The University of Cape Town’s descent into chaos has been the subject of much commentary: the rescinding of Flemming Rose’s invitation to deliver the 2016 TB Davie lecture on academic freedom; the burning, covering up, and removal of artworks; the vandalism and destruction of property; the disruption of lectures and meetings; and the disastrous attempts to set up an Institutional Reconciliation and Transformation Commission (IRTC), inter alia. These failures are linked to a more general malaise that is afflicting the university: the failure to think.
Thinking well is difficult: it requires highly developed cognitive and emotional functioning. Humans are by nature irrational creatures, and our thought processes are prone to unravel, especially in times of stress or distress. It is thus vitally important that we - as individuals and even more so as a society - develop ways in which thinking is protected from the assaults of irrationality. Universities are among the few places that society has set up to protect and foster the claims of reason.
There are many ways in which reason can go astray: it can fail on its own terms, such as when we commit logical fallacies or fail to see the implications of our arguments. We can draw conclusions for which we have insufficient evidence, or fail to notice that some of our beliefs are mutually inconsistent. We can perhaps think of such errors as failures within reason - they are amenable to correction once they are pointed out to us, and are thus usually insufficient to jeopardise rational agency. Even when we commit these kinds of cognitive errors, we are still in the business of giving reasons for our actions. One of the aims and benefits of education is to teach us how to reason well, and how to avoid the failures to which we are prone.
But there are other, more treacherous, ways in which reason can go awry. What I’ll term failures of reason occur when reason itself is hijacked: if we cannot think coherently because we are overwhelmed by feelings, this would be a failure of reason because we are motivated to speak or act in ways that are not amenable to the constraints of reason. Such kinds of irrationality are more insidious because, not being governed by principles of reason at all, they are not usually open to correction via rational persuasion or education. Indeed, someone in the grip of this kind of irrationality may view reason with suspicion. John Stuart Mill, in his essay “The Subjection of Women”, notes that sometimes reason-giving only strengthens the stance of those in the grip of an irrational belief: He writes:
“So long as an opinion is strongly rooted in the feelings, it gains rather than loses in stability by having a preponderating weight of argument against it. For if it were accepted as a result of argument, the refutation of the argument might shake the solidity of the conviction; but when it rests solely on feeling, the worse it fares in argumentative contest, the more persuaded its adherents are that their feeling must have some deeper ground, which the arguments do not reach.”
The discovery of the dynamic unconscious by Freud and his followers provides us with more insight into how reason can go astray. Freud, Klein, Bion and others outlined how unconscious mentality governed by so-called “primary processing” operates differently from ordinary rational thinking governed by “secondary processing”. Primary processing has some of the following characteristics: