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An Exposition of Constructivism: Why Some Like
it Radical
Ernst von Glasersfeld
Scientific Reasoning Research Institute
University of Massachusetts
Printable PDF
Reproduced from the
Ernst von Glasersfeld page of the
Ecology of Mind site.
|
Man,
having within himself an imagined World of lines and
numbers, operates in it with abstractions, just
as God, in the universe, did with
reality.[1] |
Giambattista Vico
|
When
the Neapolitan philosopher Giambattista Vico published his
treatise on the construction of knowledge,[2]
it
triggered quite a controversy in the Giornale de' Letterati
d'Italia, one of the most prestigious
scholarly journals at the time. This was in the years 1710-12.
The first reviewer, who remained anonymous, had carefully read
the treatise and was obviously shocked by the implications it
had for traditional epistemology − all the more so because, as
he conceded, the arguments showed great learning and were
presented with elegance. He was therefore impelled to question
Vico's position, and he very politely suggested that one thing
was lacking in the treatise: the proof that what it
asserted was true.[3]
Today,
those
constructivists who
are "radical" because they take their theory of
knowing
seriously, frequently
meet the same objection − except that it is
sometimes
expressed less politely than at the beginning of the 18th century. Now,
no
less than then, it is
difficult to show the critics that what they demand
is
the very thing
constructivism must do without. To claim that one's theory
of
knowing is true, in
the traditional sense of representing a state or
feature
of an experiencer-independent world, would be perjury for a radical
constructivist.
One of the central points
of the theory is precisely that
this kind of "truth," can never be claimed for the knowledge (or any
piece
of it) that human
reason produces. To mark this radical departure, I
have in the last few years taken to calling my orientation
a theory of
knowing rather than a "theory
of knowledge." I agree whole-heartedly
with
Noddings when she
says, at the beginning of her contribution to this
volume, that radical constructivism should be "offered as a
post-epistemological
perspective." One of the consequences of such an
appraisal, however,
must be that one does not persist in arguing against
it
as though it were or
purported to be a traditional theory of knowledge.
Another consequence − for
me the more important one − is that constructivism
needs to be radical
and must explain that one can, indeed, manage without
the traditional notion of Truth. That this task is possible
may become
more
plausible if I trace
the sources of some of the ideas that made the
enterprise seem desirable.
In retrospect, the path along which I picked up relevant ideas
(somewhat
abbreviated and
idealized) led from the early doubts of the
Pre-Socratics,
via Montaigne,
Berkeley, Vico, and Kant, to thinkers who developed
instrumentalism and
pragmatism at the turn of this century, and
eventually
to the Italian
Operational School and Piaget's genetic epistemology.
THE WAY OF THE SCEPTICS
To Xenophanes (6th century
B.C.) we may credit the insight that even if someone succeeded in describing
exactly how the world really is, he or she would have no way of
knowing that it was the "true" description.[4]
This
is
the major argument
the sceptics have repeated for two thousand five hundred
years. It is based on
the assumption that whatever ideas or knowledge we
have must have been
derived in some way from our experience, which
includes
sensing, acting, and thinking. If this is the case, we have no way of
checking the truth of
our knowledge with the world presumed to be lying
beyond our
experiential interface, because to do this, we would need an
access to such a world that does not involve our
experiencing it.
Plato tried to get
around this by claiming that some god had placed
the
pure ideas inside us
and that experience with the fuzzy, imperfect world
of
the senses could only
serve to make us "remember" what was really true.
Thus, there would be no
need (and no way) to check our knowledge against an independent external
reality. Consequently, in Plato's famous metaphor, the man who is led out of the
cave of his commonplace experience is blinded by a splendid vision. But his
vision is the pure realm of an interpersonal soul and not the fuzzy world
perceived by the senses.[5]
From my point of view,
Plato created an
ingenious poetic or "metaphysical" myth, but not a
rational
theory of knowing.
