The history of Chinese education has been one of ideological indoctrination. The expression sounds too harsh, but it reflects the historical facts. Until the educational revolution initiated by Tsai Yuan-fei (1876-1940) at the beginning of the twentieth century, Chinese education was no more than ideological training aimed at establishing a bureaucracy, training technocrats and defending the interests of the rulers. Despite Tsai’s appeal for a pure education and for science, Chinese education continues along this traditional path. It is a well-established truism of our history that Chinese education is an ideological education in disguise, a disguise which fell off in the Tiananmen massacre (l989)1  and even earlier in the so-called Cultural Revolution (1966-76), the Chinese holocaust.2  Its ugly soul is gradually exposed when the students resort to protest and revolt to reject the tightly controlled system of education adopted by both communists and nationalists. The military presence in school, the long required hours of political brainwashing, the over-burdened classes of militarism and authoritarianism, all show that education for freedom, for the sake of knowledge (Wilhelm von Humboldt, 1767-1835), or for democracy (John Dewey, 1859-1952) are either strange words or simple rhetoric.3  This chapter aims to depict a clear picture of the nature of ideology and its power. It is the first step in demarcating the line between moral and ideological education and, consequently, in revealing the hidden but explosive danger implicit in ideological education adopted by authoritarian rulers.

The term "ideology," first used by the French Encyclopedists, has been unfortunate, ambiguous and contradictory. Before the Encyclopedists, ideology had been understood by Francis Bacon (1561-1626) as both positive and negative. He conceived of ideology in terms of a critique of false idola, of fallacious arguments. But his severe attack against the idola tribus, idola fori and idola theatri served as a means to work out the correct idea.4  The French Encyclopedists further developed Bacon’s idea by identifying ideology as the most correct system of ideas, which serves as the foundation of our knowledge and as the guideline of conduct. Such an understanding of ideology remained uncontested until Karl Marx (1818-1883), who saw ideology as a sheer reactionary force, a naked instrument fabricated by the rulers to serve their interests. It is also the false consciousness of the oppressed class which seeks satisfaction in it.5  Marx’s violent assault on ideology does not, however, dismiss its magic seduction. Ironically, the most ardent and fanatical believers in ideology are Marx’s followers. With them, ideology rediscovers its positive character in what they proudly named Marxism-Leninism, a system of ideas which claims to be the ultimate science, providing the principles of human society, or better, of the proletariat.6  However, once again history proves that such an ideology is instead a great myth, the "false" consciousness of the twentieth century. Contrary to its boast, communism could neither satisfy human needs nor meet scientific criteria. In its nature, one finds a fascist soul; beneath its humanist appearance is hidden a demon. In the light, it appears as an even more rigid and brutal system of defending the interests of the rulers. It is exactly the false ideology that its founder, Marx, had tried to destroy.7 

The controversy on the nature of ideology demands thorough reflection. Here we shall defend the thesis that ideology is historically and consecutively both positive and negative. By studying its genetic development, its effectiveness and its obsolescence, we shall try to incorporate into a more systemic body of human cognitive development both Karl Mannheim’s (1893-1947)8  thesis of ideology as social structure (of either a particular or a total character) and Paul Ricoeur’s (1913-)9  thesis of ideology as social function and cultural imagination. Consequently, we seek to reject the theme developed, but not followed through, by Marx and Daniel Bell, i.e. the end of ideology,1 0 by proving that we cannot escape ideology, but that we can criticize the old one and build a new one.

The French Encyclopedists were not the first to invent ideology, even though the term ideology is strongly associated with their works. Actually, they followed Bacon who had replaced false idola with correct ideas constructed on experience and experiment. Thus, to Bacon, ideology must be a system or, at least, a study of correct ideas with the double function of preventing false idols and guiding true knowledge.1 1 The Encyclopedists went a step further by holding the view that the correct idea must be built on human nature. Therefore, like Bacon, they embraced a double task of criticising a false understanding of human nature and then looking for the true human nature. Etienne Bonnet de Condillac (1715-1780) argued that Bacon and John Locke (1632-1704) had not gone far enough in locating the source of ideas in experience and observation. According to Condillac, the source should be human sensations.1 2 Pierre Cabanis and Antoine Louis Claude Destutt de Tracy systematised Condillac’s philosophical sensism, while Claude Adrien Helvetius applied it to politics.1 3 To Cabanis, physical sensibility is the basic factor not only in knowledge, but also in human intellectual and moral life.1 4 De Tracy was much more radical in viewing ideology as part of zoology; human psychology, i.e. "the science of ideas", should be studied in biological terms. In a word, human nature is simply identified with human sensations and the human mind is understood in "psychological" (i.e. physical) terms. Not surprisingly, they dismissed the concept of human nature in religion as unscientific and nonsensical.

