"DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC
ADMINISTRATION": REPLIES AND COMMENTS
BY
HERBERT A. SIMON
Carnegie Institute of Technology
PETER F. DRUCKER
New York University
AND
DWIGHT WALDO
University of California (Berkeley)
Reprinted from THE AMERICAN POLITICAL SCIENCE REVIEW
Vol. XLVI, No. 2, June, 1952
"DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC
ADMINISTRATION": REPLIES AND COMMENTS
The first two comments, recently received by the Editor, are brief critiques of Professor Dwight Waldo's article on "The Development of Theory of Democratic Administration," which appeared on pages 81-103 of the March, 1952, issue of the REVIEW.
They are followed by a reply from Professor Waldo. (ED.)
Since Dwight Waldo has credited me with "contributions" to public administration, I suppose that I might be flattered rather than dismayed by his treatment of the fact-value issue in his recent article on "Development of Theory
of Democratic Administration" in the AMERICAN POLITICAL SCIENCE REVIEW.
Although under these circumstances silence is perhaps the more modest and
the wiser policy, I cannot forbear from making a few comments on his paper.
I am impelled to do this in part because the faults of Waldo's analysis are
characteristic of the writings of those who call themselves "political theorists"
and who are ever ready to raise the battle cry against positivism and empiricism. (Vide the last paragraph of Morgenthau's review of the book by Lass well
and Kaplan in the same issue of the REVIEW, pp. 230-234.)
Love me, love my logic. A scientist is not (and, in my system of personal values,
should not be) flattered by being told that his conclusions are good, but do not
follow from his premises. If Mr. Waldo's footnote 40, on page 97, is correct, then
I should be condemned, not flattered. I will perhaps be pardoned for believing
the assertion in the footnote to be incorrect, and for wishing that Mr. Waldo
would indicate more specifically just where the gaps in logic occur, and what
are the correct premises and lines of reasoning for reaching the conclusions that
I reach. I hope that, if Mr. Waldo someday undertakes this task, he will apply
the same standards of rigor in his reasoning that I tried to apply (perhaps not
always successfully) in Administrative Behavior.
Study of logic and empirical science has impressed on me the extreme care
that must be exercised, in the search for truth, to avoid logical booby traps.
For this reason the kind of prose I encounter in writings on political theory,
decorated with assertion, invective, and metaphor, sometimes strikes me as
esthetically pleasing, but seldom as convincing. Since I am unable to discover
definitions in Mr. Waldo's paper for his key terms, since he does not set forth
his basic premises in any systematic fashion, and since his propositions appear
to skip from philosophy to psychology to history and back, I have not succeeded
in reconstructing the syllogisms by which I presume he reached his conclusions.
Fact and Value. Even more worrisome to me than that I cannot discover most
of the premises on which Mr. Waldo bases his argument, is the fact that one
of the crucial premises that I do find is false. No one who has studied seriously
the writings of logical positivists, or my own discussion of fact and value in
Administrative Behavior, could attribute to us the "proposition that there are
'value decisions' and 'factual decisions.'" The phrases "value judgment" and
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DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC ADMINISTRATION
495
"factual judgment" are employed on page 5 of Administrative Behavior in a context indicating clearly to any careful reader that the term "judgment" refers
to an element of decision, not to a decision as a whole; and if this passage is
adjudged obscure, clarification is easily obtainable from the elaboration of the
point in Chapter 3.
I will not attempt to rehash here the whole fact-value question.-The chapter
of Administrative Behavior just mentioned treats the problem at length and cites
additional references for the intellectually curious. For the sake of those who have
not examined the literature, but who have been confused by the caricatures of
positivism encountered in contemporary political theory, I would like, however,
to restate briefly the hard core of the issue. The explanation is intended to appeal to anyone who is familiar with the rudiments of English grammar and
the nature of logical proof.
A proof is a finite series of sentences in a particular form. Some of the sentences of a proof are assumptions, asserted without proof. The remainder, including the conclusion, are derived from the assumptions by means of certain
rules called rules of logic. There is little disagreement, except in certain sophisticated parts of mathematics that need not concern us here, as to what the rules
should be, although it is sometimes a matter of considerable practical difficulty to ascertain whether they have been correctly applied in a particular
proof.