The sceptics position,
developed into a school under Pyrrho at the end
of
the next century, was
diligently compiled and documented by Sextus
Empiricus
about 200 A.D. It smoldered under the theological debates of the middle
ages
and burst into full
flame in the 16th century when the works of Sextus
Empiricus were rediscovered. Descartes set out to put an
end to it, but
succeeded only in
strengthening the side he was opposing (cf. Popkin,
1979).
The British Empiricists
then helped to harden the sceptical doctrine by
their detailed
analyses. First, Locke discarded the secondary (sensory)
properties of things as sources of "true" information about
the real
world.
Then, Berkeley showed that
Locke's arguments applied equally to the
primary
properties (spatial
extension, motion, number,etc.), and finally Hume
delivered an even more serious blow by attributing the
notion of
causality
(and other relations
that serve to organize experience) to the
conceptual
habits of the human
knower. The final demolition of realism was
brought
about when Kant
suggested that the concepts of space and time were the
necessary forms of human experience, rather than
characteristics of the
universe. This meant
that we cannot even imagine what the structure of
the
real world might be
like, because whatever we call structure is
necessarily
an arrangement in
space, time, or both.
These are extremely
uncomfortable arguments. Philosophers have forever
tried to dismantle
them, but they have had little success. The arguments
are
uncomfortable because
they threaten a concept which we feel we cannot do
without. "Knowledge"
is something of which we are quite sure that we
have a
certain amount, and we are not prepared to relinquish it. The trouble
is
that throughout the
occidental history of ideas and right down to our own
days, two requisites have been considered fundamental in
any
epistemological
discussion of
knowledge. The first of these requisites demands that whatever
we would like to call "true knowledge" has to be
independent of the
knowing
subject. The second
requisite is that knowledge is to be taken seriously
only if it claims to represent a world of
"things-in-themselves" in a
more
or less veridical
fashion. In other words, it is tacitly taken for
granted
that a fully
structured and knowable world "exists" and that it is the
business of the
cognizing human subject to discover what that structure
is.
The weakness of the
sceptics' position lies in its polemical formulation.
It always sounds as though the traditional epistemologists' definition of
knowledge were the only possible one. Hence, when Montaigne says "la peste de
l'homme c'est l'opinion de savoir" (mankind's plague is the conceit of
knowing)[6],
it sounds as though we
ought to give up all knowing. But he
was
referring to
absolutistic claims of experiential knowledge and was
discussing
them in the context of
the traditional dogmatic belief that religious
revelation is unquestionable. He had in mind absolute
truth, and he was
castigating those who
claimed that a rational interpretation of
experience
(of which "scientific
observation" is, after all, a sophisticated form)
would lead to such
truth. He certainly did not intend to discredit the
kind of know-how that enabled his peasants to make a good
wine.
In short, what the
sceptics failed to stress was that, though no truths about a "real" world could
be derived from experience, experience nevertheless supplied a great deal of
useful knowledge.
THE CHANGED CONCEPT OF KNOWLEDGE
Unbeknownst to Kant, who in the 1780s hammered this limitation in with his
Critiques of pure and practical reason, Giambattista Vico had come to a very
similar conclusion in 1710. The human mind can know only what the
human mind has
made, was his slogan and, more like Piaget than Kant, he did not assume that
space and time were necessarily a priori categories, but suggested that they,
too, were human constructs (Vico, 1858).
Pursuing this way of thinking, one is led to what I have called "a
reconstruction of the concept of knowledge" (von Glasersfeld, 1985). Some
reconstruction is needed because, on the one hand, one can no longer maintain
that the cognizing activity should or could produce a true representation of an
objective world, and on the other, one does not want to end up with a
solipsistic form of idealism. The only way out, then, would seem to be a drastic
modification of the relation between the cognitive structures we build up and
that "real" world which we are inclined to assume as "existing" beyond our
perceptual interface.[7]
Instead of the illusory
relation of
"representation", one has to find a way of relating knowledge
to
reality that does not
imply anything like match or correspondence.
