describes what is happening, at a particular time and in a particular
place, rather than describing what "could'' or "should" be happening.
The scientific method necessarily precludes this type of inquiry from
direct entrance into the field of "normative" theory, because proceed-
ing in this vein ties the researcher to the conditions he is studying.
It is not irrelevant to point out that picking one period of time, and/or

particular place as the basis from which to derive a normative theory

 

1Berelson e_t a_l. , Voting, p. 323.

103
necessarily involves an appraising value judgment. It should be re-
membered that the fact that the individual voter does have, or does not
have, certain qualities does not prove whether or not he should have

those qualities .

B IB LIOGRAPHY

A. BOOKS

Ayer, Alfred J. Language, Truth, and Logic. New York: Dover
Publications, revised edition, 1946.

 

Berelson, Bernard, Paul F. Lazarsfeld and William N. McPhee,
Voting: A Stu udy_ of Opinion Formation i_n a Presidential Campaigg.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press,— 1954.

 

 

Brecht, Arnold. Political Theory: The Foundation 2f Twentieth—
Century Political Thought. Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1959.

 

 

 

 

Burnham, James. The Machiavellians, Defenders 3f Freedom. New
York: John Day Company, 1943.

 

 

Cohen, Morris P. and Ernest Nagel. An Introduction t3 Logic and
Scientific Method. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1934.

 

 

Crick, Bernard. The American Science _o_f Politics: _I_ts Origins a_nd
Conditions. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1959.

 

 

 

Dahl, Robert A. A Preface t_o Democratic Theory. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1956.

 

Dahl, Robert A. Modern Political Analysis. Englewood Cliffs, New
Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1963.

 

Easton, David. The Political System: A_r_1 Inquigy into t__he State o_f
Political Science. New York: Alfred A. Knopf Incorporated,
1953.

 

 

 

 

Einstein, Alfred. gut <_)_f My Later Years. New York: The Philo-
sophical Library, 1950.

 

Eysenck, H. J. The Psychology o_f Politics. New York: Praeger,
1954.

 

Fromm, Erich. Escape from Freedom. New York: Rinehart, 1941

 

Greaves, H. G. Foundations 21 Political Theory. London: Allen
Unwin Limited, 1958.

 

 

104

105

Halevy, Elie. The Growth of Philosophical Radicalism. London:
Faber and Faber Limited, 1952.

 

 

Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan, Parts One and 'I_‘__wo. New York: The
Liberal Arts Press, Incorporated, 1958.

 

 

 

Hyneman, Charles S. T_h_e Study o_f Politics. Elibana: University
of Illinois Press, 1959.

Jenkin, Thomas P. The Study 9f Political Theory. Garden City:
Doubleday Incorporated, 1955.

 

Lindsay, A. D. The Modern Democratic State. New York: Oxford
University Press, 1947.

 

Lippincott, Benjamin. Victorian Cities c_)_f Democracy. Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 1938.

 

 

Lipset, Seymour Martin. Political Man: The Social Bases _O_f Politics.
New York: Doubleday Incorporated, 1960.

 

Maunheim, Karl. Ideology and Utopia: A__1_1 Introduction t_o th__e Sociology
(if Knowledge. New York. Harcourt Brace Incorporated, 1946.

 

 

 

Mayo, Henry B. An Introduction to Democratic Theogy, New York:
Oxford University Press, 1960.

 

 

Merton, Robert K. Social Theory a_n_c_l Social Structure. Glencoe:
Free Press, 1949.

 

 

Michels, Roberto. Political Parties: A Sociological Study 9f 1113
Ol_igarchical Tendencies of Modern Democrag. (trans. Eden and
Cedar Paul) New York: Collier Books, 1962.

 

 

 

 

Mill, John Stuart. Representative Government. New York: Liberal
Arts Press, 1958.

 

Mills, C. Wright. The Sociolchgécal Imagination. New York: Oxford
University Press, 1959.

 

Myrdal, Gunnar. "A Methodological Note on Facts and Valuations in
the Social Sciences, " Appendix 2, _A_1_1 American Dilemma. New
York: Harper, 1944.