A decision is a sentence in the imperative mode. It is a direction to the self or
to some other person or persons. In order for a decision to appear as a conclusion
in a valid logical proof, one of the following must be the case: (1) it is possible,
by the rules of logic, to derive imperative sentences from assumptions that are
all in the indicative mode, or (2) among the assumptions are one or more sentences in the imperative mode. Logical positivists reject the first alternative
on the ground that no one has shown by what sleight of hand it can be accomplished. Hence they conclude that a decision can be logically validated only if at
least some of the unproved assumptions from which it is derived are sentences
in the imperative mode. These unproved imperatives they call value premises.
Moreover, they argue that these value premises cannot be derived solely from
empirical observations, since empirical observations establish sentences of the
form that "such and such is the case" i.e., declarative sentences.
Therefore, if Mr. Waldo fears that the proposition previously quoted, which
he attributes to the positivists, creates a "roadblock in the way of democratic
administration" (what rich prose, and how unsuitable for close reasoning!),
he can regain his peace of mind. It is a verifiable empirical proposition that a
positivist would rather be broken on the rack than admit that there are "value
decisions" and "factual decisions."
Political Theory. Having criticized Mr. Waldo's rhetoric, let me indulge in a
bit of my own. Philosophy is a serious study. The history of human error
demonstrates repeatedly that philosophers will inevitably reach the conclusions
they wish to reach unless they subject themselves to a merciless discipline of
rigor and the chances are good that they will fall into error even then. The
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danger is greatest in political philosophy, for here we are concerned with our
very deepest values and prejudices.
Quite apart from whether Mr. Waldo's premises are right or wrong, I do
not see how we can progress in political philosophy if we continue to think and
write in the loose, literary, metaphorical style that he and most other political
theorists adopt. The standard of unrigor that is tolerated in political theory
would not receive a passing grade in the elementary course in logic, Aristotelian
or symbolic.
If political philosophers wish to preserve democracy from what they regard
as the termitic borings of positivism, I suggest that as the first step they acquire
a sufficient technical skill in modern logical analysis to attack the positivists
on their own ground. Most of the positivists and empiricists of my acquaintance will then be likely to receive them more as allies in the search for truth
than as enemies.
HERBERT A. SIMON.
Carnegie Institute of Technology.
II
I wish to underscore strongly Professor Dwight Waldo's criticism, in his paper on "Development of Theory of Democratic Administration," of the approach of some of the social scientists to the problems of administration in the
large-scale organization. He rightly points out that this approach, as exemplified
by the late Elton Mayo and his disciples, results in a new paternalism, a Freudian paternalism rather than the Sunday School paternalism of fifty years ago,
but paternalism nonetheless. He also rightly points out that one basic reason
for this result is the horror of conflict which is central to so many of today's
social scientists. A horror of conflict has always been the rationale of "enlightened despotism"; but it is, I think, a duty of political scientists, particularly
in a free society, to emphasize that the suppression of conflict is no solution, and
that the job of the statesman is either to resolve conflict or to make it socially
constructive for the entire community.
I wish only that Professor Waldo had also brought out some of the other
underlying concepts of the social scientists which explain why such a strong
tendency towards a manipulative and purely paternalist despotism runs
through their approach. There is the fact that so many of them start out from
abnormal psychology, with its assumption that everybody else is "maladjusted." There is also the tacit assumption that beliefs and convictions that
is, ideas do not exist, let alone matter, and that therefore differences and
conflicts of beliefs and convictions are "personality problems" or "cultural
traits." This assumption is one reason that so much of the social scientist's
attention is focused on the outward "how" of behavior rather than on the
"what" or "why."
But while in whole-hearted agreement with Professor Waldo's emphasis on
the political character of the basic problems of large-scale organization, I feel that
in his concrete approach he fails to meet the challenge which he himself raises.
DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC ADMINISTRA
TION
497
In fact, I feel strongly that he sidesteps the real problems which the emergence
of large-scale organization presents to the political scientist. He does this
through his "loose construction" of the term "democracy." If by this term is
meant "participation" which is what Professor Waldo seems to me to mean
in many instances we are exactly where the social scientists are: we are talking
of manner rather than of substance. Professor Waldo himself seems to say that
much in his implied criticism of the Lilienthal approach of "manipulative grassroots democracy." "Democracy" in this sense is in effect nothing else than what
the popular newspapers mean when they call the King of Norway "democratic"
because he rides his bicycle through the streets of Oslo. "Participation" then
becomes the tool of efficient administration a psychological gadget, if not,
ultimately a tool to obscure the reality of power and of decision-making. If,
however, "democracy" is used strictly, as denoting the actual exercise of responsibility and decision-making by the citizens, we have a real issue. For then
we are face to face with the basic problem: who should be responsible in the
large-scale organization and for what decisions?