Neither Vico nor Kant
explicitly mentioned such a conceptual alternative. It was supplied, however, in
Darwin's theory of evolution by the concept of fit. Once this relational concept
has been stripped of its erroneous formulation in the slogan "survival of the
fittest" (cf. Pittendrigh, 1958; von Glasersfeld, 1980), it offers a way around
the paradox of the traditional theory of knowledge. As far as I know, this was
first suggested by Willam James (1880).[8]
Georg Simmel (1885)
elaborated it, and Aleksandr Bogdanov (1909) developed it into a comprehensive
instrumentalist epistemology. Hans Vaihinger (1913), who had been working at his
"Philosophy of As If" since the 1870s and who probably was quite unaware of Vico,
reintroduced the idea of conceptual construction.
PIAGET'S CONTRIBUTION
Today, in retrospect, these and other authors can be cited as "sources" of
constructivism. However, the great pioneer of the constructivist theory of
knowing today, Jean Piaget started from Kant and arrived at his view of
cognition as a biologist who looked at intelligence and knowledge as biological
functions whose development had to be explained and mapped in the ontogeny of
organisms.
In interpreting Piaget, it is important to remember that his publications range
over an astounding variety of topics and are spread over more than half a
century.[9]
As with any versatile and
original thinker, his ideas
did
not cease to develop and
change (Vuik, 1981). It is, therefore, not
surprising that one
can spot contradictions in his work. An obvious
instance
is his theory of stages, which was gradually superseded by his theory
of
equilibration (cf. Rowell, in
press). Thus it is not too difficult to
dismiss Piaget on the
strength of one or two quotations; or, what is even
more frequent, on the strength of what superficial
summarizers have said
about him. It is also
likely that arguments about what Piaget actually
believed will continue
and that different scholars will provide different
interpretations. In my view, the following basic principles
of radical
constructivism emerge quite
clearly if one tries to comprise as much as
possible of Piaget's
writings in one coherent theory
− but I would argue
for
these principles even
if they could be shown to diverge from Piaget's
thinking.
|
1
|
- a) |
Knowledge is not
passively received either through the senses or by
way of communication; |
|
|
- b) |
knowledge is
actively built up by the cognizing subject.
|
|
2
|
- a) |
The function of
cognition is adaptive, in the biological sense of
the term, tending towards fit or viability; |
|
|
- b) |
cognition serves
the subject's organization of the experiential
world, not the discovery of an objective ontological reality. |
One cannot adopt these
principles casually. If taken seriously, they
are
incompatible with the
traditional notions of knowledge, truth, and
objectivity, and they require a radical reconstruction of
one's concept
of
reality. Instead of an
inaccessible realm beyond perception and
cognition,
it now becomes the experiential world we actually live in. This world
is
not an unchanging independent
structure, but the result of distinctions
that
generate a physical
and a social environment to which, in turn, we adapt
as
best we can.
Consequently, one cannot
adopt the constructivist principles as an
absolute truth, but only as a working hypothesis that may
or may not turn
out
to be viable. This is
the main reason why the constructivist orientation
is
unequivocally
post-epistemological (Noddings, this volume).
THE CONCEPT OF VIABILITY
To relinquish the
inveterate belief that knowledge must eventually represent something that lies
beyond our experience is, indeed, a frightening step to take. It constitutes a
feat of decentering that is even more demanding than the one accomplished by a
few outstanding thinkers in the 16th century who realized that the earth was not
the center of the universe. Because it goes against an age-old habit, it is
immensely difficult to accept that, no matter how well we can predict the
results of
certain actions we take or the "effects" of certain "causes" we observe, this
must never be interpreted as a proof that we have discovered how the "real"
world works.[10]
The key to this insight lies
in what Piaget formulated in the phrase
"l'objet se laisse faire" ("the object allows itself to be
treated"; 1970;
p.35) At the symposium on the occasion of his 80th birthday
he repeated
the
phrase and explained
it further: "When one comes to have a true theory,
this
is because the object
permitted it; which amounts to saying that it
contained something
analogous to my actions." (Inhelder et al. 1977;
p.64)
In this context
−
as in so many in Piaget's works
−
it is important to
remember that an
"object" is never a thing-in-itself for Piaget, but
something that the
cognizing subject has constructed by making
distinctions
and coordinations in his or her perceptual field
(Piaget, 1937).