First, we cannot naively accuse Plato of being a day-dreamer or an unscientific visionary. As a matter of fairness, we must accept the fact that he discovered the theory of ideas not simply by imagination, but through a long critical examination of all the theories about the universe available to him in his time. Unsatisfied with the simple explanations of his predecessors, he developed further the view that there must be a point of departure or something which serves as the foundation of the universe.1 5 However, such a thing should not be a simple appearance such as water, air, number or whatever. Obviously, such a way of doing philosophy was tacitly adopted by most of the scientists of his time and perhaps even today. The obsession with an Archimedian point has always been the hallmark of scientists and ideologues alike. Descartes’ Ego cogitans, Leibniz’s monad, Newton’s mechanics have been thought of as the Archimedian point for a new science, and this kind of thinking has been justified by the tremendous advance of science, and by the refinement of thinking. However, its success often is accompanied by a danger of stagnancy, and, especially, a tendency towards negative ideology. The fact that such a way of doing research is far from perfect is seen in its tendency to regard useful ideas as eternally valid and true. Faithful to the premise (correct idea), only a certain method (analytic) is accepted. Such a way of thinking is conservative, deterministic,1 6 and not always correct due to its incompleteness.1 7 Since Edmund Husserl (1859-1938) and Kurt Godel (1906-1978),1 8 philosophers and scientists agree that: (1) what philosophers and scientists observe does not appear in its full reality. As we know only a part of a phenomenon’s partial appearance, any conclusion based simply on our observation of the phenomenon may be correct in some aspect, but incorrect in others. (2) The fact that the observer often is influenced by his social, historical and cultural milieu in perceiving the object, in judging and classifying its appearance, means that our knowledge of the thing often is pre-determined and hence biased. (3) Peter Winch (1926-) noted another fatal mistake, i.e. the category mistake of analogy and synthesis to our knowledge.1 9 We are often seduced by the ease of comparing phenomenal appearances or unrelated things according to some categories which are often invented by us, while ignoring that the thing known by us does not have exactly the same characteristics as the other unknown thing. Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) might have been correct in insisting on the unknowableness of the thing. Our point is, the alpha point sought by scientists and philosophers cannot be regarded as the ultimate reality playing the foundation-role of all things. Such mistakes render the procedure of research and observation fallacious. Therefore, we can conclude that ideology may be fallacious if its genetic construction is wrongly understood or falsely perceived.

Second, after having discovered the Archimedian point, the scientist applies his theory in relevant fields, but his application serves primarily as a test. Only when his theory stands up to the tests can he generalize it.2 0 The ideologue does the same by following the same procedure, and he may be rigorously scientific.

However, a close look manifests a big difference between the ideologue and the scientist. On the one hand, the scientist tries to apply his theory only to the relevant field while the ideologue prefers to generalize his theory and extend it to all fields, preferably practical fields. The ideologue conceives of ideology as a body of political, moral and religious beliefs. On the other hand, the scientist often revises his theory in light of new discoveries or when it appears ineffective or irrelevant.2 1 He reexamines not only the conclusion but also the procedure. In contrast, the ideologue stands inert to new discovery, and is reactionary with regard to ineffectiveness or irrelevancy. He may blame the subordinate executor for wrongdoing by insisting on the absolute correctness of his theory.

In saying that ideology, in its genesis, bears a remarkable resemblance to science we want to make the point that ideology is not quite false in its developmental phase. However, a clarification of its scientific status must be made here. Ideology is not science, especially not exact science. The claim of Marxists on the scientific-status of their ideology is, in Marx’s mind, unjustified.2 2 Of course, Friedrich Engels (1820-1895) might have inclined to this version of Marxist science in his Dialectics of Nature, but such a claim contradicts Marx’s understanding of human science as a branch of human knowledge acquired from human activities which are variable and developmental. The fact that ideology is correct in some phase or aspect, and equally incorrect in some other phase or aspect, confirms our point that ideology can be understood and judged from the point of view of its genetic process.

The fact that culture is almost indefinable is due not only to its richness and complexity, but also to its dynamic characteristics. Culture is in its first phase a process of synthesizing human experiences, evaluating and reevaluating them. In the second phase, culture either surfaces in the form of such common values as language and art, or is expressed in a hidden form and at a deeper level of human consciousness. In a third phase, culture is identified with the Zeitgeist, i.e. the most common or universal expression of history. Although we would not follow Hegel (1770-1831) in claiming the universality of culture, we hold that culture expresses at least a human effort of building common values based on their successful experience in dealing with problems, satisfying human needs and defending their interests. Thus, we understand culture not only in terms of language (Clifford Geerzt), or morals (Confucianism), or technology (civilization), or arts, but more precisely all forms of human commonality which bear the above described functions and characteristics. The cultural analysis of Kroeber and Kluckholn results in an over-production of 300 definitions and 164 concepts.2 3 Actually, these definitions and concepts are worked out from what we mean by human forms of commonality in (l) dealing with human problems, (2) satisfying basic human needs, (3) defending human interests and (4) looking for a better life.

It would not be difficult, however, to point out that such an argument begs the question. First, one overlooks an important feature of culture: Unlike a matter which may be entirely dissolved, culture will never completely disappear. It is better to say that culture is transformed or enriched instead of dying off. A brief survey of our own culture would verify our understanding: our present day culture is rooted in old values, enriched with new values acquired from recent human efforts at problem-solving, and open to all possible new values. The example of Chinese filial piety confirms the above view: instead of being swept away by new and modern imported ideas as predicted by many Western-educated Chinese scholars, such as the members of May-Fourth Movement, it survives. But, of course, it does not remain intact in its old form; it no longer claims to be the sole structure of the family. In fact, it is transformed by absorbing new ideas on family, on the relationship between parents and children, etc., into a less rigid, less formal and more flexible kind of filial piety. Today, most Chinese still consider filial piety as the quintessence of familial structure, but they no longer accept its old form or regard it as the nucleus of the modern family. We still regard it as indispensable, but no longer as a unique value.2 4 Second, filial piety is still effective in solving family problems: conflict between family members is still solved by means of the parents’ authority, or by the recognition of such family codes as filial piety. Further, filial piety could play a particular role in education and indirectly in solving social problems.2 5 The recent crisis of education stems mostly from neglect of family-education, and consequently from its erosion.2 6 The classic example of Mencius (317-289 B.C.) who was primarily educated by his mother is still accepted by Chinese culture as an effective model of education and of social problem-solving. The success of the overseas Chinese justifies the effectiveness of family-education.

