Bradley on Sloth and System (and skepticism)

Neither in form nor extent does it carry out the idea of a system. Its subject indeed is central enough to justify the exhaustive treatment of every problem. But what I have done is incomplete, and what has been left undone has often been omitted arbitrarily.--F.H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, Preface (xi).

There is no established reputation which now does much harm to philosophy. And one is not led to feel in writing that one is face to face with the same dense body of stupid tradition and ancestral prejudice.--Bradley, Preface (xiii). 

Michael Della Rocca has been encouraging me to get interested in Bradley [and this post was prompted by one of his papers--ES]. (See this book for a polemical introduction to Bradley. [I blogged about it here; Mohan responded;  then I; Mohan here.]) The lines in the first epigraph above are the second, third, and fourth sentences of Bradley's book, explaining why Bradley calls it an "essay in metaphysics." While -- if we allow that being exhaustively treated and the idea of system are close in spirit -- the subject is suitable to systematic treatment, Bradley goes out of his way to deny his book is not. At first sight he seems to suggest that it is not systematic because the book is "incomplete." 

Fair enough. The edition I am looking at is over 600 pages long. But Bradley is also insistent that the in-completion is due to his arbitrary omissions. So, the first paragraph of the book introduces an opposition between the idea of system and arbitrary gaps. That is, the idea of system entails deliberateness about internal structure. I emphasize "idea" because Bradley does not deny that his book is an attempt "to deal systematically with first principles" (xiii); evidently such an attempt does not fall under the idea of system.

How can an agent choose to deploy arbitrary gaps? (To be anachronistic: there is nothing arbitrary about letting a random-number generator create the numbers of a sequence, even if any given number is arbitrary.)

Bradley goes on to explain that the work on the book was "suspended several times through long intervals of compulsory idleness, and I have been glad to finish it when and how I could...if I had attempted more, I should probably have completed nothing." Maybe this implies he struggled with bad health and concern about impending demise. But compulsory idleness can also mean that he recognizes in himself and embraces his sloth, that is, Bradley rejects what we might label a protestant work ethic in philosophy. In order to avoid confusion, Bradley is self-consciously tensing his prefatory remarks. As the second epigraph above reveals, his "essay" is suitable to a particular time and even geography. Bradley insists: "My book does not design to be permanent" (xii); it is written for "our day" (xii); "I have written for English readers" (xii); "The present generation is learning that to gain education a man must study in more than one school." (xiii) So, maybe at another time a protestant work ethic would be suitable.

Either way, the whole preface is structured around a set of oppositions: the idea of system vs arbitrary gaps; the protestant work ethic vs sloth; taking some principles for granted (i.e., that is to belong to a school) vs a systematic examination of first principles. (There are more: a polemicist vs a learner, etc.) In the list of oppositions  the first term is unsuitable for the moment. In particular, Bradley is adamant that these reject -- one is tempted to say "professional" -- commitments that are generally taken on "authority" (xiv).

That is to say, Bradley's preface also signals that he has reflected on what one may call the 'politics of philosophy.' (I think I owe that term to Abe Stone.) As Bradley puts it: "The chief need of English philosophy is, I think, a sceptical study of first principles, and I do not know of any work which seems to meet this need sufficiently. By scepticism is not meant doubt about or disbelief in some tenet or tenets. I understand by it an attempt to become aware of and to doubt all preconceptions." (xii; by contrast, Russell insisted that essentially scientific philosophy embraces "submission to fact." (Recall.)))

As an aside: I think, thus, it is misleading that even Bradley's friends speak of his "system." (This is not to deny that Bradley speaks of reality as a system, and one can find plenty of remarks that might make it seem that he espouses a system.)

In conclusion, Bradley does not explain the sources of his integrity or philanthropy such that he attempts to supply the needs so diagnosed (or his special talents at so diagnosing), but it does suggest that his engagement with particular philosophical problems is animated by what he takes to be a moral vision on the nature of his role as a philosopher for his time and day.  Such a reflexive stance towards one's practice may be delusional or mistaken, of course; it runs the risk that small minds only see silliness in one's endeavours (Bradley responds: "the same thing holds good with every other positive function of the universe." (xiv)).  Such a risk is inherent in philosophy.