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A special gold-coloured cover for the Summer 1963
issue of The Philosopher marked the Society's Golden Jubilee, replacing
the customary green which had long been, and continued to be, a distinguishing
colour of the Society - as witness the green facings on the (now controversial)
A.Ph.S. gown and green academic hood for Fellows. (Actually, the hood had
already been controversial before Professor Ryle's letter, after being
'banned from use in the diocese', by a certain bishop, because of alleged
similarity to the University of Leeds B.A. hood.)
But the low-key 50th anniversary was typical of the Society's
fortunes at that time. To a newcomer, it exuded the atmosphere of a once-revered,
learned body fallen on hard times. Eking out an obscure existence, remembering
past glories but no longer able to match them, like someone in genteel
poverty trying to preserve a former status and dignity. The days of the
active involvement of such as Bertrand Russell and C.E.M. Joad were still
alive in the memory of those who kept the Society going, but where were
those days now?
A few distinguished names still graced the Society. Professors
George Catlin and John MacMurray, Sir Cyril Burt, and the Dean of St. Paul's,
the Very Rev. W. R. Matthews, were Vice-Presidents; and the Rt. Rev. F.
R. Barry, Bishop of Southwell, was an Honorary Fellow. The last two were
the eminent authors of books on Christian Apologetics and Christian Ethics
respectively. Other than lending their names to the Society, however, they
took no active part.
The President at the time was the Rev. Dr F. H. Cleobury.
A former high-ranking Civil Servant, he had gained a London Ph.D. in later
life with a thesis on the 'bearing of Philosophy on Christian Theism' and
became, in two apparently influential books, a noted advocate of the case
for a return to a Natural Theology based on rational grounds for belief
in God. Now in his retirement years, as a parish priest in Hertfordshire,
he could be said to embody in himself the spirit which had originally brought
the Society into being: that of the amateur philosopher prepared to apply
himself with intellectual rigour to the pursuit of scholarship.
He also exemplified what, to judge from the preponderance
of articles and reviews in The Philosopher, appeared to be the guiding
light of the Society at that time: a preoccupation with exploring and expounding
the metaphysics of Christianity. In fact, an unusually high proportion
of the Society's membership in those days seems to have been clergy and
ministers of various Christian denominations. The question arises: was
it the Society's obvious interest in theology that drew such members to
it, or was it the other way round - that a large number of Churchmen in
its ranks and leadership transformed and determined the main topics of
discussion?
Wherever the answer lies, there lurks the - perhaps unkind
- suspicion that the attraction of the Society for at least some clergy
and ministers in the years preceding this period, may have had something
to do with the award of the Society's Associateship and Fellowship diplomas.
In the days when opportunities for degrees were much rarer than now (this
was before the advent of the Open University and the subsequent explosion
of higher education) there must have been ordained men, trained in theological
colleges to the minimum certificate standard laid down by their denominations,
who felt disadvantaged in standing up in front of their congregations and
in the company of their more privileged graduate colleagues without an
academic hood, or whose headed notepaper looked bare without letters after
their name. 'A.Ph.S.' and 'F.Ph.S.', with their gowns and, in the latter
case, a hood as well! may well have seemed a desirable and achievable way
of making up the deficiency. And at the time these qualifications were
relatively easy to come by - not, it must be stressed, in any underhanded
way such as merely buying the awards, but because the Society's examination
structure was, it has to be admitted, fairly undemanding.
The quarter-century covered by this chapter is, in effect,
the story of a few dedicated personalities. In the first place there were
those long-standing office-holders and Council members, most with little
or no qualification or practice in philosophy as a discipline, who faithfully
carried on, keeping the day-to-day affairs of the Society going. Their
selfless loyalty was admirable, even as one wonders at their motivation.
What was their conception of philosophy, what was their expectation of
it and their reward - apart from the attraction and satisfaction of being
at the helm of what they liked to feel was still a distinguished body with
congenial objects?
