Multiculturalism and 'The Politics of Recognition.'

According to Charles Taylor, professor of philosophy and political science at McGill University, modern moral philosophy, and much of modernity itself, is in a state of deep conceptual confusion. If we wish to restore clarity to our thinking both about ourselves and our values in the modern age, says Taylor, we must clearly understand the course of intellectual history that has led to our current crisis. Taylor's Sources of the Self (Harvard), published in 1989, attempted to chart this history and to chronicle, according to its subtitle, "The Making of the Modern Identity ." In Sources, Taylor argued that modern moral philosophy was premised on a denuded conception of the self which utterly neglected the importance to our identities of what he called "strong evaluations' '--a shorthand term for the various ideals which, for each of us, make life worth living. Because it fails to account for the importance of these ideals, he claimed, modern philosophy tends to exhibit deep confusion in its approach to moral problems. His goal in Sources, then, was to show where moral philosophy had gone wrong and to make it more responsive to our lives by restoring a richer and more humane conception of the self.

In The Ethics of Authenticity, Taylor again employs the method of historical reconstruction, this time in order to account for what he calls the "three malaises" of modernity: the widespread loss of meaning, the belief that there can be no reasoned argument about values, and the increasingly bleak prospects for healthy self-government in the age of special-interest politics. The bulk of the book, however, is devoted to the first malaise. Taylor begins by connecting the onset of this existential uncertainty with the rise of individualism, consciously echoing themes put forth by those he identifies as the "knockers" of modernity (figures like Allan Bloom and Christopher Lasch) who see the age of individualism as bound up with a value relativism that leads inevitably to a culture of narcissism. But Taylor is unwilling to go along with what he sees as the knockers' blanket condemnation of the rise of individualism, and against them he maintains that modernity's emphasis on individualism embodies a valuable ideal which we should not lose sight of. According to Taylor, the rise of individualism grew out of an ideal of authenticity which can be traced back to Rousseau and Herder and which originally embodied the ideal of a higher life, premised on the possibility of a distinction between what we actually desire and what we ought to desire.

But over time, argues Taylor, this evaluative element disappeared and the ideal of authenticity was corrupted: the notion of an external standard which we should strive to live up to was replaced by the self-confirming, vacuous idea of choice as a good in itself. But as Taylor forcefully argues, this notion of choice as a good in itself, independent of external standards, leads ultimately to a sense of meaninglessness, for in order to feel that my choice is genuinely significant, I must acknowledge a standard external to myself, a "horizon of significance" against which I can be measured. As Taylor says, "Which issues are significant, I do not determine. If I did, no issue would be significant." These horizons of significance, Taylor suggests, are constrncted not monologically but dialogically, in conversation with my culture, my tradition, my peers, and so on, and in devaluing these ties individualism further leads to a sense that the self is isolated and, in the end, insignificant.

Having explored in some depth the first malaise, Taylor claims to have made some inroads into overcoming the second malaise as well, for he has shown by example that reasoned argument has a place in discussions about values. He also offers a glimmer of hope for the rather dismal and fragmented state of contemporary politics (the third malaise), suggesting that we must broaden our conception of what the political process is about and must move beyond a model of adversary politics centering around individual fights, toward a greater recognition of issues relating to the common good.

The value of opening ourselves to alternative conceptions is also one of Taylor's chief concerns in his extended essay "The Politics of Recognition" (which is published along with four commentary essays). Here he covers some of the same ground as in Authenticity, the major difference being that it contains a close analysis of two practical issues: legislation recognizing the special status of French-speaking Quebeckers, and multiculturalism.

While his discussion of each of these topics is instructive, his comments about multiculturalism in particular demonstrate his knack for finding sensible middle ground between unreasonable extremes. Against multiculturalism's strongest opponents, he points out that the study of other cultures promises greater understanding not only of those cultures but of our own as well. But he is skeptical as well of the radical multiculturalist's claim that all cultures are equally worthy. The problem with this view, as Taylor astutely points out, is that judgments about the worth of any culture (our own included) ought to follow from our study of that culture; the radical multiculturalist, however, presupposes the answer which our study is, or ought to be, in search of. While we should start from "a presumption of equal worth" when confronting other cultures, says Taylor, multiculturalism must allow that we may find other cultures to be as valuable as our own, less so, or more so. As in the case of individualism, there is a need for external standards when making cross-cultural evaluations as well.

Much of what Taylor says in these two works is, I think, eminently reasonable and worth listening to. Though he is not a particularly memorable stylist, his writing here is clear, direct, and refreshingly free of philosophical jargon. He is also delightfully nonpartisan; his sights are set wide, and both the "Right" and the "Left" come under his fire. Indeed, one of the great virtues of Taylor's broad-minded approach is that it suggests the limitations inherent in these traditional designations.

But while I am largely sympathetic to his viewpoint, I suspect there is a dilemma looming behind much of Taylor's argument which may ultimately doom any attempt to find middle ground between the boosters and the knockers of individualism. The horns of the dilemma are these: If I sincerely believe that certain objective standards are binding upon me independent of my will, it follows that I will be more inclined to hold you to these standards and less likely to accept your arguments for failing to live up to them; thus, the threat to freedom. If, on the other hand, I respect your fight to live according to the ideals you choose, it appears that in doing so I see your act of choice as itself bestowing value; thus, the specter of meaninglessness. In the end, then, we must face the possibility that between these poles, there may simply be no middle ground.

But we should not fault Taylor for failing to resolve this dilemma, for it is not his alone but belongs to our age. At a time in human history when the meaning of our lives appears more problematic than ever before, we may be expected to feel that even in our clearest moments of understanding we do little more than see through a glass, darkly. Taylor cannot make that glass clear, for he is only human, but his efforts go some way to making things seem a bit less dim. For that alone, he merits our serious attention.