That is all very well, one
might say, but how does it come about that the reality we construct is in many
ways remarkably stable? And, one might also ask why, if we ourselves construct
our experiential reality, can we not construct any reality we might like? The
first question was answered in a categorical way by George Kelly: "To the living
creature, then, the universe is real, but it is not inexorable unless he chooses
to construe it that way" (1955; p. 8). The living creature, be it fish, fowl, or
human, thrives by abstracting regularities and rules from experience that
enable it to avoid disagreeable situations and, to some extent, to generate
agreeable ones. This "abstracting of regularities" is always the result of
assimilation. No experience is ever the same as another in the absolute sense.
Repetition and, consequently, regularity can be obtained only by disregarding
certain differences. This notion of assimilation is at the
core of Piaget's
scheme theory. No schemes could be developed if the organism could not isolate
situations in which a certain action leads to a desirable result. It is the
focus on the result that distinguishes a scheme from a reflex and makes possible
the form of learning that Piaget called accommodation. It takes place when a
scheme does not lead to the expected result. This produces a perturbation, and
the perturbation may lead either to
a modification of the pattern that was abstracted as the "triggering situation"
or to a modification of the action. All this, I want to emphasize, concerns the
experiential world of the acting organism, not any "external" reality. And the
patterns a cognizing organism can and does abstract from experience depend on
the operations of distinction and coordination the organism can and does
carry out.[11]
This was brilliantly
demonstrated for a
variety of organisms more than fifty years ago by
Jakob von Uexküll (1933/1970).
The second question
− why we cannot construct any reality we like
−
can
be raised only if the
concept of viability is misunderstood or ignored.
The
absurdity of solipsism
stems from the denial of any relation between
knowledge and an
experiencer-independent world.
Radical Constructivism
has
been careful to stress
that all action, be it physical or conceptual, is
subject to constraints. I can no more walk through the desk
in front of
me
than I can argue that
black is white at one and the same time. What
constrains me, however,
is not quite the same in the two cases. That the
desk
constitutes an
obstacle to my physical movement is due to the particular
distinctions my sensory system enables me to make and to
the particular
way
in which I have come
to coordinate them. Indeed, if I now could walk
through
the desk, it would no longer fit the abstraction I have made in
prior experience. This, I think, is simple enough. What is not so simple is the
realization that the
fact that I am able to make the particular
distinctions
and coordinations and
establish their permanence in my experiential
world,
does not tell me anything other than the fact that it is one of the
things
my experiential
reality allows me to do. Using a spatial metaphor, I have
at
times expressed this
by saying that the viability of an action shows no
more
than that the "real"
world leaves us room to act in that way. Conversely,
when my actions fail
and I am compelled to make a physical or conceptual
accommodation, this does not warrant the assumption that my
failure
reveals something that
"exists" beyond my experience. Whatever obstacle I
might conjecture, can
be described only in terms of my own actions. (In
this
context, it is
important to remember that the constructivist theory
holds
that perception is not
passive, but under all circumstances the result of
action; cf. Piaget, 1969.)
The constraints that
preclude my saying that black is white are, of
course, not physical
but conceptual. The way we use symbols to handle
abstractions we have made from experience, requires among
other things
that
we exclude
contradiction (cf. von Glasersfeld, in press). Consistency, in
maintaining semantic links and in avoiding contradictions,
is an
indispensable condition of what I would call our "rational game".