 

Nagel, Ernest. Logic Without Metaphysics. Glencoe: Free Press, 1956.

 

 

106

Nagel, Ernest. The Structure 2.1 Science: Problems 111 _t_h_e Logic 91'
Scientific Explanation. New York: Harcourt Brace Incorporated,

1961.

 

 

 

Pennock, J. Roland. Liberal Democracy. New York: Rinehart, 1950.

 

Perry, Simon Daniel. Conflict (if Expectations and Roles i_1_1 "Policy
Science" Behavior. East Lansing: Thesis for the degree of
Ph. D. , Michigan State University, 1961.

 

 

Popper, Karl A. The Logic 31 Scientific Discovery. London:
Hutchinson, Ltd., 1959.

 

Ranney, Austin and Willard Kendall, Democracy and th_e American
Party System. New York: Harcourt Brace Incorporated, 1956.

 

 

 

Reichenbach, Hans. 'I_‘_h_e Rise <_)_f Scientific Philosophy. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1951.

 

Rousseau, Jean Jacques. The Social Contract 23.31 Discourses. Trans.
G. D. H. Cole. New York: Everyman's Library, 1950.

 

 

Rousseau, Jean Jacques. Rousseau: Political Writirgg. Trans. and
ed. Frederick Watkins. Edinburgh and New York: Nelson, 1953.

 

Schumpeter, Joseph A. Capitalism, Socialism a_n_d Democracy. New
York: Harper Incorporated, 1942.

 

 

Strauss, Leo. Natural Right and History. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1953.

 

Van Dyke, Vernon. Political Science: A Philosophical Analysis.
Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1960.

 

 

Weldon, T. D. The Vocabulary o_fPolitics. London: Penguin Books,
1953.

 

B. PUBLICATIONS OF ORGANIZATIONS

Hallett, G. H. and C. G. Hoag. Proportional Representation: The
Key 159 Democracy. New York: National Municipal League, re-
vised edition, 1940.

 

 

 

107

C. PERIODICALS

Berelson, Bernard R. "Democratic Theory and Public Opinion, "
Public Opinion Quarterly, XVI (Fall 1952)

 

Brecht, Arnold. "Beyond Relativism in Political Theory, " American
Political Science Review, XLI (1947)

 

 

Brecht, Arnold. "Democracy, Challenge to Theory," Social Research,
XIII (1946).

 

Catlin, George. "Political Theory: What is it?, " Political Science
Quarterly, LXXII (March 1957).

 

Cobban, Alfred. "The Decline of Political Theory, " Political Science
Quarterly, LXVIII (September 1953).

 

 

Cook, Thomas I. "The Political System: The Stubborn Search for a
Science of Politics," Journal o_f Philosophy, L1 (1954).

 

Dahl, Robert A. "The Behavioral Approach, " American Political
Science Review, LV (December, 1961)

 

 

Easton, David. "The Decline of Modern Political Theory, " Journal
_O_f Politics, XIII (February 1951).

Eckstein, Harry. "Political Theory and the Study of Politics: A
Report of a Conference, " American Political Science Review, L
(June 1956).

 

 

Glaser, William. "The Types and Uses of Political Theory," Social
Research, XXII (Autumn 1955)

Hacker, Andrew, "Capital and Carbuncles: The Great Books Re-
appraised, " American Political Science Review, IIL (September
1954).

 

McCloskey, Robert G. "American Political Thought and the Study of
Politics, " American Political Science Review, L1 (1957)

 

Mead, G. H. "Scientific Method and the Moral Sciences, " International
Journal o_f Ethics, XXXIII (1923).

 

Merriam, Charles E. "Assumptions of Democracy," Political Science
Quarterly, L111 (1938).

 

108

Oppenheim, Felix. "Relativism, Absolutism, and Democracy, "
American Political Science Review, XLIV (1950).

 

Pennock, J. Roland. "Reason, Value Theory, and the Theory of
Democracy, " American Political Science Review, XXXVIII
(1944).

 

 

Prothro, James W. "The Nonsense Fight Over Scientific Method:
Plea for Peace, " Journal o_f Politics, XVIII (August 1956).

