Hume’s philosophy of the self – A.E. Pitson

London: Routledge, 2002

Pages: 196 + xii

 

            Pitson’s book is built around two connected ideas. One idea is that Hume’s account of personal identity falls directly out of Hume’s more general ‘atomistic’ approach to epistemology and philosophy of mind. The other idea is that it’s a mistake to take Hume’s account of personal identity to be complete by the end of Book One of the Treatise. Pitson’s view on this—compare Annette Baier—is that a proper understanding of Hume’s full philosophy of the self depends on reading on into Books Two and Three. Pitson rightly emphasizes Hume’s regrettable failure in Book One to question the Cartesian assumption that the ‘mental’ aspect of the self can be more or less exhuastively understood through understanding what kind of thing the mind is (a ‘bundle’ -- or ‘system’, to use Pitson’s preferred term -- as opposed to a kind of substance (p.21)). But one must not stop there.

So it would be ironic if Pitson’s readers were tempted by force of habit to read only the first half of his book, the part that deals with Treatise Book One. And not only ironic, but regrettable; for the second half of Pitson’s book makes a strong case for his main thesis.

Central to Pitson’s argument is a distinction made by Hume at Treatise 1.4.6, between “personal identity, as it regards our thought or imagination, and as it regards our passion or the concern we take in ourselves.” On Pitson’s reading, this passage distinguishes what he calls the agency and the mental aspects of the self; and Hume is traduced if we take his account of the mental aspect to be his whole story about the self. There is surely something right about this; the agency aspect, consideration of which perhaps more naturally leads our thoughts in a ‘forensic’ direction, has indeed too often been ignored by previous writers on the subject (p.1, p.160). Pitson’s discussion of Montaigne’s relevance to Hume in this connection (see e.g. p.105) is especially illuminating.

In the rest of this review, let me briefly indicate four lines of thought that Pitson’s book opened up for me.

Contemporary relevance. Pitson promises to show the “significant relevance to contemporary discussions of the self” of Hume’s discussion (p.1). What he says about this is interesting, but tantalising. For example: Pitson compares Hume’s scepticism about the realizability of our ambition to solve the mind-body problem, with Thomas Nagel’s and Colin McGinn’s scepticism about that ambition. But Pitson’s discussion (for which see, especially, his p.56) left me wanting much more—for instance, about whether Hume really has the resources to render intelligible even extension, never mind extension and its relation to thought; and about the Cartesian and Humean roots of McGinn’s and Nagel’s approaches.

In the Appendix to the Treatise, Hume tells us that the issue of personal identity is the “one article” in which he has been able to discover a “very considerable mistake” in his reasoning. Pitson comments that this “shows that whatever the source of Hume’s second thoughts about personal identity might be, it is not something that infects his treatment of the other issues with which he is concerned in Book 1 of the Treatise”. Does not in fact infect Hume’s other treatments; or does not in Hume’s view – does not to Hume’s knowledge -- infect his other treatments? If Hume’s thought is as seamless a cloth as Pitson takes it to be, we might doubt whether Hume’s first thoughts about other issues can be thus insulated from his second thoughts about personal identity—even if Hume did not see the problems.

Philosophy and psychopathology. Can “melancholy and delirium” be separated from Hume’s philosophy? (From any serious philosophy?) Pitson describes how the unity of consciousness can be taken as a given—“perhaps one should add, normally” (p.52). It seems a pity that, in a monograph on Hume and the self, psychopathology enters in only in ways such as this: parenthetically, in the margins. For there is now in philosophy an increasing willingness to discuss the (alleged) pathologies of philosophy and what we might, after the model of ‘philosophical psychology’, call ‘philosophical psychopathology’—a development Hume would surely have welcomed. Moreover, a number of Hume’s own views are text-book symptoms of serious psychopathologies: for instance, believing that there is “no absurdity in separating any particular perception from the mind” (quoted on p.167).)

Buddhism. In a book-length treatment of Hume’s philosophy of the self, it might have been interesting to explore the striking parallels between Hume and Buddhism. At Treatise 1.4.6 Hume argues that “If any impression gives rise to the idea of self, that impression must continue invariably the same, thro’ the whole course of our lives; since self is suppos’d to exist after that manner. But there is no impression constant and invariable.” Compare the Buddhist arguments for a thorough and continual undermining of any substantial or objectual notion of the self, and for the conclusion that a strong impression of self is only found in the deluded—i.e. in most of us, most of the time, especially those afflicted with serious psychopathologies.

Pitson writes engagingly (if briefly) of the contrast between “the atomistic view of experience to which Hume is committed” and James’s “continuous stream” view of consciousness (p.75). He adds that to reject Hume’s atomism about experience “would be to reject the whole framework within which his account of human nature…is developed.” Quite right, I think; though here Hume might retreat to an atomism which is merely methodological. This is exactly what some versions of Buddhism (e.g. Soto Zen) offer.

Was Hume looking in the wrong place for ‘personal identity’? The main thought I have after reading Pitson is a suspicion that Hume simply searched in the wrong place for personal identity. It looks sometimes, for example in his “second thoughts”, as if Hume is moving towards something like a transcendental view of the self, as something that has to be presupposed in our thinking. Maybe Pitson would have at least some sympathy with my suspicion; maybe he would even favour a project of bringing Hume’s views on personal identity into closer relations with Kant’s and Wittgenstein’s.

Be that as it may, this is a thorough and impressive monograph, a resolutely scholarly work in the philosophical history of philosophy. It will probably be for some time the definitive treatment of this topic in the literature.

 

Rupert Read

University of East Anglia