Secondly, there were a few new arrivals in the Society's
ranks, with some background in academic philosophy, who quickly saw the
need to breathe new life into a body which perhaps, to them, was in a run-down
state of mediocrity and to restore some academic credibility to it. They
readily recognised the special nature of the Society - that it had never
been meant to be a high-powered and rarefied equivalent to, say, the Aristotelian
Society or the Mind Association, but rather a medium for introducing philosophy
to, and encouraging its pursuit from the ground up by, the keen amateur.
Nevertheless, in order to achieve its objectives it had to be able to hold
its head up reputably in the field.
It happened that the early years of the period saw the
death, or the fading from the active scene through age or ill-health, of
a number of formerly key figures. Chairman of Council the Rev. Dr Albert
Belden, Minister of Whitefield's Tabernacle in London, died in 1964. Leslie
Eaton had been a dynamic General Secretary for four and a half years before
his death in 1967. Victor Rienaecker gave up his Editorship of The Philosopher,
and Dr Frank Kinder, (M.Sc., Ph.D., F.Ph.S.) a pillar of the Society whose
service was recognised by a Vice-Presidency, Vice-Chairmanship of Council
and an Honorary Life Fellowship, retired from his long-held office of Senior
Tutor and Chief Examiner of the study courses. Virtually the only continuity
among the officers lay with Rupert Judge, who kept up his devoted work
as Registrar and Treasurer right to his demise in 1986, when his widow
Betty took up his mantle.
Dr Kinder had been a multi-faceted stalwart of the Society
who, in addition to his tutorial and examining role, single-handedly edited
and published from his home in Cheshire a periodical, effectively a rival
Journal, News and Comments, later retitled Views and Comments. This publication,
while given the blessing of the Society's Council, was financed almost
wholly from Dr Kinder's own pocket. It was simply produced, consisting
of 12-16 (later up to 28) pages of duplicated close typescript on folded
foolscap paper within a pale blue card cover.
If the Society's Golden Anniversary had elsewhere passed
almost unnoticed Dr Kinder made up for it in a big way: "50 years of philosophy
for the ordinary man", News and Comments proclaimed on the cover, and in
addition to issues dated January and February 1963 there were that year
Autumn and Special Autumn editions, Jubilee Year, Special Jubilee editions
on Science and Religion and a Final Jubilee edition as well as October
and Christmas issues. Although the effect was spoilt somewhat by Dr Kinder
calling the occasion the "bi-centenary", as he subsequently acknowledged,
in error.
When the publication metamorphosed into Views and Comments
it carried on the front cover the logo of an open book with, inscribed
upon it in Latin and English, "Knowledge rules, Wisdom guides, Religion
corrects", and as a subtitle: "A journal through which you may express
your religious, scientific and philosophical views". (Note that "religious"
comes first.) Dr Kinder repeatedly and somewhat cryptically called philosophy
"Reason seen through the eyes of the soul", and spoke often of "spiritual
philosophy". There was a coterie of regular contributors including the
Society's President, Dr Cleobury (whose name was consistently misspelt
as "Cloebury"); Dr Brian Pamplin of Bristol, a scientist who argued passionately
for a scientifically-acceptable Christianity and a new Bible reflecting
modern "truth", and devotional poems by Sir John Anderson, Bernard Wilmott,
the Rev. Gerald Ferroussat and Miss Frances Baron. A frequent contributor
was Dr Wand, Bishop of London. Dr Kinder encouraged running discussions
of the papers, and there were occasional treatments of Plato and Aristotle,
Spinoza, Leibniz and Kant.
Between about 1967 and 1970 an almost wholly new team
found itself running the Society. Following Dr Belden's death the Chairmanship
changed hands twice in less than two years. Belden's immediate successor,
the Rev. Albert E. Paterson, having taken office in 1965, was, rather abruptly
it seems, replaced by the Spring of 1967, a move for which no recorded
reason can be discovered. His name continued to feature until 1969 on lists
of Council members and even as a Deputy Chairman, but in his absence. Certainly
his own message introducing himself to the readership of The Philosopher
in the autumn of 1965 strikes a strangely incongruous note; its style stirs
doubts about his literacy, let alone his scholarship. He claimed to be
a very long-standing member of the Society and to have been awarded the
Society's Fellowship twenty-one years previously (that would have been
in 1944). The Philosopher, however, normally very punctilious in printing
academic letters after names, lists him in 1963 without any, yet by 1965
he is shown as 'B.D., Psy. D. (sic), F.Ph.S.' In any case, he was succeeded
by the Rev. John Griffiths, whose urbane and friendly Chairmanship continued
until his retirement in 1975.