Rappoport, Annatol. "Various Meanings of 'Theory', " American
Political Science Review, LII (December 1958).

 

 

Selznick, Phillip. "Sociology and Natural Laws, " Natural Law Forum,
VI (1961)

 

Sabine, George. "What is a Political Theory?" Journal pf Politics, I
(February 1939).

Schaar, John H. and Sheldon S. Wolin. "Essays on the Scientific
Study of Politics: A Critque, " American Political Science Review,
LVII (March 1963)

 

Storing, Hubert J. et agl. "Replies to Schaar and Wolin, " American
Political Science Review, LVII (March 1963).

 

 

D. ESSAYS AND ARTICLES IN COLLECTIONS

Barker, Sir Ernest (ed. ). Social Contract: Essays by Locke, Hume,
and Rousseau. New York: Oxford University Press, 1948.

 

 

 

Bentham, Jeremy. "An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and
Legislation, " abridged in Edwin A. Burtt (ed. ). The English
Philosophers from Bacon to Mill. New York: The Modern
Library, 1939. '—

 

 

 

 

Berns, Walter. "The Voting Studies, " in Herbert J. Storing (ed. ).
Essays o_n flip Scientific Study O_f Politics. New York: Holt, 1962.

 

Burdick, Eugene. ”Political Theory and the Voting Studies, " in
Burdick and Brodbeck (eds. ). American Voting Behavior.
Glencoe: Free Press, 1959.

 

109

Feigl, Herbert. "The Scientific Outlook: Naturalism and Humanism, "
in Feigl and Brodbeck (eds. ). Readings ill th_e Philosophy o_f
Science. New York: Appleton, Century, Crofts, Incorporated,
1953.

 

Grunbaum , Adolph. "Causality and the Science of Human Behavior, "
in Feigl and Brodbeck (eds. ). Readings lil £1_1_e Philosophy 3f
Science. New York: Appleton, Century, Crofts, Incorporated,
1953.

 

Kamin, Leon J. "Ethnic and Party Affiliations of Candidates as
Determinants of Voting, " reprinted from The Canadian Journal
o_f Psychology, XII (1958) in S. Sydney Ulmer (ed. ). Introductory
Readings -- Political Behavior. Chicago: Rand McNally and
Company, 1961.

 

 

 

 

 

Madison, James. The Federalist Number _1_0. New York: The Modern
Library, 1937.

 

Mill, James. "A Fragment on Government" in Edwin A. Burtt (ed. ).
The English Philosophers from Bacon t_o Mill. New York: The
Modern Library, 1939.

 

Parsons, Talcott. Essays in Sociological Theory: Pure and Applied.
Glencoe: Free Press, 1949.

 

Passmore, J. A. "Can the Social Sciences be Value-Free?" in Feigl
and Brodbeck (eds. ). Readings i_n_ the Philosophy c_:_f Science.
New York: Appleton, Century, Crofts, Incorporated, 1953.

 

Rudner, Richard. "Value Judgments in the Acceptance of Theories, "
in P. G. Frank (ed. ). The Validation o_f Scientific Theories.
New York: Science Library, Collier Books, 1961.

 

 

Russell, Bertrand. "On the Notion of Cause, with Applications to the
Free-Will Problem, " in Feigl and Brodbeck (eds. ). Readings
i_r_1 th_e Philosophy o_f Science. New York: Appleton, Century,
Crofts, Incorporated, 1953.

 

Strauss, Leo and Joseph Cropsey (eds. ). Histogy o_f Political Philos-
ophy. Chicago: Rand McNally and Company, 1963.

 

Strauss, Leo. What _i_s_ Political PhilOSOphy? and Other Studies.
Glencoe: Free Press, 1959.

 

 

Storing, Herbert J. (ed. ). Essays on the Scientific Study (if Politics.
New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Incorporated, 1962.-

 

110

Weber, Max. Max Weber o_n th_e Methodology 31 _t_h_e Social Sciences.
Trans. and ed. Edward A. Shils and Henry A. Finck. Glencoe,
Illinois: The Free Press, 1949.

 

 

 

11'")? 01y {1

 

 

 

 

 

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