John Kaag

My far too long “to read” list has long included “books on American pragmatism”. So, I didn’t hesitate when I saw this beautifully published book in my bookstore. William James (1842-1910) is nothing less than the father of that philosophical movement, and so I hoped to score a nice introduction here. Unfortunately, John Kaag may have intended this as an introduction, in practice it has become more of a self-help book. Of course, I could have suspected that, based on the subtitle. show more
Kaag, himself a specialist in pragmatic philosophy, zooms in on James’ personal life, especially the man’s many existential struggles, and he also connects them with his own struggles, including suicidal thoughts. You may find this courageous or repellent, but it distracted me from my question of what James and pragmatism stand for. “Truth is what works”, is the classic summary of that philosophy. And, of course, I already knew that this is a rather simplistic summary. Kaag only gets around to providing some explanation on this towards the end of his book. But what about everything that precedes it? I don't know. Perhaps it is commendable to present the winding path of a genius (James, that is, Kaag does his best to attribute a more average level to himself) to demonstrate that you can indeed cut through fundamental existential knots by thinking calmly and especially by reasoning hands-on, and thus reach the light from the darkness. Again, I don't know. I - who am rather optimistic by nature - had little use for this. So, I will have to take another look at the rest of my "to read" list. show less

Eager to expand my shallow perception of Nietzsche as a grandiose, progressively insane anti-Semite--he was not an anti-Semite--I picked up this book as an accessible, approachable way of learning more. Sadly, the book only confirmed Nietzsche as the avatar of modern self-absorption and the godfather of the Ayn Rand types who see most ordinary human beings, as Nietzsche did, as "sheep." I write this with regret, as I really wanted my negative opinion to be overturned, and to learn to admire show more Nietzsche's intellectual boldness. John Kaag seemed to be the perfect guide by whom to be set right: his candid, confessional style is hard not to like. (He's the kind of guy who can talk about aspiring to become the Übermensch and seem humble about it.) But get this: Kaag, who by his own account nearly died in a foolish teenage climbing stunt, returns as a 36-year-old with wife and young daughter in tow to the same location, to more or less repeat the experience. No, he doesn't want to die, but he does leave his family without telling his wife which path he's taking into the mountains, and at least once leaves wife and daughter all day and into the evening after promising to be back at lunchtime.

I guess I'm against Nietzsche, and Kaag, because I'm with the sheep: I admire the ordinary, decent people who live and die in obscurity, after lives of service to those who depend on them and love them. show less

Kaag’s book is unusual, and it takes on what I think is a worthy goal — re-marrying philosophical thought with the personal life of the philosopher. Kaag recounts a difficult period of his life and intertwines it with his exploration of the neglected (and astonishingly impressive) library left behind by early twentieth century American philosopher William Ernest Hocking.

Hocking’s library contains not only rare first editions of classical philosophical works, such as Hobbes’ show more Leviathan, but books with marginal, handwritten notes by philosophers like William James, and personal correspondence with James, Josiah Royce, Jane Addams, Pearl Buck, . . . pretty much the entire intellectual life of Hocking’s time in America. And Hocking’s personal relationship with so many of the authors brings their thoughts into living presence in Kaag’s mind.

The narrative begins, in the Prologue, with Kaag’s thoughts on James’ address, “Is Life Worth Living?” Kaag is in a depressed period of life, with an unhappy marriage, an apparent drinking problem, and a general lack of interest in life.

His discovery of Hocking’s library at West Wind, outside of Boston, turns things around. It would be tempting to say that he begins two journeys in the library, one through the history of American philosophy via Hocking’s books and correspondence, and the other through his own rebirth, but Kaag’s point is that the two journeys are really just one — echoing a quote he cites from American philosopher C. S. Peirce — “. . . philosophy should be woven into the conduct of life.”

Kaag finds a thread through all of American philosophy, at least until the analytic tradition became dominant in the mid-1900s, that insists, somewhat like the existentialists, that life be understood from the first person point of view. Life is something lived, not just observed, and philosophical insight should, seek to influence and guide life, not just understand it. It should be an essential part of that first person conduct of life, not just the third person description of life in a traditional “philosophical system.”

He quotes Thoreau, from the first page of Walden — “We commonly do not remember that it is, after all, always the first person that is speaking [even in philosophy and science]. I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience.”

For Kaag, the ability to share his life with another person becomes both the philosophical problem of solipsism and the very real problem posed by the dissolution of his first marriage. Solipsism, in most philosophical treatments, is a very abstract problem — how can we actually know of the existence of other minds, given that we have direct access only to our own?

Few philosophers would take such doubts into their personal lives. But Kaag treats it as his personal problem, his challenge to share his own life with someone else and share that person’s life with them. Solipsism, by no coincidence, is a target of one of Hocking’s own principal works, The Meaning of God.

Hocking had apparently written The Meaning of God in (uncredited) collaboration with his wife Agnes. Kaag, in parallel, invites a colleague, Carol Hay (just “Carol” in the book), to join him in exploring Hocking’s library. Kaag’s relationship with Carol becomes, along with his intellectual journey, his way out of solipsism.

I think the book’s success lies in Kaag’s ability to convey how those two journeys are really just one, and consequently, how philosophy and life can be a single journey.

Aside from praising what Kaag does here, I have to say it’s ironic that Kaag is the sole author, and not co-author with Carol, that the book reads as individual autobiography, with only his thoughts (and those of the philosophers and other authors whose thoughts are preserved in Hocking’s library) expressed.

Philosophy really is rarely written as a collaboration, unlike many other academic disciplines. Philosophy is born in collaborative discussion, but officially authored as if in isolation. There are exceptions, like Whitehead and Russell. I suppose you might even make a case for Plato and Socrates. But even imagining coming to common terms on the validity and aptness of arguments, the nuances of phrasing and limiting claims, . . . it’s hard enough for one person to come to peaceful terms with what they have written, much less more than one. Maybe that’s one of philosophy’s own limitations. show less

Is life worth living? If you are a “sick soul” (using William James’s terminology) the best you can hope to say is, “maybe.” Sick souls are predisposed to focusing on the negative aspects of life and suffer with a temperament that leads to bouts of depression and existential dread. This was certainly the case with James (he contemplated suicide more than once) and, apparently, also with John Kaag.

But this makes Kaag the ideal author for this book, as he provides a more personal show more account of James’s philosophy than you are likely to find in the more academic treatments. For James, Kaag, and others, philosophy is not a trivial exercise or a “language game”; rather, it’s a matter of life or death.

Kaag shows how James’s pragmatism can help people reaffirm their will to live by providing a philosophical system of hope and action based on the foundational belief in free will. The reader will learn why they should believe in free will, how to overcome negative emotions, and how to use mental habits and behaviors to create positive self-fulfilling prophecies. At the least, this will provide some useful pointers, and, at best, may end up making someone's life a lot more bearable.

Whether one finds this book inspiring or not will largely depend on their temperament and also on their thoughts on pragmatism in general. Pragmatism, of course, is not without its problems; the idea that one’s beliefs are true because they produce what that person deems to be useful consequences does not, in general, hold up to critical scrutiny. On the other hand, in regard to complex topics like free will, where the evidence is inconclusive, consequences might in fact become relevant where empirical evidence fails.

Wherever you stand on the issue, there is no question that Kaag has given pragmatism—and James’s philosophy more specifically—its most charitable and useful interpretation. show less