Analogously, we may say that even morals are not a priori laws, but rather a set of solutions constructed a posteriori by social beings to deal with their problems.2 7 The process of moral construction or the process of moralisation bears a remarkable resemblance to the process of ideological construction.

Generally, one may take morals to be a set of laws imposed by mythical gods, as in primitive societies or in earlier Greek civilization, and faithfully execute them. However, in the light of new studies on the nature of mythology by anthropologists, theologians such as Rudolf Bultmann, and especially by Freudian depth-psychologists, these seemingly a priori moral laws are actually seen to be constructed a posteriori on a set of agreements—voluntary or involuntary—by the members involved in social conflicts. They are "voluntary," "autonomous," and "conscientious" if both parts of the community reach agreement on the basis of equality in power, interest, and free decision. They are "involuntary," "ideological," and "alienated" if the agreement is attained by means of violence, or external force, and if it does not reflect the interests of the ruled. The first kind of morals is sought after and defended by Aristotle, while the second kind is characteristic of authoritarian society. Marx dismissed this second kind of morals which he labeled "class-morals."2 8

More concretely, we may formulate their genetic process as follows. First, we sense something wrong by discovering some anomalies in our life. We launch an investigation into it and may discover its reasons. We then think of a solution and apply it to solve our problems. If this goes well, we may adopt it again and again every time such a crisis reappears. If it proves to be ineffective, then we may look for another solution. In the first case, the effective solution is accepted as a model or a standard to deal with problems at its very first step. Slowly, it becomes a kind of custom unchallenged by the community. It then becomes a kind of law if it meets no resistance and is still effective. The example of filial piety in Confucian society is a case in point. The conflict between parents and children is "normal" due to the growth of children, to their different world view, interests, etc. But the parents may regard such a conflict which jeopardizes their own interests as disturbing. To avoid such a conflict, they discover a kind of solution: educating the children to be obedient and to revere them. Such a solution seems to be very effective since the children themselves, once indoctrinated, believe they ought to do so. In fact, the children follow such a standard not only because they are taught, but because they may discover that they too could benefit from such a solution. They may be entitled to inherit the wealth left behind by their parents, and they may also find it relevant in dealing with their own children. Such a solution is then accepted by the community, and with time it becomes a kind of rule or law. It binds morally; de facto and de jure it is a moral law.2 9

In a word, the process of moralisation begins with a human attempt to find a solution to a certain conflict, and ends with the human effort of institutionalising such a solution. Filial piety becomes a moral law governing the conduct of the children, the symbol of parent-child relationships, and the fundamental principle of family.3 0

The birth of science was hailed as an emancipation from religious and philosophical ideology (Auguste Comte, 1798-1857), and the new scientific age was proudly named the age of Enlightenment. However, the euphoria quickly eroded and science itself began to be doubted.3 1 The reason is simple: science is "scientific" only in terms of its process, but not in its claims.3 2 Once it absolutizes itself as the ultimate purpose—once it assumes the role of God—it becomes scientism, a theory which claims absolute power to determine the fate of mankind. Evidently, scientism too is a kind of ideology.3 3

Here, we may inquire into the reason for such a twist: how could science as an anti-ideological force degenerate into a form of ideology? We will argue that even science could not be exempted from ideology, and that a positive ideology bears remarkably scientific characteristics. To be more clear, we tend to the idea that science is itself a kind of ideology, while scientism as degenerated science is a form of negative ideology. To explain the dramatic change from science to scientism, from positive to negative ideology, we have to discuss the nature of science. Here we are inclined to the view of Karl Popper (1902-1994) that what determines the scientific is not ‘scientific knowledge’ but its procedure of verification and justification: "One can sum up by saying that the criterion of the scientific status of a theory is its falsifiability, or refutability, or testability."3 4

Here we wish neither to agree or disagree with Popper’s overall position, but simply wish to show that science is positive as long as it is in the process of discovery. Popper’s idea is ideological too,3 5 but it is a positive ideology.

The second point is that we need some ideology, even in the world of science, just in order to carry on the project of science. We need some kind of conventional rules or meta-languages just as we need tradition. A breakthrough in science, say a revolution as Thomas Kuhn (1922-) insisted,3 6 is possible not, as Paul Feyerabend (1924-1994) cynically suggested,3 7 by accident, but by a permanent critical reflection on the meta-language, meta-structure, and meta-logic used in traditional science. That means that we need to rely on our previous knowledge to do science, but that we are not allowed to stop short on this kind of meta-language. We have to explore further and adopt the view that science is in a permanent revolution (Popper). This means that we have to take the stand of anti-ideology: to rest on a certain kind of knowledge, even the most certain knowledge, is to fall into the trap of negative ideology. Here we side with Imre Lakatos (1922-1974) in arguing: "The proving power of the intellect or the senses was questioned by the skeptics more than two thousand years ago; but they were browbeaten into confusion by the glory of the Newtonian physics. The success of Albert Einstein (1879-1955) again turned the tables and now very few philosophers or scientists still think that scientific knowledge is, or can be, proven knowledge. But few realize that with this the whole classical structure of intellectual values falls in ruins and has to be replaced, one cannot simply water down the ideal of proven truth—as some logical empiricists do—to the ideal of ‘probable truth’ or—as some sociologists of knowledge do—to truth by (changing) consensus."3 8

Lakatos’ view is close to the thesis of Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-) that we cannot escape from tradition3 9 just as we cannot escape from positive ideology.4 0 Thus, our main argument will follow the line that we cannot blindly take Marx’s view for granted and reject all kinds of ideology. What we propose is to criticize such an ideology, to review it and to transform it as Hegel might have done.