The difficulty, as I see it, is that the large-scale enterprise (though I shall confine myself to discussing the big business enterprise, most observations apply to
the big public agency as well) is not a "society" in the sense in which we use the
term in political science. To apply terms, concepts, and ideas of the political scientists which derive from the national state to the large-scale organization of
the business enterprise or the public agency, can only create confusion. For
there is one absolutely basic difference. The business enterprise or the public
agency does not exist for the sake of its "members," that is, its employees.
These "members" are indeed subject to governance. But the organization as
such cannot be defined, not even by the most ardent "democrat," as existing
primarily for their sake. Using formal terms, I would say that the "members"
are "subjects," but that they are not "citizens."
Waldo points out quoting me as his authority that we no longer consider
the business enterprise as existing for the sake of the property-owners. It is
this, I believe, that underlies the change in American business ethos over the
last fifty years, and Professor Waldo rightly emphasizes it. We believe today,
both inside and outside the business world, that the business enterprise, especially the large business enterprise, exists for the sake of the contribution
which it makes to the welfare of society as a whole. Our economic-policy discussions are all about what this responsibility involves and how best it can be
discharged. There is, in fact, no disagreement, except on the lunatic fringes on
the Right and on the Left, that business enterprise is responsible for the optimum utilization of that part of society's always-limited productive resources
which are under the control of the enterprise.
This means in effect that society, and especially free society, could not tolerate an order of the large enterprise that defines its authority in terms of the
welfare of the members, let alone one which gives the members (employees)
decision-making powers any more than free society could tolerate a "democratic" army, if this would mean an army conceived as existing for the sake of
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the military. Society must insist that the large-scale organization
put first its
contribution to society's welfare, not the welfare of its members.
There is indeed an alternative, but it only proves my point. The
large-scale
business enterprise can be organized "democratically" if it enjoys
a monopoly.
For then it is, by definition, run in its own self-interest. It is no
coincidence
that the one student of administration whose thoughts are closest
to Professor
Waldo's, that pioneer of "scientific management," Henry Gantt
(whom curiously enough Professor Waldo omits to mention), came out with
the demand
for complete cartelization of the American economy in order
to establish
"democracy in industry" anticipating N.R. A., even in details, by
more than a
dozen years. Nor is it, I believe, coincidence that the "democracy
in industry"
solution, the solution of "co-determination" now being tried out
in Europe
today, is the brain child of the most convinced believers in the
cartel, the
German trade unions; and it is, indeed, all over Europe, interpreted
as the nullification of the program of "decartelization" which this country,
rightly or
wrongly, imposed on Germany.
But as long as we believe that competition in the economy is essen
tial to
the welfare of our society, we must, as political scientists, face the politi
cal issues
inherent in the emergence of large-scale enterprise. We cannot
sidestep, by
means of terminological looseness, problems which are much bigge
r and much
more important than Professor Waldo seems to think.
The central problems lie, I believe, in three areas. The first of these
problems
involves the relationship between the big-business enterprise and
society as a
whole. It is a relationship which has very little to do with the intern
al organization of the enterprise; and, as Professor Waldo rightly points out,
nationalization, i.e., the change in the legal locus of ownership, has proved not
to be the
solution indeed, is not even relevant. Here belong questions such
as: (a) Are
market and trade union sufficient to limit the power of the enterpris
e whether
privately or publicly owned and to ensure its responsibility? As
any one with
experience in both private and public large-scale organization
will testify,
market and union are more powerful as balances, and more restra
ining as controls, than anything the large public agency is subjected to, including
even congressional control of the purse. (Incidentally it is certainly rather
amazing that
the trade union is not even mentioned in a paper entitled "Theory of
Democratic
Administration," as Professor Waldo's is.) But are market and union
enough?
(b) Is the direction in which we are travelling today the right direc
tion ? We
are moving fast towards a concept of the big-business enterprise
as the focus
of a series of status relations which are clearly public-law in their chara
cter but
which are embodied in private contracts. (A historian of the law woul
d be justified to speak of the "feudalization" of the large corporation.) This
trend is
shown in the rapid change of the legal construction of the stockholde
r from an
"owner" to a "special claimant." It is evidenced even more clear
ly in the incredibly rapid growth of the concept of a "property right in the job"
inherent
in the status of employee but expressed contractually. (How fast this
trend has
been moving very few people realize. But an unpublished study made
by Pro-
DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC
ADMINISTRATION
499
fessor Joseph M. Juran of the Graduate Engineering
School of New York
University shows it to extend all over American indu
stry.) Business seems to
consider this new concept of the enterprise the right one;
the definition of management as a "trusteeship" which has become so pop
ular of late in business
.circles is nothing but a legally imprecise way of expressin
g it. But is it socially
and politically desirable?
