Religion as experience: Dialogue with John Dewey

Abstract

This article discusses John Dewey’s (1859–1952): Theory of valuation (1939), Art as experience (1934), A common faith (1934), The public and its problems (1927) for the socio-anthropological analysis of the religious. This pragmatist approach, attentive to intersubjectivity and experience, allows to work on aspirations and ideals, through giving place to emotions besides rationality in the valuation process. Further, the idea of public and pre-political, permits to pay attention to processes which are different from differentiation and where people contribute to the common good from their specific (minority) situation. In a pragmatist approach, believing comes in three modalities as ‘caring about,’ in the sense of giving value to forms of experiences and self-construction, respectively, to forms of self-transcendence, and to ways of connecting with the world (others and nature).

If we seriously consider the intersubjective and experiential dimension of the religious, the reading of the pragmatist social philosophy of John Dewey (1859–1952) sheds light on the sociology and anthropology of the religious through valuable conceptual and practical elements, therefore complementing or nuancing the customary viewpoints. The sociological appropriation of pragmatism pays special attention to what is ‘in the making,’ namely to experience, transactions, interactions and their human and non-human environments. The approach is relevant to describe the emergence of problematic situations or the pluralism of forms of common good, including situations of disputes or controversies (Cefaï, 2009). It is recognized in various fields of sociology, especially those related to mobilizations, work, the city or the environment, while it remains much less patent in the field of the religious. This article offers a proposal of conceptualizing the religious, building on Dewey’s social and political philosophy, mainly (but not exclusively ¹ ): Theory of valuation (1939), Art as experience (1980 [1934]), A common faith (1960 [1934]), The public and its problems (1954 [1927]). But each conceptual proposal is articulated to factual, empirical elements. Although these Deweyan concepts (experience, ideal, common) were not developed in relation to religion (but for more general analysis of social life), I show their relevance to the socio-anthropological analysis of the religious.

While analyzing empirical findings, various elements led me to this author: first, the will to transcend the rational–irrational dualism when many religious or belief-related acts are rather arational or expressive (in the words of Wittgenstein, 2002 [1950]: 160–161); second, the choice to bestow more importance to experience, to the body and to emotions or affects; third, the search for tools to work on aspirations and ideals. Lastly, though social theories offer well-established resources to study the processes of differentiation, it is more difficult to explain how social actors belonging to minorities, including religious ones, can also get involved in processes of ‘dedifferentiation’ when making things common although from their specific position.

The present article is divided into four sections. After briefly addressing the ‘quest for certainty,’ the formation of values and ideals shall be articulated to the ethical dimension of the religious. Then, in the next two parts, we shall resort to the writings on the aesthetic experience and on ideals and articulate them to modalities of religious experience. Lastly, the publications on the public and the great community shall enable a discussion on the production of the ‘common.’

Doubt, knowledge, certainty

An examination of doubt, knowledge and certainty is relevant to both comprehend religious beliefs as a search for certainty and question nonreligious certainties on what religious belief actually is. Dewey underlines that ‘The quest for certainty is a quest for a peace which is assured, an object which is unqualified by risk and the shadow of fear which action casts.’ (1929: 8)

Are we liable to an unavoidable uncertainty concerning norms and learning, or does our knowledge provide us with unwavering foundations? How do we make our way between the ever-incomplete search for certainty and the discomfort of uncertainty, or even the risk of relativism? This question may seem purely philosophical, but it leads to very tangible consequences in the way of viewing belief. The pragmatist philosopher Richard Bernstein dubbed Descartes’s Meditations, ‘the great rationalist treatise of modern times’ (1983: 16), from which he drew the notion of ‘Cartesian anxiety.’ Indeed, Descartes insisted heavily on using methodical doubt to rid oneself of ‘numerous [. . .] false opinions [he had] taken to be true’ brought on by his education in order to ‘raze everything to the ground and begin again from the original foundations’ (Descartes, 2006: 9), thus reconstructing his knowledge on a solid basis and find ‘one firm and immovable point’ to reconstruct all knowledge and build a ‘certain and unshaken’ (Descartes, 2006: 13) science. Therefore, this quest is also an existential question, a journey of the soul, full of terrifying dangers, where the philosopher ‘fallen into a deep whirlpool [. . .] can neither touch bottom with [his] foot, nor swim up to the top’ (Descartes, 2006: 13). The Archimedean point becomes the ‘stable rock upon which we can secure our lives against the vicissitudes that constantly threaten us,’ these ‘forces of darkness that envelop us with madness, with intellectual and moral chaos’ (Bernstein, 1983: 18). It is this fundamental anxiety, this fear not to be able to find certainties stable enough to build our way of understanding and behaving that Bernstein proposed to name the ‘Cartesian anxiety,’ which ‘haunts us’ and ‘hovers in the background of the controversies waged by objectivists and relativists’ (1983: 18). It also makes our rationality rather unwelcoming to the complexity of practices. For example, following a terrorist attack in France (Nice, July 2016), numerous political figures mistook a covering bathing suit which left the face completely unconcealed (similar to wetsuits and used by pious Muslim women who wear a simple headscarf every day), for a burqa, which actually conceals the face. Since terrorism must be fought, women wearing this type of wetsuit were branded as radical Islamists (August 2016, ‘Burkini ban’ affairs, France).