Since Nietzsche,4 1 arts are no longer understood in terms of categories established by the faculty of knowledge,4 2 but in terms of the human faculty of conceiving, which is infinite and undefined. Francois Lyotard (1924-), following Nietzsche and Martin Heidegger (1889-1976), goes even so far as to claim that arts aim at "the sublime" and that the project of synthesizing aesthetic experiences into a unity which determines beauty is destined to be doomed.4 3 Actually, Lyotard has dramatized the antinomy of the two faculties of conceiving and presenting, and consequently the antagonism between arts as "the sublime" and arts as the "beautiful." He fails to discover an internal relationship between the two faculties and hence between the sublime and the beautiful. Let us explain his failure by relying on the human power of discovering "the sublime" and the human faculty of expressing or presenting "the beautiful."

To be more clear, we may describe the formation of the ideology of beauty as follows. In the first phase, we discover the sublime which is unexpressed and not presentable. The second phase would begin with a reflection on the sublime, and with the discovery of a common feeling of the sublime. The third phase is seen in the human effort to reduce, classify, and categorize the experiences of the sublime. Finally, beauty is constructed from such a process. That means, beauty is not randomly or arbitrarily constructed as Lyotard falsely accused, and that beauty bears an ideology of a positive rather than of a negative character. However, the concept of beauty could become negative in the course of a human change in aesthetic consciousness. That is, once we discover a new common feeling of the sublime, we need to work out a new concept of the beautiful. Failing to discover and to accept the historicity of aesthetic consciousness,4 4 failing to see the relationship between the sublime and beauty as a certain dialectical relationship,4 5 is to fall into the trap of negative ideology.

One may object to our understanding by accusing us of being the victim of another kind of ideology: that embraced by David Hume (1711-1776), Locke and especially the positivists. One may argue for the necessity of a certain kind of metaphysics, meta-language and meta-rules in language games and raise the question of how and why we come to the idea of a perfect, absolute, and eternal ideology if such an idea does not exist. The transcendentality of knowledge proposed by Kant seems not quite successful in wiping out the meta-foundation as Heidegger has proved.4 6 Kant might have been good at treating metaphysica generalis as transcendental philosophy, but he failed to do justice to metaphysica specialis with his transcendental method.4 7

Marx is not concerned with the question of foundation, but with the problem of how we discover, construct and apply the meta-theory. To Marx the discovery of ideology is by no means a matter of pure knowledge, but a way of defending the interests of a certain class. That means, ideology could be right, scientific, etc., only if its process of discovery, construction and application is scientific. Therefore, it is not our business to discuss ideology as such, but to criticize the process of ideologisation. Hence, Marx’s main task is to examine (l) how ideology is constructed, i.e. the process of ideologisation, and (2) what kind of ideology is scientific, and therefore acceptable. Marx’s analysis of the first question includes his critique of the phenomenon of alienation in religion, politics and economics, i.e., the three forms of ideology adopted by capitalism, while his work on a scientific theory which can satisfy the demand of the proletariat gives birth to a new ideology which his followers proudly christened Marxism. Louis Althusser (1918-1990) for example attempts to prove, with remarkable vigor, the scientific characteristics of Marx’s ideology in its genetic process.4 8 However, Althusser fails badly due to his mistake of taking ideology to be science. We will follow Marx’s arguments to show that any form of ideology, even Marx’s own, could not stand the test of historical change, and more fundamentally, the test of human development. Any form of ideology cannot claim the universality of humankind, but only the particularity of a class, a historical period, etc.

In his earlier works, influenced by Hegel, Marx rejected any form of ideology which he regarded as false, alienated, or a metaphysical distortion of reality. We will concentrate on Marx’s understanding of ideology in this period. Up to 1844, Marx understood ideology in terms of religion and politics. Even if the term ideology does not appear in his earlier writings, the material elements of the future concept are already visible in his critique of religion, and in his objection to Hegel’s concept of the state. To him, ideology was the inversion, the distortion of reality and finally, the alienation of man. He saw in religion, for example, an expression of the contradictions and sufferings of the real world. Following Ludwig Feuerbach (1804-1872), he claimed this to be the cause of alienation: "Religion is the fantastic realization of the human being, because the human being has attained no true reality."4 9

Similarly, he criticized Hegel’s concept of the state as the inversion of reality. The Hegelian political state was not the product of an illusory perception, but of a false construction of reality, or better, of an inversion of reality. In his Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right, he expressed this idea as follows: The state and society produce religion "which is an inverted consciousness of the world, because they are an inverted world."5 0

After his break with Feuerbach, Marx used for the first time the term ideology to attack the young Hegelians who, according to him, had not changed much from Hegel. They had replaced the Hegelian premise with their own, by forgetting that they were in no way combating the real, existing world.5 1 Actually, they still believed that the object of philosophy was consciousness and not the real social contradictions, as Marx affirmed. Thus, ideology meant a false consciousness built on a false basis was therefore negative.