The first of the reforming newcomers was Alan Holloway,
who joined in 1963 and later produced a scheme for new academic regulations
and a new syllabus for the Associateship and Fellowship, which came into
effect in January 1969.
The Open University had by now been established, and new
Universities and other institutions of higher education, part-time as well
as full-time, were proliferating. In colleges of education, teacher training
was now a three-year course and teaching was about to become a graduate
profession with the introduction of the B.Ed. degree. There was thus a
different climate from earlier days when for many, opportunities in higher
education had been largely non-existent and any accreditation, however
modest, had been a distinction.
At this time, the Society's Associateship, which previously
had been tested by a single paper of six questions to be completed at home
within three months, became more rigorous. Although as before no minimum
entry qualification was laid down, it was divided into six papers to be
sat under supervised examination conditions, after tuition conducted by
correspondence with tutors. Holloway recruited his own team of tutors and
examiners, mainly from among his professional colleagues and former students,
and this was extended when he became a Principal Lecturer in the Philosophy
of Religion at a college of education, teaching for the University of Bristol.
One who did not, however, have that previous connection
with him was the Rev. Everett Davies, a Baptist minister who became a tutor
and examiner in 1970. He was, in many ways, an example of just the kind
of person for whom the Philosophical Society should exist. Born in a Welsh
village, he began work at the age of fourteen in the mining industry but
undertook many evening classes and correspondence courses before and after
war service in the Royal Navy. By 1952 he was a full-time student at Coleg
Harlech, followed by Baptist College, University College, Cardiff, and
Mansfield College, Oxford.
His academic study of philosophy, combined with his own
dogged experience of learning the hard way from the grass roots, was invaluable
to the Society. When Holloway took over the Editorship of The Philosopher
in 1972, after the death of the Rev. A. J. Sinclair Burton, he succeeded
as Director of Studies. Together they continued their efforts to raise
the standards of the Society, one with further revisions to the syllabus
and examination patterns, the other in the content and style of the Journal,
which remained the Society's crucial 'shop window'.
As a shop window, what range of wares did The Philosopher
display in these years? As the second half of the Philosophical Society's
first century began, Victor Rienaecker was nearing the end of his Editorship,
but his gentle and cultured mind produced for the Golden Jubilee issue,
in addition to his own lecture on John Dewey, the last published paper
before his death of Sir Harry Lindsay, former Chairman of the Royal Society
of Arts, on 'The Philosophy of Christianity', by which he meant, he said,
the 'philosophy of the human life and how it is to be lived'. The issue
also included a robust essay by the Society's President, F. H. Cleobury,
on 'Some finalities in the philosophy of theism', which, though centering
on the earlier Oxford idealism of Green, Bradley and Caird, included a
treatment of linguistic analysis, indicating the more 'academic' interests
of the new team, such as Holloway. This continued to be the style of the
Journal for the subsequent issues.
Cleobury contributed a further paper in 1966, on 'Concepts
of Mind, Matter and God", which took in the descriptive function of language,
analogy and logical positivism. The Society's publication had thereby shown
signs of being, at least, in touch with contemporary philosophy, even if
critically. It was attempting to show that there was nothing wrong with
arguing a theistic position nor with being critical of modern trends and
taking a traditionalist stance, offering such eminent people as A.C. Ewing
and E. L. Mascall as examples.
With the succession of A. J. Sinclair Burton to the editorship,
however, The Philosopher became an almost wholly religious, even devotional,
magazine. Virtually without exception all the articles for the next seven
years seemed to take for granted not merely a theistic but an overtly and
dogmatically Christian line. Of course, an editor is to a large extent
limited by the works submitted for publication, especially when there are
not all that many received from which to choose; but Burton's own standpoint
is clear. He published his own series of four articles on the general theme
of reconciliation, which read like addresses to the devout at a Christian
retreat. When Dr Frank Kinder contributed three teaching papers based on
great philosophers of the past: a massive and brave attempt to summarise
the thought of Hegel, a strongly-Christian exposition of the doctrine of
immortality, and a study of Descartes, the latter was clearly not thought
'Christian enough' by the Editor, who added his own sermonising postscript.