The second basic problem of the large-scale enterpris
e is that of the appropriate internal organization of management, the gove
rning organ of the enterprise, (a) Professor Waldo talks of "decentralization
." But both theory and
practice have gone well beyond that point; the organiza
tion form which I have
called "federalism" goes as far beyond "decentralization
" as our federal union
went beyond the Confederacy. (Incidentally, in this
connection the work of
James C. Worthy of Sears, Roebuck & Co., not even
mentioned by Professor
Waldo, should be emphasized.) "Federalism" in the
big-business enterprise
attempts to establish decision-making at the lowest poss
ible level; to make the
decision as much "situation-focussed" as possible; and
to release human energy
throughout the organization, (b) What are the areas
within the management
job that are "affected with the public interest"? In
my New Society1 I have
included such concerns as that for equal opportunitie
s for advancement and
for the adequate development of tomorrow's managem
ent. But the analysis
of the management function as a social and political
function has barely been
begun, (c) And what about the strong trend towards
the professionalization of
management? Is that the right way for us to go? I subm
it that this question and
(a) and (6) are central to the problem of the political
order in an industrial
society. Yet, to me, they seem to have little to do with
"democracy." "Federalism," for instance, is a principle of the economy and effic
iency of group organization; its value concepts lie in the realm of the social rath
er than in that of the
political. It would be valid whether administration be
based on the monarchic,
the aristocratic, or the democratic principle.
Finally, there is the big problem of the relationship of
the employee to the
decision-making process. Is there a meaningful area of
actual decision-making
for the employee? Or is there only the "participation" whic
h is primarily a means
of obtaining consent of the employee to decisions mad
e by others, and which
therefore is almost bound to degenerate into sem
antics and propaganda?
Professor Waldo lightly dismisses my concept of the
"self-governing plant
community." He calls it "traditional." That I cons
ider a compliment since
I am convinced that we have to build on what we have
. But he also sums up
my concept in the words that "at most, employees
may be permitted only
a share in the operation of employee services" which,
apart from not being a
correct statement of my concept at all, seems to me to
miss the point. To hand
over to the employees, as I suggest, the entire responsi
bility for all the matters
which are primarily plant community matters, is goin
g very much further
than anything Professor Waldo seems to me to propose.
And I can assure him,
1 The New Society; The Anatomy of the Industrial
Order (New York, 1950).
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THE AMERICAN POLITICAL SCIENCE REVIEW
on the basis of considerable experience, that such an approach makes quite a
noticeable difference both in the actual climate and in the actual structure of
the organization. (I have enough experience by now with the actual workings
of such an approach to make such a statement.) In other words, it would seem
to me that Professor Waldo, in not focussing on actual decision-making, is
likely to come out exactly where the social scientists, whom he rightly criticizes, come out: in a lot of talk about "democracy" but in very little actual selfgovernment and responsibility.
Yet this particular result does not, to my mind, diminish the tremendous
contribution that his article makes by emphasizing that the internal structure
of the large organization is a field for political theory. In my opinion, it is the
most fruitful field for the political theorist today.
PETER F. DRUCKER.
New York University.
Ill
Before writing my essay on democratic administration, I read or reread Mr.
Drucker's several books dealing primarily with large-scale industrial organization. Although I often disagree with him both in diagnosis and prescription, I
find Mr. Drucker one of the most stimulating and useful writers in the area of
my special interests. I am pleased that he, in turn, found some merit in my
essay. I offer the following brief comments on some of the points in his letter:
1. That I did not meet the challenge I raised is quite true. But my aim was
to challenge, not to present responses of my own to the challenge. Similarly, I
would deny that I "sidestepped" the real problems of large-scale organization.
What the "real problems" are is, of course, subject to argument. But apart
from that, I could not address myself to all of them in a short essay, and had no
such intention.
2. Curiously, Mr. Drucker and I accuse each other of the same fault; to his
contention that I misconstrued one of his central concepts I add mine that he
misconstrued a part of my thinking. To me, he says, democracy means "participation," which readily "becomes the tool of efficient management a psychological gadget." Now that is the manner in which, I tried gently to suggest,
his "self-governing plant community" appears to me: as a psychological sop,
another way of keeping employees ("subjects") happy and out of the hair of
management. Perhaps I have misunderstood; I will reconsider.