After l858, Marx rarely used the term ideology, though he developed it further and applied it in his analysis of the conditions and nature of the capitalist world. The texts of Grundrisse and Capital unmistakably show that ideology is meant as the distortion of the conditions and the nature of the value-exchange, and that such new forms of alienation as reification, fetishism, etc. are the logical consequence of the ideology of capitalism. 5 2

In sum, to Marx, ideology is not only a false consciousness: "Religious estrangement as such occurs only in the realm of consciousness, of man’s inner life, but economic estrangement is that of real life..."5 3 but also the consciousness of a class.5 4 It is not only a production of ideas, or representations such as religions or morals,5 5 but also the distorted condition of our real life.5 6 It is not only a simple illusion,5 7 but also the abstraction of reality.5 8

With these critiques, Marx clearly sees in the process of ideologization the decisive factor determining the nature of ideology. The ideology of the ruling class is born in (l) the process of commodization or fetishization, (2) the process of abstraction of labor (3) the way of defending their interests and (4) the form of exchange.5 9

Marx’s critique of ideology consists of two fundamental characteristics. First, ideology is not quite wrong in the first stage of the process of thinking, either with regard to a specific class, or in dealing with some particular problems. Religion, for example, appears quite plausible as a force of consolation, reaction, resentment against the brutality of the world, or as opium helping man to escape from reality. Specific politics may be helpful to a certain class, and so on. He said of religion: "Religious misery is on the one hand the expression of the real misery, and on the other hand, the protest against the real misery."6 0 He then connected religion with politics, and economy: "The critique of the heaven transforms itself there with into the critique of the earth, the critique of religion into the critique of Rights, the critique of theology into the critique of politics."6 1

The search for a correct idea is the main focus of Marx’s later works. His analysis of Capitalism and its mode of production,6 2 its distortion of economic reality by a process of circulation of capital,6 3 its forms of the process as a whole6 4 and his reconstruction of the history of capitalism6 5 show that he was laboring at a scientific, correct, socially conscious ideology even though he disliked the word. We may venture to say that, having dismissed other forms of ideology, the young Marx was not content with a pure critique. He went a step forward in constructing the correct idea. When Marx declared that "religion, family, state, law, morality, science, art, etc., are only particular modes of production, and fall under its general law," he intended to break down these particular modes and build a universal idea which he then identified as "communism": "Communism is the positive transcendence of private property, as human self-estrangement, and therefore as the real appropriation of the human essence, by and for, man. Communism therefore is the complete return of man to himself as a social being—a return which becomes conscious, and is accomplished within the entire wealth of previous development."6 6

Needless to say, his followers took his writings for granted, and interpreted them word by word. Their main task seems to have been limited to elaborating the scientific character of Marx’s idea,6 7 applying it to a concrete world (Lenin), and, ironically, forcing people to believe in it. From Marx, and against his will, a new ideology is born: communism, the ideology of the 20th century.

Marx was not the first man to engage in such an enterprise. In fact, almost all great thinkers did so. The story of philosophy is the narrative of their struggle against Platonism. But, tragically, they are unable to break its grip. What they could do, and indeed have done, is blame their fellow philosophers on the one hand, and build a new version of Platonism on the other hand. The story of Nietzsche who tried to destroy Platonism but remained Platonian is true with regard to Marx, Heidegger and even Popper. Therefore, we can conclude that humans are obsessed with the idea of "the correct idea" and that one tries to discover it mainly by a critique of "the incorrect idea." We follow this tenet by looking for the key to open the black box of how a correct idea becomes incorrect, and consequently how we can judge its correctness. We will treat the question from the pragmatic,6 8 theoretical and metaphysical perspectives.

From this fundamental thesis, we come to the second thesis, namely, that an idea is correct as long as it is effective, i.e., valuable or usable, that is, if it can solve at least some problem. Failing to meet this requirement, it is no longer valuable or effective, but becomes incorrect. However, precisely here we encounter an epistemological problematic: how do we know or judge the correctness of our act or of a thing. To Max Weber (1864-1920), the correctness or the validity of our action is measured by the degree of achievement of the set purpose. But what happens if even the purpose is in a permanent changing state? The classic definition of correctness (truth) in terms of the adequacy of knowledge and (static) thing would be inapplicable to the living (dynamic) person.6 9 Hence, we understand correctness in terms of effectiveness in solving our problems. Like Popper, we contend that since human problems are in a permanent emerging state, the solution of a problem is not the final purpose (because such a solution will appear obsolete when one changes, or once the problems disappear or reappear in other forms). We accept Popper’s view that solutions are to be upgraded by means of permanent testing. Therefore, the concept of validity or effectiveness can be accepted if it stands up to the test. That means, effectiveness cannot be determined or calculated a priori, but is generated from ad hoc tests which in their turn are needed for ad hoc problems. This kind of pragmatics is built rather ad hoc solutions. Thus, the difference between theory and praxis could be formulated as follows: while in theory we need some transcendental schemata in advance that we later test; in praxis, the thesis and solution are mainly generated in an ad hoc manner. To a peasant, his ad hoc problem would be how to produce needed food and materials. He is not much concerned with the ideas of exchange of production, surplus, deficit, etc. His test is the sufficiency of food. The quota depends not on the demand of the market, but on his family’s needs, and the way of handling or managing work and household. His method is sound if he is succeeding in meeting the demands, needs or quota he set. Failing to reach the aim, his method or ideas turn out to be wrong. He must revise his way of handling the matter; he needs a new idea. Even his needs are not completely known or determined a priori. Most needs come unexpectedly, due to newly emerging problems, discoveries, etc. The need for tools for plowing or harvesting is a fundamental need because it is a conditio sine qua non, but a tractor comes to his mind only if the peasant intends to mass-produce products for the market. In sum, besides basic needs or interests for our life in the wider sense, most human needs, and hence problems, emerge a posteriori in an ad hoc manner.