Even what otherwise appeared to be an exception to this
Scripture-centred editorial policy, a paper entitled: 'Can we govern a
runaway world?' by Barbara Stafford in Spring 1968, dealing with social
and family structures, was, in fact, much indebted to Teilhard de Chardin
and ended by commending Christian attitudes and teachings.
It is not altogether surprsiing that twice, in the issues
of Spring 1969 and Spring 1971, Sinclair Burton admitted that he had received
criticisms that The Philosopher had become 'too theological... like a parish
magazine; too chatty and whimsical for a learned Society and occasionally
so preoccupied with theology that philosophy gave way to sermonizing.'
("Occasionally" was a major understatement.) Burton stoutly defended his
policy by insisting that philosophy cannot do without theology, for which
he revives the ancient title 'Queen of the sciences'. It is clear that
for him philosophy meant the search for a First Cause, a ground of being.
If it is one thing, and entirely legitimate, to include
religious assertions and theological claims as subjects for philosophical
investigation and even as factors to be taken into account. It is, however,
quite another to take biblical revelation and the Christian Church's doctrines
as axiomatic and as the prior determinants of all subsequent thinking.
Between 1965 and 1972 the overwhelming keynote of The Philosopher was one
simply of exposition of, and commentary upon, such revelation and doctrines.
Insofar as philosophy featured in the pages of the Journal
at all at this time, its main topic was to discuss what the Society understood
by it, a discussion which can be well epitomised in a brief article by
Victor Rienaecker in the Autumn 1968 issue under the title 'The Function
of Philosophy'. He says "The great problem for Humanity, and therefore
for Philosophy, is to try to answer the Psalmist's question - What is Man?...
Whence came he? Whither is he heading? All of which amounts to asking -
What is the meaning and the purpose of human life upon this earth?" Rienaecker
goes on later to quote J. A. Hadfield, a past President, from 1958:
There is no greater need at the present time than that
people should have a Philosophy of Life. And we say "people" specifically,
for we regard philosophy not merely as a subject for scholars but as a
practical need for everyday life, a guide to living.
This is a highly interesting interpretation of the Society's
declared object of "spreading the knowledge of practical philosophy among
the general public". It seems clear, if The Philosopher under Sinclair
Burton's editorship is anything to go by, that the Society felt itself
charged with the sacred duty of helping individuals to work out for themselves,
or even offering them, a set of moral convictions based on knowing what
life is for. In this light philosophy becomes the metaphysical search for
an Absolute, for a unifying reality from which moral principles are believed
to derive; and for most in the Society traditional Christianity was where
this was found.
Meanwhile the Secretary of the London Area Group (with
Rupert Judge as its Chairman) was George Colbran, and under his editorship
the Group's Newsletter, The Quest, became quite a major publication of
the Society, although of course with a circulation confined to London members.
An unpretentious typed and duplicated bi-monthly folded foolscap sheet
of four pages, it grew to eight and even twelve pages, until it vied in
quality with The Philosopher, equally if not more learned - as were,
evidently, the London Group discussions. Each issue contained a detailed
report of the Group's meetings, including dinners, revealing an ambitious
and serious programme. Papers were printed on such subjects as Humanism,
Psychic Research, Mysticism, the Will, Ontology, Epicurus, Hume's Empiricism,
the Pragmatism of William James, Heraclitus and Henri Bergson. Dr Jennings
White contributed a series on logical fallacies. Colbran himself, well-versed
in linguistics, literature and philosophy, wrote for The Quest some little
good-humoured gems of essays which, while bearing such whimsical titles
as "Muchness and Suchness" and "The Being of Having", displayed an acuteness
and a profundity of philosophical thought.