For his part, German sociologist Hans Joas underlines three limitations to the theories of rational action to emphasize the relevance of pragmatism (1999 [1992]). First, these theories imply the intentional aspect of human action. However, in practice the means we give ourselves to reach our objectives can make us change these same objectives along the way. The end-means pattern is therefore not the only possible pattern, that is to say, every action does not actually have an end. We can also mention the routine action, or expressiveness and creativity. Then, these theories implicitly hypothesize the mastery of one’s body and thus do not allow reflection on sensitivity, emotion or even passiveness. These disregard corporeality. Lastly, they neglect the sociality of the human ability to act, in the sense that we are constantly confronting situations, unpredictable events which force us to rebuild our ideas, a process in which the role of intersubjectivity is central.

What we care about

Even though the lack of religious culture is not specific to France, no one in France would be surprised by the fact that heads of security, schools or human resources departments were not familiar with the Eid al-Adha holiday. However, we could hypothesize what they would tell themselves on the matter: ‘it must be something like Easter or Christmas.’ Yet at the time of the discussions on religious symbols in 2003, it was not uncommon to hear that taking a day off for the Eid al-Adha was a form of political statement. ² Such claims place the Muslim practice outside of the norm, turning religion into politics. The religious experience, the attachment to a holiday, in a way of eating or dressing, cannot be conceived as an experience, a practice which they value, just as other French people would care about birthday parties or their vegetarian diet. This experience is denied as such in public rhetoric and in most commonplace knowledge about Muslims. ³ These practices, orthodox or not, are qualified as militant and as means to impart values that are different and incompatible with society’s. Common sense does not make it possible to understand and recognize this attachment. However, researchers in social sciences are increasingly taking into account emotions and attachments. ⁴

Issues currently raised by religious topics in the news, as well as the anthropological analysis of belief, lead to the inclusion of questions related to both values and attachments. Admittedly, there is nothing new in underlining the fact that ethics represents a fundamental dimension of the religious. Depending on the approach and the context, we shall insist more on the socialization of religious norms, or on self-cultivation, on the appropriation of values or even on social engagement. From one perspective, several authors have demonstrated both the dynamics of ethicization of the religious, in the sense that beliefs and practices relate more to this world (Weber, 1996: 345; Isambert, 1975; Hervieu-Léger, 2001), and the role played by values in the religious identification process (Hervieu-Léger, 2001). These observations belong mainly to authors dealing with the effects of individualization and secularization. But the moral issue is just as central to more intense or more emotional religious identities. Religious ethics is a means to restore order one’s life (Tietze, 2002). Within more or less rigorist religious revivals, religious ethics also relate to constant self-cultivation (Mahmood, 2005), which comes with a vision of what is good for one’s self, most often together with a special attention for the community and the society (Jouili, 2015: 187–199).

The aim is to articulate, through the pragmatist approach, this axiological or ethical dimension, and an emotional and experiential dimension, previously worded as attachment. This leads us to reflect on how value judgments come into form, competition or conflict. Indeed, whether one considers individuals to whom religion is slightly or very important, those who declare themselves agnostics but consider that everyone has the freedom to believe as s/he likes, or even those who are concerned by religion and support secularism, it still remains in every case a matter of ‘what we care about,’ at least in one particular field (the religious, the spiritual, secularism). This Deweyan idea of ‘caring about’ allows us to take into consideration what pertains to values while including relational and emotional dynamics.

Yet the classic way for sociologists to see values as collective preferences, which we can talk over, explain or justify. They are subject to reflection and to rational discussion. They are the crystallization of moral preferences (Pharo, 2004: 79), and thus relate to the attractive power of the good. ⁵ Even though they can materialize into action, they remain ‘semi-abstract’ entities. Considering values in this light holds many advantages, especially for sociologists, journalists and polling institutes, as it allows them to carry out wide quantitative and comparative surveys, as well as numerous polls regarding current events. The quantitative aspect also reassures when it comes to the scientific value of these forms of social analysis.

However, considering values as crystallization of preferences also presents a drawback. It makes them more rigid and makes it difficult to reflect on their formation and balancing. From a conceptual standpoint, overcoming the subjective-objective divide is another difficulty with regard to values (and more generally social behaviors). On the one hand, we risk describing behaviors as purely rational when they are not, and ending up with a reductive vision of human action (only rationality-oriented), such as the aforementioned criticized by Joas. On the other hand, we risk falling into relativism, especially when it comes to the emotivist approach of values, in which moral judgments are the expression of emotions.