Satisfying basic needs is often problematic. The history of the human search for solutions dealing with its basic interests and needs forms an important part of human history. In order to find the right solution, one needs first to understand basic human interests and the reason for the conflicts arising from these interests. If with Marx, we could say that pragmatic problems are economic, while with Habermas, communicative, then the search for ideology is a search for the most effective solution to the problems of economic and communicative activities. To Marx, the main reasons for social conflicts, class-division and reification are the unequal and unreasonable distribution of wealth and the build-up of artificial needs and interests. Such inequality is justified by the ideology of the dominant class. Therefore, Marx demands the total abolition of the capitalist system of distribution and, more importantly, its ideology. At the same time, he works out a new "reasonable," "correct" idea based on the most fundamental human power, i.e. labor, with which one distributes wealth in accordance with the principle "from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs."7 0

Habermas develops Marx’s view in a more complete version. For him, the economic factor is undeniably important, but to reduce all human activities to the single aspect of homo labor is to commit the fallacy of reductionism and simplicity. The practical aspects of human activities are not only economic but also moral, political and aesthetic. In short, one is searching for a total solution that is communicative in character.7 1 The ideology which we seek is linguistic and quasi-transcendental. However, he also acknowledges that such a model has to be upgraded, implemented, and in some cases, negated. A model based on human communicative action could serve as a positive ideology; but it could become negative if it is not "transcended" (aufgehoben), for like any linguistic model it could become obsolete once it no longer reflects reality.

(2) The second step in his model of communication is to work out a model based on a consensus of power, interests and needs, which is best seen in language. The linguistic model has a decisive advantage in explaining a new model free of negative ideology: it is both transcendental and empirical, both consensual and reflective, and it is not necessarily rigid in interpretation. From another point of view, the linguistic model offers a relatively free and less oppressive consensus. The partners involved in a communication must sincerely open, agree on a starting condition (consensus), and work towards a new consensus.7 2

Of course, we acknowledge a difference of degree of effectiveness between pure and practical sciences. However, our point is, science is by no means purely theoretical, because it is concerned with human knowledge (Habermas). It would not be appreciated if it had nothing to do with human life. Furthermore, the two characters, universal and necessary, to science can be understood also in terms of universal pragmatics (Habermas). A proposition, say a logical proposition such as "the King of France is bald" is true (universal) but meaningless (not necessary) to a Chinese peasant, simply because it has no-thing to do with the peasant. The idea of a pure science, fully free of interests is hardly accepted by most of us today. To such post-modernists as Michel Foucault (1926-84), Roland Barthes (1915-1980), Derrida and Lyotard, there could be no pure knowledge because science is meant for problem-solving.7 3 That means, a pure ideology is impossible. This impossibility is evident in the incompetence and arrogance of scientism, our modern ideology. We may with certainty say that while science could help us solve our problems, scientism would, at its best, bring us back to the world of mythology. By putting more emphasis on the usefulness or the practicality of science, we are by no means playing against science, or denying its theoretical certainty. In fact, our aim is to distinguish science as such from science as ideology (scientism). The line which determines the difference is the claim of absolute power, and consequently that of domination. Science aims at solving our problems while scientism wants to dictate every aspect of our life. The latter proclaims itself to be the modern god. In other words, while science is set against any form of determinism, scientism takes determinism as its soul.

Second, technical and scientific progress cannot dictate our happiness. Technical and scientific progress has not made us happier. On the contrary, the two world wars were more or less the result of the over-confident and abusive attitude of scientists and politicians. Thus, we can say, scientific progress has a neutral function. It could further human progress, but it could also destroy it. In a word, an ideology is of use if it furthers human progress, but becomes negative if it hinders or destroys it. Any form of absolute ideology such as scientism tends more toward the negative because of its determinism, which means that it leaves no room for other possibilities. It tries to render humans one-dimensional and to return them to Plato’s cave. In short, all forms of negative ideology always bear certain deterministic and conservative characteristics, a point Habermas has discussed brilliantly.7 4

In a previous work,7 5 we attempted to describe ideology in a Kantian manner, namely, from the scientific aspect. Such a description is inadequate because it is based on the dichotomy of truth and falsehood, which is of no use in dealing with practical human problems. They appear incompetent in treating emancipative or progressive human activities. This means that the scientific language-game could not be fully applied to other activities. We may need other language-games to deal with practical activities. Thus, we turn to Marx’s progressive, or better, productive criteria.

The Marxian model has some advantage in dealing with our concrete life, but as it leaves no room for the dynamic force of emancipation, it hinders, instead of helping, our life. Hence, we revised the Marxian approach, and adopted a more balanced attitude toward ideology,7 6 for ideology must be understood from all three fundamental aspects: pragmatic, theoretical and progressive. The multi-dimensional character of human life reveals its openness towards new activities and hence new models or new language-games. For the sake of discussion, we tentatively classify these as: pragmatic, theoretical and progressive. If truth and falseness belongs to the scientific and logical language-game, then rightness and wrongness should be the language of pragmatics or practical activities. Similarly, we venture to say the same about the language of the third aspect of human life: openness and closedness (Popper), emancipation and conservatism (Habermas), hope and despair (Ernst Bloch), salvation and slavery (Judeo-Christian tradition), and so on.