THE QUESTION OF CERTAINTY
The domain of mathematics
is in some sense the epitome of the
rational
game. The certainty of mathematical results has often been brought up
as
an
argument against
constructivism.
To indicate that the
theoretical infallibility of mathematical
operations
(in practice, mistakes
may, of course, occur) cannot be claimed as proof
that
these operations give
access to an ontological reality, I have compared
this
generation of
certainty to the game of chess. At the painful moment when
you
discover that your
opponent can put you into a "checkmate" position, you
have no way of
doubting it and your shock is as real as any shock can be.
Yet, it is obvious that
the certainty you are experiencing springs from
nothing but the
conceptual relations that constitute the rules of the
game;
and it is equally
obvious that these conceptual relations are absolute
in
the sense that if I
broke them and thus destroyed the certainty they
generate, I would no longer be playing that particular
game.
The comparison with chess
has caused remonstrations, and I would like
to
clarify my position. I
still believe that the certainty in mathematics
springs from the same
conceptual source, but this does not mean that I
hold
mathematics to be like
chess in other ways. The biggest difference is
that
the elements to which
the rules of chess apply are all
specific to the game.
Flesh and blood kings cannot be put into "mate"
positions, equestrian
knights move unlike their chess namesakes, and
living
queens show their power in ways that are inconceivable on the chess
board.
In contrast, the elements
to which the rules of mathematics are applied,
are
not free inventions.
In counting, for example, the elements start out
as
ordinary things that
have been abstracted from ordinary experience, and
the
basic abstract
concepts, such as "oneness" and "plurality", have a life
of
their own before they
are incorporated in the realm of mathematics. It is
precisely this
connection with everyday experience and conceptual
practice
that leads to the contention that mathematics "reflects" the real
world.
The "imagined world of lines and numbers" of which Vico speaks in the
quotation I have put
at the beginning of this essay, is in no sense an
arbitrary world. At the roots of the vast network of
mathematical
abstractions are the simple
operations that allow us to perceive discrete
items in the field of
our experience, and simple relational concepts that
allow us to unite them
as "units of units". On subsequent levels of
abstraction, the
representations of sensory-motor material of everyday
experience (Piaget's "figurative" elements) drop out, and
what remains
is
the purely
"operative", i.e., abstractions from operations.
None of this is developed
in a free, wholly arbitrary fashion. Every
individual's abstraction of experiential items is
constrained (and thus
guided) by social
interaction and the need of collaboration and
communication with
other members of the group in which he or she grows
up.
No individual can afford
not to establish a relative fit with the consensual domain of the social
environment.[12]
An
analogous development takes place with regard to mathematics, but here the
social interaction specifically involves those who are active in that field. The
consensual domain into which the individual must learn to fit
is that of
mathematicians, teachers, and other adults insofar as they practice mathematics.
The process of adaptation is the same as in other social domains, but there is
an important difference in the way the degree of adaptation can be assessed. In
the domain of everyday living, fit can be demonstrated by sensory-motor evidence
of successful interaction (e.g. when an individual asked to buy apples, returns
with items that the other recognizes as apples). The only observable
manifestation of the demand as well as of the response, in the abstract reaches
of the domain of mathematics, are symbols of operations. The operations
themselves remain unobservable. Understanding can therefore never be
demonstrated by the presentation of results that may have been acquired by rote
learning.[13]
This is one of the reasons
why mathematics teachers often insist (to
the
immense boredom of the
students) on the exact documentation of the
algorithm
by means of which the result was obtained. The flaw in this procedure
is
that any documentation of an
algorithm is again a sequence of symbols
which
in themselves do not
demonstrate the speaker's or writer's understanding
of
the symbolized
operations. Hence, the production of such a sequence, too,
may be the result of rote learning.
