Regularities in experience, according to [Hume], give rise to habits of expectation; thus
it is predictions conforming to past regularities that are normal or valid. But Hume overlooks the fact that some regularities do and some do not establish such habits.
(Goodman, 1955, 81)
Goodman’s solution is his theory of projection. My solution is to say that certain expectations, in the form of standardly used but thoroughly unexamined inferences bring with them the history of those expectations. And they do so by way of there having been developed over time acceptable inferences which we are taught to make because they have been successful in guiding action.
Yet, when we invoke the power of history we must be careful. History is a complicated mistress. While she grounds us in the past, we must not, at the same time, consider the past as something concrete. In short, to be grounded is not to be stuck. I am not denying that there were events that transpired over time in a certain order, etc. Let’s call that “what actually happened” or History 1. Nor am I talking about history as the narrative we construct about what happened: History 2. Furthermore, in constructing such a narrative we need to be alert to the historiography we employ, History 3. Thus we might employ certain terms in a manner that suggests they are constants. An example could possibly be my use of the term “Dutch” in describing the Graves complex. On the other hand, if I am true to my earlier comments, terms like “Dutch” ought to change over time due to a variety of historical contingencies. Thus it would be inappropriate to refer the people living in the area around the Netherlands as Dutch in 1250 BCE since, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term was first used in the 9th Century BCE to refer to Germans (hence, Deutschland) and only gradually restricted to what we now know as the Netherlands, beginning in the 16th century. So, in a sense we can say that history changes, that is, History 2 changes. The narrative changes as we learn more about the past and as we change our criteria for how to construct an adequate narrative (History 3). Keeping that thought in mind, we can offer a different, and even a positive assessment of the Graves complex in The Hague.
In their attempt to hold back the sea and increase its usable land mass, the Dutch have become increasingly concerned and identified with the technology of dikes and pumps, and with their constant battle with nature to secure their limited space. The meaning of being Dutch has changed from being identified with a sea faring colonial empire to that associated with a highly technologically sophisticated culture directly confronting nature. In the light of that evolving history, Graves, in his The Hague complex, instead of what I had suggested above, could be seen as looking to the future of the Netherlands, with its increasing dependency on massive and sophisticated technologies and how it might solve past problems in a technologically futuristic fashion. A closer look at the The Hague complex reveals a complicated set of interconnected buildings and elevators that might be construed as a futuristic dam, pointing the way to the next stage in the evolution of Dutch culture. Hence its massive and forbidding base can now still be seen as massive, but because that kind of a dam needs that kind of base. Further, what on our initial interpretation we saw as threatening the park on one side of it, can now be seen as defending it from the intruding ocean. Likewise, constructing a 60 story skyscraper in the middle of Delft’s central square might also suggest the future by way of providing a means for providing living space in the face of decreasing opportunities for land expansion and the need for alternatives to the traditional Dutch way of living in single family houses. In so doing, what, on one view, could be seen as an affront to Dutch cultural sensibilities, might, on this one, be a means for suggesting solutions for historical problems.
One final example: the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. To put it mildly, when first unveiled it raised a significant fuss. In a line with traditional town houses facing Central park, it presents not a traditional flat face but a curved space clearly descending in a spiral from top to bottom. In one sense it can be seen as totally out of place in that environment. It breaks the line one’s eye follows as you look up the avenue. It sticks out and disturbs its surroundings. What was Frank Lloyd Wright thinking?
Let me suggest that he was thinking about the history of art and demanding that we reconsider how we think about it as well. Traditional art museums present their displays in disjointed rooms. In this way we can look at 17th Century Dutch painting in one room, and 19th Century American Romanticism in another, thereby allowing us to capture a snap shot of art history. But what if that is the wrong way to view the history of art? Is it really the case that we can draw clear boundaries between the 16th and 17th centuries, or between American and Dutch art? What Wright said to us via the Guggenheim is that the history of art is a continuum and to see it that way you need a different type building, and the rest is history, so to speak.
In sum: Common sense is a set of responses to the challenges of an environment based on an historical appreciation of that environment and what counts as successful action in it. To be successful means you need to be thinking not just about the history, but also about the problems that history has confronted, some of which remain unresolved. Common sense is, then a way of thinking about decision making which leads to actions that take into account the successes, failures, and values of the past and builds the future in light of those successes, failures, and values.129 Finally, I would add that one of the hallmarks of common sense is its appropriation of new techniques as they are developed. It is not commonsensical to reject new materials, technologies, and techniques when they provide the means to solve problems we have been unable to resolve in the past. So, if common sense principles of architectural design insist the space must fit, what it takes to fit includes more than some kind of visual harmony; fitting also includes fixing problems. In so doing, we may be forced to acknowledge what we have been unwilling to do before, that older values have been supplanted. In that respect, common sense is not nostalgic, it always looks to the future.130
Bruegmann, R., 1985, Utilitas, Firmitas, Venustas, and the Vox Populi, in: The Critical Edge: Controversy in Recent American Architecture, T. A. Marder, ed., MIT Press, Cambridge, MA, pp. 1-24.
129
For an elaboration of this view see the decision-making model developed in (Pitt, 2000).
130
I wish to thank Carla Corbin and Thomas Staley for many helpful comments and corrections on earlier drafts and especially to Steven Moore and Thomas Staley for pushing me to the necessary conclusion. Of course, remaining errors remain my responsibility.