We may judge ideology from its dialectical nature implicit in the history of human development and intellectual growth. If in history, our ideas are enriched by an Aufhebung, i.e., a process of abrogation (negation), preservation and elevation of our concrete experiences,7 7 then in intellectual development we learn by mistakes.7 8 The dialectical movement of history requires first an affirmation, then a negation and finally a new synthesis of our experiences. Each moment is represented by a certain idea, while each historical moment is represented by a certain ideology. This means that each ideology is both positive and negative. It is positive in the moment of affirmation (thesis), while negative in the second movement of negation (antithesis). In the first moment, it is correct because it represents the commonality of a historical period (Hegel), or an historical class (Marx). In the second phase, it becomes incorrect due to the change of reality and hence the change of history. It degrades into a kind of false consciousness (Marx), or a reactionary force (Lenin).

 1 George Hicks, ed., The Broken Mirror: China after Tiananmen (St. James Press, 1991); Lee Feigon, China Rising: The Meaning of Tiananmen (Chicago: Ivan Dee, 1990), etc.

  2 Lee Hong-yung, The Politics of the Chinese Cultural Revolution: A Case Study (California: University of California Press, 1978); Joseph A. William, Christine Wong P. W., and David Zweig, New Perspectives on the Cultural Revolution (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1991).

3 Hu Shi-ming and Eli Seifman, eds., Toward a New World Outlook: A Documentary History of Education in the People’s Republic of China 1949-1976 (AMS Press, 1976); Peter Seybolt, Revolutionary Education in China: Documents and Commentary, rev. ed. (International Arts & Sciences Press, 1973).

4 Francis Bacon, Novum Organum (London, 1620).

5 Karl Marx, Die deutsche Ideologie (1845/46), in MEW 3, p. 46; MEW 4, p. 480; Zur Kritik der Politischen Oekonomie (1857), in MEW 13, p. 632.

6 Louis Althusser, For Marx (Hammondsworth, 1969); also in "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses," in Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays (London, 1971).

7 Karl Marx, Die deutsche Ideologie (1845-46), in MEW 3, p. 20.

8 Karl Mannheim, Ideology and Utopia (London, 1936).

9 Paul Ricoeur, Lectures on Ideology and Utopia (New York, 1986).

10 Daniel Bell, The End of Ideology (New York, 1960).

11 Francis Bacon, Novum Organum, I, 38-68. According to Bacon, there are four types of idols: 1) idols of the tribe, 2) idols of the cave or den, 3) idols of the market place, and 4) idols of the theater.

12 Etienne Bonnet de Condillac, Treate on Sensations, trans. G. Carr (London: Favel, 1930), I, iii, p. 1.

13 A. L. Claude Destutt de Tracy, Elements d’ideologie (1801-1815), 4 vols.; Claude A. Helvetius, De l’homme, de ses facultes et de son education (1772), trans. by Hooper: On Man (1777), I, p. 127.

14 Pierre J. G. Cabanis, Rapport du physique et du moral de l’homme, in Oeuvres, ed. Thurot (Paris 1823-25). Cabanis’ famous slogan: "Les nerfs - voila tout l’homme."

15 Plato, Politeia and Republic, books 2-4, in Plato’s Works; Taylor, Plato, the Man and His Works (New York, 1929), 3d ed., pp. 393-407. See also Paul Shorey, ed., What Plato Said (Illinois: University of Chicago Press, 1933), pp. 216 ff.

16 Karl Popper, Conjectures and Refutations (New York: Harper and Row, 1968).

17 Richard Bernstein, Beyond Objectivism and Relativism (Philadelphia: University of Pensylvania Press, 1985), pp. 87 ff. See also Keneth Baynes, James Bohman and Thomas McCarthy, eds., After Philosophy - End or Transformation (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1987). Karl Popper, The Open Society and Its Enemies (London, 1951).

18 Edmund Husserl, Die Krisis der europaischen Wissenschaften und die Transzendentale Phanomenologie (1936), in Husserliana (1954), vol. 6 (ed. Walter Biemel); Kurt Godel, "On Formally Undecidable Proposition of Principia Mathematica and Related Systems," in Ernest Nagel and James R. Newman, Godel’s Proof (New York: New York University Press, 1960). According to Godel’s theorem, the incompleteness of arithmetic implies that there is no sound formal system in which arithmetical truth is deducible. Against Gottlob Frege and Bertrand Russel, Godel demonstrates that there is no consistent formal system in which mathematical truth is provable. See S. Shanker, ed., Godel’s Theorem in Focus (London, 1988).

19 Peter Winch, The Idea of a Social Science and its Relation to Philosophy (London: 1958)

20 Carl G. Hempel, "Formulation and Formalization of Scientific Theories," in Frederic Suppe, ed., The Structure of Scientific Theories (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1979, second ed.), pp. 244-254.

21 Karl Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, p. 37: "One can sum up all this by saying that the criterion of the scientific status of a theory is its falsifiability, or refutability, or testability."

22 Josif V. Stalin, Works (13 vols.) (1952-1955), especially The Foundations of Leninism (1924); See also Robert Tucker, Stalinism (1977).

23 Culture: A Critical Review of Concepts and Definitions (Cambridge, l952).

24 See Chu-Yen, "Hsiao dao" (Filial Piety), in Chung guo Wen hua Lwen wen Chi, (Collected Essays on Chinese Culture), ed. Department of Philosophy, Tung Hai University (Taipei: You Shi, 1979) pp. 182 ff.

25 Tseng Chiao-hsuy," "Hsiao dao yu Dzung chiao" (Filial Piety and Religion), in Chung guo Wen hua Lwen wen Chi, vol. 3, ed. by The Department of Philosophy, Tung Hai University (Taipei: You Shi, 1981), pp. 512-22.