Other contributions to
this volume will illustrate how a
constructivist
approach to instruction deals with this problem. They will
also show that
the
constructivist teacher
does not give up his or her role as a guide
−
but
this leadership takes
the form of encouraging and orienting the students'
constructive effort
rather than curtailing their autonomy by presenting
ready-made results as the only permitted path.
Here, I would merely
stress the sharp distinction which, in my view,
has to be made between teaching and training. The first
aims at the
students' conceptual fit with
the consensual domain of the particular
field,
a fit which, from the
teacher's perspective, constitutes understanding.
The
second aims at the
students' behavioral fit which, from the teacher's
perspective,
constitutes acceptable performance. This is not to say,
that
rote learning and the
focus on adequate performance should have no place
in
constructively
oriented instruction. But it does mean that, where the domain of mathematics is
concerned, instruction that focuses on performance
alone can be no better
than trivial.
CONCLUDING REMARKS
If one seriously wants to
adopt the radical constructivist
orientation,
the changes of thinking and of attitudes one has to make
are formidable.
It
is also far from easy
to maintain them consequentially. Much like
physical
habits, old ways of
thinking are slow to die out and tend to return
surreptitiously.
In everyday living we
don't risk much if we continue to speak of
lovely
sunsets and say that tomorrow the sun will rise at such and such a
time
−
even though we now hold that it is the earth that moves and not
the
sun. Similarly, there is no
harm in speaking of knowledge, mathematical
and
other, as though it
had ontological status and could be "objective" in
that
sense; as a way of
speaking this is virtually inevitable in the social
interactions of everyday life. But when we let scientific
knowledge turn
into belief and begin
to think of it as unquestionable dogma, we are on a
dangerous slope.
The critics of Copernicus
who argued that his system must be "wrong"
because it denied that
the earth is the center of the universe, could not
claim to be "scientific"
−
they argued in that way for
political and
religious reasons.
Science, as Bellarmino pointed out, produces
hypotheses,
and as such, they may
or may not be useful. Their use may also be temporary. The science we have
today, holds that neither the earth nor
the
sun has a privileged
position in the universe. Like the contemporary
philosophers of
science, constructivists have tried to learn from that
development and to
give up the traditional
conception of knowledge as a
"true" representation of an experiencer-independent state of affairs.
That
is why radical
constructivism does not claim to have found an ontological
truth but merely proposes a hypothetical model that may
turn out to be a
useful one.
Let me conclude with a
remark that is not particularly relevant to
the
teaching of
mathematics but might be considered by educators in general.
Throughout the two
thousand five hundred years of Western epistemology,
the
accepted view has been
a realist view. According to it, the human knower
can attain some knowledge of a really existing world and
can use this
knowledge to modify it.
People tended to think of the world as governed
by a
God who would not let
it go under. Then faith shifted from God to science
and the world that science was mapping was called "Nature"
and believed
to
be ultimately
understandable and controllable. Yet, it was also believed
to be so immense that
mankind could do no significant harm to it. Today, one
does not have to look
far to see that this attitude has endangered the
world we are actually experiencing.
If the view is
adopted that "knowledge" is the conceptual means to
make
sense of experience,
rather than a "representation" of something that
is
supposed to lie beyond
it, this shift of perspective brings with it an
important corollary:
the concepts and relations in terms of which we
perceive and conceive the experiential world we live in are
necessarily generated by ourselves. In this sense it is we who are responsible
for
the
world we are
experiencing. As I have reiterated many times, radical
constructivism does not suggest that we can construct
anything we like,
but
it does claim that
within the constraints that limit our construction
there
is room for an infinity of alternatives. It therefore does not seem
untimely
to suggest a theory of
knowing that draws attention to the knower's
responsibility for what the knower constructs.
REFERENCES
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de'Letterati d'Italia, 5(6). (reprinted in Vico, 1858; p.
137-140 ).
Bogdanov, A. (1909) Science and philosophy. In (anonymous editor),
Essays on the philosophy of collectivism, Vol.1. St.
Petersburg.
