Since the Enlightenment, we have become skilled at learning about ourselves and the universe, but we have learned little about creating a civilized world. These are the two great problems of learning. Maxwell argues that we have solved the first problem of learning (we know how to learn about ourselves and the universe) and now we urgently need to learn how to tackle the second problem (to learn how to create a civilized world). 

It is of no use blaming the state of the world upon thoughtlessness about the future and greed. Over the course of history, it is unlikely that they have changed very much. Nor should we simply blame natural science for our troubles. Maxwell’s ‘big idea’, which he has promoted in a series of books over many years is that: “[W]e should rather strive to learn from scientific progress how we can make social progress towards a better world” (7). 

He is well aware that this is not a new idea. It was attempted in the Enlightenment, as neatly encapsulated in the subtitle to Hume’s Treatise on Human Nature: being an attempt to introduce the experimental method of reasoning into moral subjects; and this attempt is now deeply embedded, indeed institutionalised, in academia. But, Maxwell argues, the Enlightenment attempt was botched. Scientific methodology was misconceived. The result is that disciplines such as sociology, political science and economics are focussed upon perpetually acquiring more knowledge rather than attempting to solve real world problems. “The momentous task of helping humanity learn how to become more civilized is abandoned in favour of the rather more restricted task of helping academics become more knowledgeable” (23). 

The social sciences made the mistake of imitating a method that the natural sciences do not in fact use, in that it was generally assumed that natural science does not rely upon metaphysical presuppositions; but that is incorrect. Natural science presupposes, for example, that the universe is comprehensible, and that nature is uniform, and our presuppositions become more specific as our knowledge progresses. (Although unmentioned by Maxwell, this is a point that R.G. Collingwood made in his Essay on Metaphysics.) Consequently, “as we improve our knowledge of the world we are able to improve our knowledge of how to improve knowledge” (29). Maxwell terms this methodology, reliant upon changeable presuppositions, aim-oriented empiricism. 

As applied to the problems of society, he terms it aim-oriented rationalism. Aim-oriented rationalism aims, “to help us improve problematic aims-and-methods as we act in the light of imagination and experience” (37). The essential point is that, as in natural science, both our presuppositions and our ends are changeable. 

The conception of scientific methodology (standard empiricism) currently applied to social life is irrational because it only specified means. It assumes that aims and methods are fixed. It does not allow for the improvement of ends; but natural science is in fact more flexible than the current conception recognises. The ends of science change as do its presuppositions, assumptions and values. (However, to say that values change is not to say that they influence what is recognised as constituting a fact.)

Note that although Maxwell believes that if scientific methodology is more accurately conceived it will be of greater use in tackling the problems of living, that is not to say that he believes that natural science is more fundamental than social inquiry.  He argues just the reverse: it is our social values that to some extent influence the direction of science. 

Another mistake imported into the social sciences from a mistaken conception of the natural sciences is the assumption that all relevant knowledge must be acquired before any action is taken.  It is a dangerous mistake: for when a problem is urgent we have limited time in which to take action; and we cannot know what new knowledge is relevant until we have learned (via action) more about the problem is and what can be done about it.  In that respect our capacity to act is more fundamental than propositional knowledge. That is not to say that the social sciences should not pursue empirical inquiries, but Maxwell argues that the problem-solving aspects of social science should not be hidden away in the background.

In clear and well-written prose Maxwell makes the ambitious and far-reaching argument that scientific method, properly conceived, can be applied not just to the acquisition of knowledge but to problems of living. By this method academic inquiry should aim to seek and promote not merely knowledge but wisdom. He recognises certain areas in which this already occurs: social policy, ecology, international relations and human geography. In these areas one’s ends and presuppositions change in the process of actively solving problems. But elsewhere, because of the misconceived notion of scientific methodology, there is a deep division between knowledge and wisdom; and wisdom for the most part is simply ignored or seen as irrelevant to any academic concerns. The result, sadly, is that: “Real education, which must be open-ended, and without any predetermined goal, rarely exists in universities, and yet few notice” (67).

I suspect that many readers will sympathise with at least some of what Maxwell says, in particular his observation that universities do very little to explore wisdom, but many readers will also wonder if his suggested remedies are not hopelessly utopian.

The various objections are discussed at the end of the book all have this underlying concern. The objections include: we are too stupid to be more civilized; institutionally a rational approach is not possible; there are limits to co-operative action; politics is too different from science for progress to be possible.  Many of these can be summarised under the wider objection that “wisdom-inquiry is only possible when it is no longer needed” (88) – i.e. when the world is wise.  

Maxwell’s response to many of the objections that he raises, and to this wider objection, is to stress the vital need for wisdom inquiry. “Democratically and rationally, we need to manipulate ourselves so that our circumstances become such that we desire and seek what we ought to desire and seek from the standpoint of creating civilisation.” (98) 

I think a better answer would be to admit that the wider objection might be right. But to then make the point that, nonetheless, we can at least try to become a little bit wiser. For if we gave up on that, we would in effect be admitting that we cannot be any wiser than we are today. God forbid.

Stephen Leach is honorary senior fellow at Keele University.