Words&Dirt

Reading Mathew A. Foust’s Loyalty to Loyalty was a special treat for me. Foust was the graduate teaching fellow who led my discussion section for Mark Johnson’s Philosophy 101 lecture course during my first term at the University of Oregon. It is no understatement to say that Foust changed my life; after just a few weeks, he encouraged me to switch my major from journalism to philosophy––and I did. From that point on, Foust not only mentored me through several more philosophy courses, but also became a dear friend.

During my senior year, Foust created a reading group of undergraduates called The Loyalty Club. We read Josiah Royce’s The Philosophy of Loyalty, and our discussions contributed in a small way to Foust’s doctoral dissertation, which eventually became this book. Loyalty to Loyalty: Josiah Royce and the Genuine Moral Life is a thoughtful and loving explication of a virtue that John J. McDermott called “treacherous and ambivalent,” but that Foust himself views as the highest of virtues––a kind of meta-virtue that organizes and empowers all others (1). This exploration of Royce’s thinking represents a much-needed reexamination of an important American philosopher often overshadowed by his contemporaries––intellectual giants such as William James and John Dewey.

Foust presents several interpretations of the definitions of loyalty offered by Royce, but my favorite is this one:

Loyalty is the willing, practical, and thoroughgoing devotion of a person to a cause. Such devotion is not solipsistic, for the loyal recognizes that his or her cause exists independent of his or her private existence. Loyalty to a cause, then, involves conferring value on the cause beyond the benefit that the loyal receives from it. In short, the loyal believes that one’s cause has either intrinsic value or instrumental value beyond what he or she can enjoy. Furthermore, loyalty is social; the potential for follow loyal servants to a cause always exists. (41)

Loyal devotion to a cause, in this sense, is a kind of secular religion––a mode of commitment to something greater than oneself. This flavor of loyalty is not impersonal or abstract, but defined by the peculiarities and intimacies of individual human lives. Royce’s loyalty supercedes parochial concerns without becoming impersonal, bridging the gap between self and other, and also between one’s own cause and the causes of others.

Royce’s concept of “loyalty to loyalty” governs this intellectual outlook. In Royce’s own words:

Find your own cause, your interesting, fascinating, personally engrossing cause; serve it with all your might and soul and strength; but so choose your cause, and so serve it, that thereby you show forth your loyalty to loyalty, so that because of your choice and service of your cause, there is a maximum of increase in loyalty amongst your fellow-men. (63)

This principle is one of the better rules of thumb for ethical thinking I’ve ever encountered, and should be considered a critical component in modern moral calculus. Whenever we seek to identify the best course of action amongst a multiplicity of options, we ought to ask ourselves: Will this action further my ability and the ability of others to freely choose a cause and support it with vitality and authenticity? If the answer is yes, we should consider the action morally permissible; if the answer is no, we should seek a different path. This is certainly no silver bullet to resolve all moral quandaries, but it goes a long way in de-cluttering the ethical landscape.

In a fashion that feels distinctly Aristotelian, Foust outlines how the virtue of loyalty––when guided by the meta-principle of loyalty to loyalty––can help us develop ameliorative habits of thought and action. Using examples such as whistleblowing, reconciliation after betrayal, and attitudes about immigration, Foust demonstrates that Royce’s loyalty has much to offer the murky ethical waters of the early 21st century. The core of Royce’s philosophy was not buried in its own historical moment, but rather pointing toward something universal and inalienable about the human desire for connection, commitment, and compassion.

I have one general critique of this book, and also one major critique of Royce’s philosophy as Foust presents it. I wish Foust had included biographical information about Royce. Even a lot of people who’ve studied American philosophy don’t know much about him. During my participation in The Loyalty Club, Mat shared some details about Royce’s life, personality, and relationships with august figures like William James. Those tidbits really helped Royce’s work come to life for me, and I was disappointed that they didn’t make it into this book.

When it comes to Royce’s philosophy, I have to admit that this version of loyalty––as good an idea as it is––feels too monolithic to adopt as a comprehensive ethical outlook. It allows for pluralism, and even encourages it through Royce’s descriptions of how different people will devote themselves to different causes. But the philosophy itself is not pluralistic. Royce seems to have designed a system of thought where everything can be boiled down to issues of loyalty, and my intellectual training and life experiences have taught me to be wary of such approaches. I’m not sure Foust would deem this a fair appraisal of Royce’s view, but I can’t help thinking that loyalty’s proper place is amongst a host of equally worthy virtues, and not necessarily at the head of the table. 

Finally, I’d like to point out that I don’t think this book––or perhaps any book––can properly demonstrate the profoundly positive effect that Royce’s philosophy exerts on the lives of people who take it to heart. Though Foust’s writing is lucid, much of the book involves settling disputes between scholars over definitions and interpretations, or engaging with important elements of philosophical history such as deontology, consequentialism, and virtue ethics. Simply put, the book is very academic. This isn’t a problem in itself, but the book just doesn’t capture what it feels like to be around someone who has devoted his whole life to this kind of thinking.

Having had the distinct privilege of being exposed to Foust in my late teens and staying friends with him over the years, I can say with certainty that very few people live their lives with commensurate dignity, diligence, and concern for others. I think the world would be a better place if people spent more time engaging with the work of Josiah Royce, but I didn’t come to that conclusion because I think Royce’s philosophy is necessarily better than that of others. I came to it because of how Foust changed my life and what his friendship has meant to me over the years.

What better compliment could a dead philosopher ask for?

Rating: 8/10