The pragmatist approach offers another perspective, allowing us to put this dualism aside while still taking emotions into account. Values, considered as ‘what we care about,’ are, of course, still a product of intelligent activity, but are linked to experience, which itself includes emotional and intersubjective components. Dewey (1939) thus includes emotional and rational, as well as social, dimensions in his ‘Theory of Valuation.’ In order to be able to consider how values as produced, he differentiates two analytical levels: the first level is the instant appreciation, while the more reflective, second level is the judgment, the evaluation. For instance, if we are facing a building, at the first level we might say: ‘I like this building,’ whereas at the second level we would say: ‘this building is beautiful, balanced, well-built, original, it fits well in the neighborhood, it symbolizes this cultural reference or that geographical connection.’ In practice, his theory does not refer to moments or even distinct states. The valuation [the formation of values] is the combination of both, with an analytical distinction between what relates to emotions and experience, on the one hand, and what is more cognitive and rational, on the other hand.

Referring to the first level, Dewey uses the phrase ‘de facto valuing,’ which means ‘caring,’ ‘caring for.’ He mentions several synonyms: ‘looking out for or after,’ ‘cherishing,’ ‘being devoted to,’ which are all variants of the word prizing. It is a type of ‘motor-affective’ behavior, in which ‘the “motor” takes place in the public and observable world, and, like anything else taking place there, has observable conditions and consequences’ and requires ‘energy expended to secure the conditions’ (1939: 14). Dewey emphasizes that this component of valuation implies desire, which is intrinsically connected to the circumstances of life and to personal journeys:

Because valuations in the sense of prizing and caring for occur only when it is necessary to bring something into existence which is lacking, or to conserve in existence something which is menaced by outside conditions, valuation involves desiring. The latter is to be distinguished from mere wishing in the sense in which wishes occur in the absence of effort. [. . .] [T]he relation between desire and valuation is found to be such as both to make possible, and to require, statement in verifiable propositions. (i) The content and object of desires are seen to depend upon the particular context in which they arise, a matter that in turn depends upon the antecedent state of both personal activity and of surrounding conditions. [. . .] (ii) Effort, instead of being something that comes after desire, is seen to be of the very essence of the tension involved in desire. [. . .] [Desire] is an active relation of the organism to the environment. (1939: 15–16)

This perspective, in terms of process, as well as the significance of intersubjectivity and connectivity with the environment, are constants of the pragmatist approach. It is at the second level, the level of evaluative appreciation and judgment, that rationality takes part: ‘ends are appraised in the same evaluations in which things as means are weighed.’ (1939: 24) The valuation (the combination of these two levels) is the process during and through which an element of experience gains value and significance. This distinction is analytical: when I am saying ‘this building is beautiful,’ I can also be thinking of what I read or heard about the architect and his style, which implies a reflexive activity and a form of meditation. ‘[A] problem must be felt before it can be stated’ (1938: 70): this sentence captures Dewey’s originality in his treatment of values. The sensitive aspect of a situation must be experienced before proceeding to a cognitive elaboration. The problem must be felt and experienced before being stated and acted upon. Muslims belonging to an association defend the value of equality but, more specifically, they care about conditions of equal dignity for their religious practice and act accordingly. Secular activists defend the value of secularism but, more specifically, they care about certain religious symbols being removed from the public space.

Moreover, the pragmatist approach of valuation offers an alternative notion of public reason. Both liberals (Rawlsian) and their detractors consider that ‘introducing a reason in the public sphere would equate to grant it the status of a legitimate argument in the context of deliberations’ (Frega, 2015: 220). This equivalence indeed seems obvious to political or public figures, as well as in commonplace knowledge. Yet, drawing his inspiration from Dewey, Frega proposed to set justifications apart from judgments. On the one hand, the justifications of actors (especially religious) are the expression of the reasons behind their convictions. On the other hand, judgments take part in the discussion so as to make a decision which will affect everyone’s life, and take the consequences into account (Frega, 2015: 227–230). For instance, one can state the reasons behind a religious stance against abortion while still judging necessary that it be legally accessible. This analytical distinction seems particularly relevant when it comes to the focus put on identity and secularism in public rhetoric.

In the religious (or spiritual) field, the notion of experience is central. It is at the heart of various forms of self-construction and self-cultivation. However, it can also be the experience of self-transcendence, lived through one’s relation to ideals and various forms of transcendence. Lastly, experience can also be found in specific ways of conveying memories and connecting with communities. These experiences, these life stories felt as authentic and singular are, in their formulation, practice and interpretation, built within and through social ties. Therefore, believing can be understood as ‘caring about,’ in the sense of giving value in a both emotional and rational manner to 1) forms of experiences and self-construction, 2) forms of self-transcendence, and 3) ways of connecting with the world (others and nature).