I agree with Mr. Drucker that the problems of organization should be solved
in the context of the larger society of which organizations are a part. That he
has not credited me with agreement is one aspect of the misconstruction about
which I am concerned. I am no disciple of Henry Gantt; and given the present
level of our social skills, I think further "cartellization" dangerous. Incidentally,
however, I should like to see if Mr. Drucker could sustain the thesis that
"monopolies" have been, are, or can be more democratically organized than
nonmonopolies.
The second aspect of Mr. Drucker's misconstruction concerns "participation." I did not argue that democracy means "participation," though those
DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC ADMINISTRATION
501
who have argued for "participation," as did Mary Parker Follett, certainly
meant participation in decision-making. What democracy in administration
may mean precisely I confess I don't know. What I said was let's find out.
3. Mr. Drucker's conceptual framework seems to be somewhat ambivalent.
While eager to assert the "political character of the basic problems of largescale organization," he is, I think, reluctant to accept the necessary implications of this point of view at least to admit into the "private" corporation
adequate theoretical baggage of the modern democratic state. Most readers of
this REVIEW will, I think, be startled at the assertion that federalism is not a
political concept, but has to do rather with "the economy and efficiency of
group organizations."
Professor Simon charges me with profaning the sacred places of Logical Positivism, and I am afraid I have. I use this figure of speech because Professor
Simon seems to me that rare individual in our secular age, a man of deep faith.
His convictions are monolithic and massive. His toleration of heresy and sin is
nil. The Road to Salvation is straight, narrow, one-way, and privately owned.
We must humbly confess our sins, accept the Word, be washed pure in the
Blood of Carnap and Ayer. Then, he says, we will no longer be "enemies."1
Even if we should be inclined to elect salvation by logical positivism, the matter is not so simple as it is represented by Professor Simon. According to my
philosopher friends who regard themselves as empiricists, logical positivism has
performed a useful function as an apparatus of criticism; but we have already
reached a point from which it can be viewed in perspective, not as the end of
philosophy, not as The Philosophy, not even as the Philosophy of Science, but
merely as another chapter in the history of philosophy. Presently, three "generations" contest for leadership of a movement that is seriously divided.
May I state for the record, though I had hoped that I had made it clear, that
I am not opposed to positivism and empiricism as whole bodies of thought or
techniques of investigation or action. I am indebted to self-labelled positivists
and empiricists for much information, clarification, and stimulation. It would
be folly to refuse to scrutinize carefully everything they have to offer, to believe
it if it seems true, to use it if it seems useful. I want, however, to reserve the
right to find truth and usefulness wherever they may lie. And it seems unlikely
to me that self-styled positivists and empiricists have a monopoly on either.
Unless Professor Simon wishes to rest his reputation solely on his proficiency
in logic, his wish to be known by the strict logical derivation of his conclusions
from his premises rather than by the truth or usefulness of his conclusions,
makes little sense. That correct conclusions can be reached by means other
than those formally alleged, I need not prove, for Professor Simon has recently
stated as much in the pages of this REVIEW: "In this comment, I shall argue
that Mr. Perry's first conclusion is incorrect, and that his second conclusion is
* I am suddenly self-conscious about my purple prose. My embarrassment ia relieved
somewhat, however, by Professor Simon's offer to break a positivist on the rack to witness his Truth. Or perhaps he really means it.
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THE AMERICAN POLITICAL SCIENCE REVIEW
correct but not for the reasons he gives."2 That the creative processes of the
mind are still a mystery and at best are merely aided by training in logic, Professor Simon must know. That scientists often reach important conclusions
which invalidate their premises, Professor Simon also must know. Indeed, the
history of scientific progress can be written largely in these terms. Perhaps Professor Simon needs to examine whether the logical positivism of which he is
enamored has become an obstacle in his pursuit of the science to which he is
dedicated. To me, at least, logical positivism, empiricism, and science are far
from being the nearly or wholly congruent things which they seem to be to
Professor Simon.
I do not deny that the findings, observations and conclusions of Professor
Simon's Administrative Behavior3 may be in accord with the logical apparatus
there elaborately set forth I don't know at this point. I do fail to see that the
findings, observations, and conclusions have any necessary connection with the
logical apparatus. The chapter on communication, for example, could be interpolated with no essential breach of logic or continuity into any one of several
books written by persons of widely varying philosophy, all quite innocent of the
intricacies of logical positivism. And long prior to publication of Administrative
Behavior, philosophic idealists, whose very shadow would make Professor Simon
feel unclean, had said many of the things there set forth.