26 Yu An-bang, "Qing Yi Lwen shu" ("On Affection and Righteousness"), in Newsletter for Research in Chinese Studies (Taipei: Center of Chinese Studies, 2001), no. 78, pp. 9-26.

27 This conception of moral is the kernel of moral theories such as utilitarianism, consequentialism and decisionism.

28 Karl Marx, Das Elend der Philosophie. See Hans J. Sandkuhler, ed., Marxismus und Ethik (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp. 1975). See also L. Laurat, Marxism and Democracy, p. 16; Karl Popper, The Open Society and Its Enemies, p. 391.

29 See Tran Van Doan, The Formation of Vietnamese Confucianism (Washington, D.C.: The Council for Research in Values and Philosophy, 2001), chap. "What Can Be Called Tradition?"

30 Tran Van Doan, "Filial Piety and the Cult of Ancestors," in Triet Dao, No. 2, (Washington, D.C., October, 2001).

31 Max Horkheimer & Theodor Adorno, The Dialectic of Enlightenment (Boston: Continuum, 1973), p. 7.

32 Karl Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, p. 36.

 33 Jurgen Habermas, "Technology and Science as Ideology" in Toward a Rational Society (London, 1971).

34 Popper, p. 37.

35 See the critique of J. Habermas, "A Positivistically Bisected Rationalism," in Theodor Adorno, ed., The Positivist Dispute in German Sociology (London, 1973), pp. 198-225.

36 Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, (Chicago, 1970), 2nd. ed.

37 Paul Feyerabend, Against Method: Outline of an Anarchistic Theory of Knowledge (London: NLB, 1975), pp. 83, 98 ff.

38 Imre Lakatos, Falsification and the Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978), p. 2.

39 Hans-Georg Gadamer, Truth and Method, pp. 12 ff.

40 Habermas’ objection to Gadamer’s thesis is grounded on his confusion between positive and negative ideology. ,

41 Nietzsche with the works: Genealogy of Morals and The Birth of Tragedy, etc.

42 Immanuel Kant, Critique of Judgement, trans. J. C. Meredith (Oxford, 1969).

43 Francois Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi (University of Manchester Press, 1984), pp. 77-79.

44 Georg Lukacs, A Theory of Novel (1911).

45 Walter Benjamin, "Theses on the Philosophy of History" and Jurgen Habermas, The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity (1985).

46 Martin Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik (1931) (Pfullingen: Klosterman, 1982).

47 Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason (1929), trans. Norman Kemp Smith, p. 662.

48 Louis Althusser, Pour Marx (Paris, 1965); English translation (Hammondsworth, 1969); Lire Capital ( with Etienne Balibar), (Paris 1970).

49 The German Ideology, pp. 131, 137.

50 Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right, Introduction.

51 The German Ideology, vol. l, (1845-6 ).

52 Capital, vol. 1, chap. 6.

53 Manuscript,1844, p. 136.

54 MEW 3, 46.

55 MEW 3 26f., MEW 21, p. 179.

56 Zur Kritik der Politischen Okonomie,Vorwort, 1859, MEW 13, p. 9.

57 MEW 13, p. 632 .

58 Grundrisse , 1857-58, p. 81f.

59 Das Kapital, MEW 23, p. 87.

60 Zur Kritik der Hegelschen Rechtsphilosophie. Introduction, 1843-44. In MEW l, p. 378.

61 MEW l, pp. 378f.

62 Capital, vol. 1.

63 Capital;, vol. 2.

64 Capital, vol. 3.

65 The planned vol. 4.

66 Manuscript, 1844, p. 135.

67 Louis Althusser, Reading Capital, Introduction.

68 We understand pragmatics in a sense much broader than that of John Dewey and William James. In our view, pragmatics is concerned with problem-solving. But the problems could be metaphysical (principle), theoretical, religious, etc. and not necessarily restricted to daily practical problems. Juergen Habermas understands (universal) pragmatics as an effort to "identify and reconstruct universal conditions of possible understanding." In other words, he treats universal pragmatics as a meta-theory. See Juergen Habermas, "What is Universal Pragmatics?" in Communication and the Evolution of Society, trans. Thomas McCarthy (Boston: Beacon Press, 1979), p. 1.

69 Actually, correctness is not identified with truth. In our view, truth belongs to the theoretical category while correctness to the practical category. Our critique of ideology centers on its hasty identification of correctness with truth, truth of the static world with truth of the living human world, etc.

70 Manifesto of the Communist Party (1848): "Jeder nach seinen Faehigkeiten, jedem nach seinem Beduerfnissen."

71 Jurgen Habermas, "What is Universal Pragmatics?" p. 1; See also Jurgen Habermas, A Theory of Communicative Action, 2 vols., trans. Thomas McCarthy (Boston: Beacon, 1985).

72 Jurgen Habermas, "What is Universal Pragmatics?" pp. 2, 65.

73 J. F. Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition, op. cit., pp. 44-45.

74 Juergen Habermas, "Modernity versus Post-modernity" and The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity, trans. Thomas McCarthy (Boston: Beacon Press, 1987).

75 Tran Van Doan , "Ideology, Interests and Morality," op. cit., p. 123.

76 ibid. See also "The Danger of Self-Deception in Ideological Education" (London, 1990), op. cit.; chap. 4 in this volume.

77 G. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit (1807); and Popper, "What is Dialectic?" in Conjectures and Refutations, op. cit.

78 Karl Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, Introduction, p. 1.