Diels, H. (1957) Die Vorsokratiker. Hamburg: Rowohlt.
Feyerabend, P.
(1987) Farewell to reason. London/New York: Verso.
Inhelder, B.,
Garcia, R., & Voneche, J. (1977) Epistemologie
genetique et equilibration.
Neuchatel/Paris: Delachauz et Niestle.
James, W. (1880), Great men, great thoughts, and
the environment, Atlantic
Monthly, 46, 441-459.
Kelly, G.A. (1955)
A theory of personality - The psychology of personal
constructs. New York: Norton.
Kitchener, R. (1989), Genetic epistemology and the
prospects for a cognitive sociology of science: A
critical synthesis, Social Epistemology, 3(2), 153-169.
Maturana, H. (1980) Biology and cognition. In
H.Maturana & F. Varela, Autopoiesis: The organization of
the living. Dordrecht: Reidel.
Montaigne, Michel
de (1972) Essais, Vol.2. Paris: Librairie Generale
Francaise.
Piaget, J. (1937 La construction du reel chez
l'enfant. Neuchatel: Delachaux et Niestle.
Piaget, J. (1969)
Mechanisms of perception. (Translation by
G.N.Seagrim) New York: Basic Books.
Piaget, J. (1970)
Le structuralisme. Paris: Presses Universitaires de
France.
Pittendrigh, C.S. (1958), Adaptation, natural
selection, and
behavior. In A.Roe & G.G.Simpson (Eds.),
Behavior and evolution. New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press.
Plato, Great dialogues of Plato (1956). New York:
New American Library.
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FOOTNOTES
1. Vico's reply to his critics, included in
the 2nd edition of De Antiquissima Italorum Sapientia, 1711; reprinted in Vico
(1858) p.143. [back]
2. De Antiquissima Italorum Sapientia,
Naples, 1710; reprinted with Italian translation, 1858.
[back]
3. Giornale de'Letterati d'Italia, 1711,
vol.V, article VI; reprinted in Vico (1858), p. 137.
[back]
4. cf. Hermann Diels (1957), Xenophanes,
fragment 34. [back]
5. cf. Plato's "The Republic" in Great
Dialogues of Plato (1956), p. 312ff.
[back]
6. Montaigne wrote this in his Apologie de
Raymond Sebond (1575-76); cf.
Essais, 1972, vol.2,, p.139. [back]
7. Though most philosophers, today, would
agree that the ontological realm
is perceptually inaccessible, they balk at Kant's suggestion that it is
also conceptually inaccessible to us. They are therefore still stuck
with the paradox that they have no way of showing the truth of the
ontological claims they make. [back]
8. This reference was brought to my
attention by a personal
communication from Jacques Voneche
(Geneva, 1985). [back]
9. See, for instance, Kitchener's recent
article (1989) on Piaget's early
work on the role of social interaction and exchange.
[back]
10. Paul Feyerabend's recent comment (1987)
on the famous letter Cardinal Bellarmino wrote in the
context of Galileo's trial, makes this
point in exemplary fashion: "To use modern terms: astronomers are
entirely safe when saying that a model has predictive
advantages over another model, but they get into trouble
when asserting that it is therefore a faithful image of
reality. Or, more generally: the fact that a model works
does not by itself show that reality is structured like the model"
(p.250). [back]
11. The focus on "operations of
distinction" is a major contribution of
Humberto Maturana's biological approach to cognition (1980); the notion
as such, however, is implicit in much of Piaget's work,
e.g,, his
Mechanisms of Perception (1969).
[back]
12. Lest this be interpreted as a
concession to realism, let me point out that, in the
constructivist view, the term "environment" always refers
to the environment as experientially constructed by the particular
subject, not to an "objective" external world.
[back]
13. Thinking, conceptual development,
understanding, and meaning are located in someone's head
and are never directly observable. A
formidable confusion was generated by the behaviorist program
that tried to equate meaning with
observable response. [back] |