1 The Antinomy of Taste
It is a curious fact that two popular meanings of the word ātasteā in modern English constitute a rather glaring antinomy. The well-known adage that āthere is no disputing about tasteā has served as a sort of informal theoretical definition of the term, equating ātasteā with a merely personal and highly subjective preference. Alongside this relativistic version of ātaste,ā however, has persisted a normative usage of the word in the sense of āgood tasteā as opposed to bad. The very notion of good taste would seem to imply that not all tastes are, in fact, equal. These two ways of construing the word ātasteā are clearly incompatible with one another, and so in this instance contemporary linguistic practice would appear to be confused.
Perhaps the inconsistency is due a misinterpretation of the Latin expression De gustibus non est disputandum (literally, There is no disputing of tastes), which was probably the original source of the English saying. What has been elevated to the level of an epistemological principle may be little more than a polite or politic turn of phrase, not actually meant to assert the impossibility of rational dispute over any and all tastes, but simply intended to indicate that in some instances the best policy as regards differing tastes is one of ālive and let liveā. After all, many tastes are primarily self-regarding, such as oneās favorite time of year or type of ethnic cuisine, and so naturally bring idiosyncratic factors into play. For example, while many people have a preferred type of ethnic cuisine, the first-hand culinary experience upon which such judgments are based can vary considerably from person to person. Individuals often arrive at their personal preferences in a casual and somewhat haphazard manner, and so have little or no pretension to disinterested esthetic evaluation, but are simply reporting upon what they happen to like or dislike. In such instances, when the goal of inquiry is to learn about a given personās preference in some matter, the fact that individuals often differ in their predilections looms large. Hence, to observe that āThereās no disputing about tastesā may simply be to suggest that in certain circumstances one should treat the variation of tastes among individuals as given and unproblematic.
Observe how dramatically matters change when the goal of inquiry is the assessment or ranking of ends or things. In the communal quest for excellence the laissez-faire attitude is replaced by a perfect willingness to argue about taste. Social life abounds with such instances, and the functioning of countless panels, juries, commissions, and the like in conferring awards, distinctions, etc. certainly belies any thorough-going skepticism as regards judgments of taste. Indeed, the very work of the world demands reflective assessments of worth. Perhaps under conditions of unlimited time, energy, and materials such assessments could be dispensed with, but in the actual world of limited resources we must pick and choose and so prioritize. Without some way of discriminating the relatively more important from the relatively less important, no prioritization would be possible.
Despite the prevalence of practices which actually assume the reality of good taste, esthetic relativism enjoys great popularity. While ethical relativism also finds many contemporary proponents, its appeal is more limited, perhaps due to the fact that morality is strongly associated with duty or obligation in popular opinion, and these latter notions are difficult to reconcile with the view that āanything goesā when it comes to right and wrong in human conduct. In any event, there is no popular equivalent to moral duty for esthetic subject matter, and it is often assumed that esthetic judgments are basically a function of personal enjoyment. The individualism and consumerism of modern social life provide convenient formulas for understanding the esthetic qua personal enjoyment. The former suggests that as long as no one else comes to harm through the individualās actions, said individual should be free to pursue whatever ends his or her heart desires. And from the latter stems the idea that the customer is king or queen, or at least always right, and so by extension that the individualās esthetic verdict is always valid, at least as applied to his or her own affairs. Who, after all, is better equipped than the individual him- or herself to know what he or she really likes?
We are left, then, with the antinomy of taste: On the one hand, the idea of taste implies the existence of an interpersonal standard of judgment, and on the other it implies the impossibility of any such standard. At this point, one may well wonder how modern linguistic usage arrived at such an impasse. The Prussian philosopher Immanuel Kant described a very similar problem in the waning years of the eighteenth century, which he also referred to as the āantinomy of tasteā. Kant understood the problem to be primarily metaphysical in nature, and to admit of a metaphysical solution. His treatment of it constitutes a substantial portion of his third and last critique, The Critique of Judgment. Although Kantās theory of taste has proven to be an important contribution to modern esthetics, his influence has made itself felt more through setting the terms of debate for the discipline than through his proposed solutions. Kantās philosophy of taste is quite technical, and to consider it in detail would take us too far afield from our present topic. However, in passing let us note that many contemporary thinkers are skeptical of Kantās account due to its underlying assumptions and methodology. His analysis of taste occurs within the framework of a rationalistic faculty psychology that was long since relegated to the museum pieces of social science. Much the same can be said for his brand of metaphysical idealism, which is highly speculative by contemporary standards and conceived for a Newtonian paradigm that is no longer employed by the natural sciences.
Prior to the nineteenth century, those who wrote about taste often assumed for it not only an esthetic dimension, but also a moral and political one. As we shall see, the modern version of taste is but a shadow of the original concept, which first emerged during the Renaissance. Kantās philosophy played a crucial role in restricting taste to esthetic subject matter, a delimitation whose germ was already contained in his earlier work in ethics, wherein sentiment was banned from moral judgment. Indeed, the exclusion of taste from morals and politics was perhaps Kantās most important legacy for subsequent thinking about taste.