Following Sinclair Burton's death in 1972 George Colbran
succeeded to editorship of The Philosopher, but had a regrettably
short tenure of office, producing only two issues of The Philosopher
before pressure of other work led him to hand over to Holloway. Already,
however, under his direction a marked change of tone was noticeable. Dr
Jennings White had already begun his monumental series of seven papers
on the early Greek thinkers. Over the next ten years contributors like
Keith Dowling and Dr Geoffrey Brown (future Editors), E. P. Davies and
the new President John Wilson contributed articles on such subjects as
'On the meaning of "necessary", 'Utilitarianism and consumer morality',
"Knowledge and belief", and "The powers and problems of philosophy". John
Sherry was published on Plato and the Sophists, Leibniz, and Marx - a critique
of idealism. Dr B. E. Beater had a series of three essays on the brain-mind
problem, and Dr Frank Callister had two on Gilbert Ryle: the category mistake,
and knowing how and knowing that.
So the foundation was laid for the quite different atmosphere
which has permeated The Philosopher since the late 1980s. Colbran's and
Holloway's editorship may perhaps be seen in retrospect as a transitional
period. Current and future membership of the Philosophical Society will
judge, in the light of the Society's objects, whether it can be called
progress.
The course of progress, however, never did run smoothly.
As has already been noted, the Society had been in earlier years no stranger
to controversy and criticism, and now a threat to the development of its
reputation came from an unexpected direction: the Geneva Theological College,
with which the Philosophical Society became closely identified in the nineteen-seventies.
This identification was in no sense official but merely the result of several
officers of the Society becoming not only recipients of Geneva degrees
but also active officials of the College in the United Kingdom. It seems
to have been the creation of the Rev. R. Banks Blocher, a large and genial
American anglophile who was an enthusiastic member and Fellow of the Philosophical
Society, in fact its U.S.A. Correspondent. The anonymous Preface to the
Church of England's Crockford's Clerical Directory for 1971-72 launched
a veiled attack in the light of "inquiries that we have received in connection
with the recent granting of doctorates to certain clergymen by a body called
the Geneva Theological College. This institution is not the chief theological
centre of Calvin's city, but is located in the State of Indiana, U.S.A.,
and claims to be empowered to grant degrees in the United States and in
other countries."
The article went on to list twelve degrees that according
to its prospectus the college awards - at Bachelor, Master, Doctor and
Higher Doctorate levels - at a cost of £65, it says, for students
in England after courses ostensibly lasting between one and three years.
It added:
There seems to be some personal connection between the
Geneva Theological College and the Philosophical Society of England. Of
the four members of its (i.e Geneva's) Governing Body in the United Kingdom
one is an Associate and the other three Fellows of the Philosophical Society
of England. The three Fellows are also respectively Chairman of Council,
General Secretary and Registrar and Treasurer of the Philosophical Society...
The Moderating Examiner of the Philosophical Society is also one of the
two Senior Tutors in the United Kingdom of the Geneva Theological College.
Embarrassing in the light of earlier events, though this
was, the facts were indisputable. The Society's Chairman, John Griffiths,
its General Secretary Edgar Ford, its Registrar and Treasurer Rupert Judge,
and the Editor of The Philosopher until 1972, A. J. Sinclair Burton, were
all G.T.C. Doctors and administrators of the college in the U.K. All maintained
that they had had to sit examinations and submit theses. But the attack
was not over. Margaret Duggan, columnist of the Church Times, alleged (in
a letter of June 6th 1974) that "The Geneva Theological College... award
degrees, mostly doctorates, on payment of £80." This potentially
libellous statement was challenged by Holloway who wrote immediately with
a request "If you have any clear evidence that their degrees can be bought
I should be extremely glad to know about it ". No reply was forthcoming.
It was partly with this situation in mind, however, that
Alan Holloway wrote an editorial in Autumn 1974, which announced yet new
academic regulations for the Society's Associateship and Fellowship. Courses
were to be 'lengthened and strengthened so that the level of scholarship
and achievement ultimately reached will be worthy of the best. The Society
is determined to leave no doubt that its diplomas, once attained, are and
will continue to be worth possessing.'
Meantimes, during the late nineteen-seventies and into
the eighties the musical chairs of rotation of posts among the established
officers continued. Alan Holloway became Chairman to add to his Editorship,
and Everett Davies became vice-Chairman as well as Director of Studies,
succeeding in turn to the Chairmanship in 1981.
In 1977, when Dr Cleobury relinquished his Presidency
at the age of 85, John Wilson of the University of Oxford Department of
Education was approached and accepted the office. He already enjoyed a
reputation in education and philosophy which made him an ideal choice to
head the Society, having published a number of small and quite popularly
written but nonetheless acute original books such as Philosophy and Religion
and Thinking with Concepts. He was keen from the first to be not a mere
figurehead but an active participant in the Society's life, attending and
addressing some of its meetings. In the middle 1980s he also initiated
an ambitious research project, the Oxford Philosophy Trust, to investigate
and promote the teaching of philosophy in schools. It did not, however,
get off the ground for lack of adequate outside funding, although as recently
as 1994 efforts were being made to re-launch it with a somewhat wider remit
even closer to the Philosophical Society's objects. It yet deserves to
succeed.
One of the meetings at which John Wilson presented a paper
was held by the Gloucester Area (later Severn and Wye) Group, one of several
Branches in various areas of the country, the establishment of which had
long been a principal object of the Society. A North-Western Branch had
flourished for many years, based in Manchester and led by Derek Johnston.
In The Philosopher of Autumn 1965 was a report from the Scottish Branch,
with fifty-six members who, being widely scattered, had difficulty in getting
to Glasgow.
But, not unnaturally, the Society's main Branch was the
London Group at this time, with its own newsletter and an impressive programme
of meetings. Its host for a long time was the Rev. Edgar J. Ford, a tutor
in business and secretarial studies and later a Methodist Minister, who
had been the Society's Librarian and faithful General Secretary from 1967
all the way to his retirement in 1979. His academic progress was remarkable,
seeing him proceeding part-time, according to The Philosopher, from B.A.
via M.A. to Ph.D. in barely two years. He was succeeded briefly by Eric
Freeman, who was also Examinations Secretary, and then by Rodney Fleckner,
a former student of Holloway, who had already occupied a new post of Development
Officer. This last post had been optimistically created to explore ways
of increasing membership and local group activity, but the membership proved
reluctant to be 'developed'.
At the end of the 1970s the list of Vice-Presidents included
evidently eminent figures such as the Very Rev. Edward Carpenter, Leslie
Paul, Lord Wells-Pestell and Lord Wolfenden. The Society mourned, however,
in 1977 the loss of one of its most distinguished and valued Vice-Presidents,
Dr Harold Dinely Jennings White. He was a founder member of the Royal Institute
of Philosophy and a prolific contributor to The Philosopher, notably with
his last series of papers on the pre-Socratic philosophers. After reading
mental and moral sciences for his Cambridge MA he had gained a Ph.D. at
London in psychology and lectured at Birkbeck College, later becoming a
psychotherapist, thereby reflecting a curious but positive affinity between
the Society and the world of psychology. A special issue of The Philosopher
in the summer of 1978 was devoted entirely to his writings.
With the coming of the 1980s, the game of musical chairs
became more frantic at the top of the Society, and more radical. Largely
through the influence of Everett Davies, a number of lecturers from University
Departments of Philosophy came into prominence: Keith Dowling as Director
of Studies, and a triumvirate of Dr Geoffrey Brown, Martin Hughes and,
later, Michael Bavidge editing the Journal. This certainly brought a fresh
academic rigour, but at the risk of becoming too "professional" for the
ordinary non-specialist member, at least until these scholars recognised,
as they usually did, the special nature of the Society, and adjusted to
it.
So the third twenty-five years ended much as they had
begun: in an atmosphere of flux with new faces and new names. The end result
had not been an immediate increase in membership or influence, but for
many it was reassuring that now at least the Society was attracting to
its ranks, and being led by, people with accepted credentials in University
Departments of Philosophy. It could, it was hoped, begin once again to
hold up its head, if modestly, to pursue its distinctive objectives with
respectability. Even Crockford's Clerical Directory, which for many years
had refused to include F.Ph.S. among letters after names in its list of
Anglican clergy, began once again to accept it.
Chapter 5..
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