Since a major issue has been made of precision, I hope that I may be pardoned
the following petty finger-pointing. But at the "transitions" in Administrative
Behavior—the hinges between the logical apparatus and the subject matter
it does seem to me that the author speaks out of the side of his mouth rather
than in his usual careful manner. Consider the following sentence: "Democratic
institutions find their principal justification as a procedure for the validation of
value judgments" (p. 56). First, this is the first reference to, and the most careful definition of, "democratic institutions," though much of the book concerns
the relation of policy and administration in a democracy. Second, it is an empirically verifiable proposition that the principal justification of democratic institutions is not as a procedure for the validation of value judgments, unless we
charitably allow the author the interpretation that anyone making a case for
democracy is (regardless of what he thinks he is doing) validating his value
judgments or arguing that other people should be allowed to validate theirs.
Third, if this latter interpretation is allowed, "democratic" loses any significance in the sentence because all political institutions exist to validate value
judgments in this loose sense. What, precisely, the sentence is meant to assert,
I am at a loss to know. Professor Simon seeks to avoid meeting political theorists on their own terms by placing himself behind a screen lettered "Quiet!
Scientist at Work." But if he is really interested in the consistency and relevancy of his work, he obviously should spend more time studying traditional
political theory and less time with his logic books.
1 Discussion of Charner Perry's "The Semantics of Political Science,' Vol. 44, p. 407
(June, 1950).
« (New York, 1947).
DEVELOPMENT OF THEORY OF DEMOCRATIC ADMINISTRATION
503
In the sentence immediately preceding the one quoted, Professor Simon asserts that value judgments are validated "by human fiat." In the opinion of
hundreds of millions of persons who are at least legally sane and millions of
whom are well-educated, this is not true. If I state that "all anarchists should
be shot," I haven't "validated" it, I have merely stated it. I think I understand the chain of reasoning by which, according to the "system," I am supposed to escape from this tautology. But following it to infinity I never, from
my point of view, find an answer.4
The assertion that I did not define my key terms nor set forth my basic premises simply puzzles me, since Part I of my essay was devoted to these matters. I
am unrepentant about skipping from "philosophy to psychology to history
and back," as my administrative universe is pluralistic. But there probably is
"unrigor" in my syllogisms; I didn't even know I had any.
To Professor Simon's charge that I misquoted him, substituting "value decision" and "factual decision" for "value judgment" and "factual decision," I
plead guilty and offer public apology. Still worse, I may have misinterpreted
him. Whether and, if so, how badly, I still don't know; to decide will take more
time for study than I now have. I don't think that the distinction between "decision" and "judgment," however important to a logical positivist, is more than
a quibble from the viewpoint of my own argument.6 But I may be mistaken; I
often am. I may change my mind; I sometimes do.
It is one of the ironies of the history of political theory that it has been
created by men who would have been affronted at the idea that they were
"theorizing." They have considered themselves to be hard-minded men seeking
answers to problems, and each thought that he was probing reality at its very
core. I hope Professor Simon will not be too deeply insulted (since I intend it as
praise) if I say that I think he is a political theorist. I think that plainly he is
already a significant one. I think that he may become a major one if he can resist the temptation to make a career of defense of his first book.
DWIGHT WALDO.
University of California (Berkeley).
* If the point is that I do not have "authority" to validate this value judgment, then
I am entitled to ask a central question of political theory: What makes authority legitimate? The positivist answer to this is in turn tautological.
6 Perhaps my present conviction will be deepened by understanding the distinction.
On the one hand, questions of value are airily or arbitrarily dismissed; the question of
the "validity" of a value is meaningless. On the other hand, as I now understand it,
all decisions flow in part from unproved value premises. I understand it, if at all, crudely
and by theological analogy: fact and value are like body and soul, distinct in essence,
subject to different laws, in life inextricably joined, separable only at the will of God. Facts
are facts and can be dealt with as such unless they happen to concern people and action.
If they concern people and action, then facts become fused with values, "in fact" but not
in logic. Thus it is possible at the same time to admit the pervasiveness of values but to
refuse to deal with them as values. In reply to any question concerning them, the logical
positivist points to an escalator that ascends tnd ascends but never arrives anywhere.