The overall thrust of Kantās philosophy is metaphysical, and virtually everywhere in his system a stark contrast is drawn between what is universal and necessary on the one hand, and what is merely particular and contingent on the other. The proper domain of philosophy is the former, and Kant leaves it to empirical sciences, such as physics and anthropology, to study the latter. His investigation of taste proceeds along these familiar lines, resulting in a protracted analysis of the metaphysical underpinnings of good taste. He argues that genuine good taste is disinterested and contemplative, and so should not be confounded with mere preference, which involves the satisfaction of desire, either directly, in terms of pleasure, or indirectly, in terms of usefulness. Whereas taste takes beauty for its object, and fells its verdict without regard to immediate environing conditions, preference is inherently existential in the sense that it involves a specific interest in its object via desire. Taste operates independently of desire, and arises from a āfree playā of the imagination and the understanding, so far as they are in harmony with one another. By contrast, desire introduces a whole host of contingent and particularizing features into judgment, since individuals can differ in their native degree of sensitivity to certain stimuli, their current physical state, their ulterior motives, etc. As concerns what is agreeable or pleasant, Kant grants that empirical generalizations are possible, as when a certain host is found to be convivial by his or her guests, but that these generalizations never guarantee the universality required by true judgments of taste.1
Beyond making a few preliminary observations about popular views of taste, Kant pays little attention to taste as a social phenomenon. A study of the historical record would be largely irrelevant to his purposes, since history is an account of human doings, and so is replete with all the happenstance, short-sightedness, and even idiocy enabled by freedom of the will. According to Kant, the sort of historiography which would be philosophically relevant does not yet exist. In his essay āIdea for a Universal History from a Cosmopolitan Point of Viewā, he raises the possibility of historical study which would be capable of identifying patterns of development in humankindās progressive realization of its native potential as the planetās only rational species. He notes, however, that such an undertaking is still waiting for its Kepler or Newton to emerge from the ranks of the historians. Furthermore, Kant maintains that the metaphysical precondition for universal history is a teleological plan underlying nature. Consequently, in more mundane historical phenomena he finds little of genuine interest for the philosopher.
2 The Ethos of Gentility
In what follows, I will argueācontra Kantāthat the solution to the antinomy of taste is not to be found in metaphysics, but lies rather in history. The first lead that we will consider in this respect is the etymology of ātaste,ā a word history which is particularly revealing. The termās modern career in the figurative sense of discerning or refined judgment has been traced to Renaissance Italy, where it makes its debut as gusto. By the end of the seventeenth century, the figurative sense had spread to the Spanish gusto, the French goĆ»t, the German Geschmack, as well as to the English taste.2 In addition to this early modern line of development, there is etymological evidence that in some cultures the metaphorical extension of taste from the palate to the mind occurred prior to the Renaissance. In classical Latin the word sapio had the meaning of āto tasteā in the literal sense, as well as āto have good tasteā in the figurative one. By extension it also meant to be prudent, wise, etc., and as a Latin root word is most familiar to us today in its association with wisdom (e.g., sapient, sage, etc.). Along the same lines, the ancient Hebrew ×ÖøÖ«×¢Ö·× (taam) stood for both ātasteā and ājudgment,ā and had associated meanings of discernment and discretion.
As we have already noted, before the concept of taste was more or less usurped by modern esthetics in the late eighteenth century, it was treated by some writers as a general capacity for good decision-making in practical affairs. This conception of taste was obviously normative, and so would appear to inevitably draw us back to the question of the warrant for the interpersonal claims of good taste. What quality or property was it that made some personās or groupās taste good, and so served to legitimate it as a standard?
Though the answer certainly runs against the grain of the modern sensibility, it is nonetheless near to hand: Good taste was the taste characteristic of the best sort of people, the aristoi or noble classes. From our contemporary vantage point this response would appear to beg the question, since we want to be shown why we should accord any social class inherent superiority over any other, but of course such egalitarian skepticism is of relatively recent date. Throughout the better part of the history of civilization, the existence of a class of superiors or ābettersā was simply taken for granted as a fundamental fact of life. This is not to suggest, however, that the notion of good taste sprung up wherever a noble class was able to establish itself. Historically, the presence of an aristocracy was a necessary condition, but not a sufficient one, for the emergence of a social code of good taste. Another precondition for the development of such a code was the spread of humanism, at least among the upper classes, and of course this additional prerequisite considerably winnows the list of potential candidates.
We will henceforth refer to a full-fledged system of mores based on taste as an ethos of good taste or an ethos of gentility. The emergence of such an ethos took place in at least five different historical settings, to wit, in classical Greece, republican Rome, Confucian China, Renaissance Europe, and Victorian England. Although this list is not intended to be exhaustive, it does comprise what are probably the most fully developed instances of the ethos of gentility.
The aforementioned humanism present in the societies under discussion involved an explicit awareness of and interest in social arrangements, especially of man qua Kulturmensch, that is, as a being who can only realize his or her full potential through the assimilation of culture. The overall standpoint is explicitly political, and ethical issues are viewed as comprising a subfield of politics. On the other hand, the writers in these traditions were generally ignorant of the culturally and historically contingent character of human nature and social goods. Greek philosophers, Chinese mandarins, and European moralists all took themselves to be describing a universal human nature and a natural order of values. In other words, their humanistic philosophies were often quite unconsciously ethnocentric.
On the whole, the driving forces of modernity have not been kind to the genteel ideal-types. The global march of industrial capitalism has probably constituted...