Forms of experiences and self-construction

While commonplace knowledge or critics of it tend to reduce belief mostly to its contents, research highlights the significance of its putting into action. ⁶ A group of authors emphasizes the routine and ordinary aspect of religion (Ammerman, 2006; Orsi, 1997; McGuire, 2008; Gotman, 2013). Another group of researchers, mostly studying Muslim practices, underlines self-cultivation in a sub-modality of belief influenced by Aristote and Foucault (Mahmood, 2005; Hirschkind, 2006; Jouili, 2015). The rule, the norm (even when disputed or adjusted) plays a significant role. This second approach is just as relevant for a follower of Zen or yoga who gets up early to meditate or practice, as it is for the evangelical Christian who reads her Bible every day. ⁷

In any case, believing appertains far more to experience than to content (even though these contents have a significance of their own, their mere enunciation is already an act in itself). This experience includes religious practices, in the true sense of the word, as well as acts of sharing, connecting and contemplating. A first sub-modality equals ‘living an experience’ and implies the focus and density of the moment, while a second, centered on self-cultivation, implies self-discipline and the reference to religious norms outlining this self-construction. However, these two can overlap. Disciplining yourself to meditate on a regular basis will thus provide you with moments of intense experience. As previously emphasized, contemporary works on observant Muslims have demonstrated the relevance of this second sub-modality of self-cultivation. Dewey’s pragmatism offers an analysis of experience which falls within the first sub-modality. Moreover, his attention to intersubjectivity places the focus on the fact that experience, including in a perspective of self-cultivation, comprises a collective dimension.

While analyzing a Muslim short film festival, whose audience and organizers predominantly consisted of observant and rather Orthodox ⁸ Muslims, I was struck by a specific film category, which I would qualify as ‘lived religion.’ This category was particularly well regarded compared to documentaries (Uyghur women, etc.), comedies (piety contests, etc.), or educational and moralizing films (education, angel, blessing in disguise). Three films from this first category were among the ten finalists. Two of them tell the story of a veiled young woman who is comfortable in her life and her studies, serene in her relationships with others, religion and nature, and this shown through images alluding to inner peace, nature and unity with the world. The third film shows a couple of Sufi surfers comparing the rhythm of the waves to the cadence of the prayers of praise, and stating that their passion for surfing ‘plays a great role in the remembrance of Allah.’ The film Nur, showing a veiled young woman comfortable in her life and numerous images of nature, ranked second in its category (therefore considered one of the best four films among a selection of forty). Therefore, among these religious films, the Muslim audience gave much value to an experience, in the sense of an art of living, of relating to others and to nature.

In A common faith, Dewey draws a clear distinction between (organized) religion and the religious: ‘’[R]eligious’ as a quality of experience signifies something that may belong to all these [aesthetic, scientific, moral, political, […] companionship and friendship] experiences.’ (1960: 10). He underlines the significance of adjustment to life: ‘The actual religious quality in the experience described is the effect produced, the better adjustment in life and its conditions, not the manner and cause of its production. [. . .] [A]n experience ha[s] a religious force because of what it does in and to the processes of living’ (1960: 14). This perspective is similar to Simmel’s notion of religiosity: this ‘rhythm of interiority,’ this input of ‘its own tonality to the content of certain mental images’ (Simmel, 1997 [1902–1912]: 133, 122), this ‘response of a person of aesthetic disposition to that which is beautiful to look at [. . .] [or] of the enthusiast to the ideas of liberty, equality, and justice’ (1997: 125). Like Simmel, Dewey underlines that this type of experience – the religious or religiosity – does not fall within any defined area of human and social life.

The ‘religious as a quality of experience’ is most clearly visible in spirituality but it may also happen concurrently with organized (including orthodox) religion, as demonstrated by the success of Nur short film, which precisely shows a ‘quality of [muslim] experience.’

Dewey defines most finely his notion of experience in Art as experience (1980). In the preface, Richard Shusterman insists on how rich this notion is: ‘Experience can be cognitive and non-cognitive; it includes both object and subject, involving both the content of experience and the manner in which it is experienced’ (Shusterman, 2014: 19). When it comes to art, Dewey does not consider it in terms of museums, professional artists or art trade. He rather sees art as a lived aesthetic experience. He proposes to start from everyday life experiences usually not seen as pertaining to aesthetics or, for that matter, to art. Therefore, his assumption is that aesthetic experience is rooted in ordinary experience. He emphasizes the core role of attention and pleasure:

In order to understand the esthetic in its ultimate and approved forms, one must begin with it in the raw; in the events and scenes that hold the attentive eye and ear of man, arousing his interest and affording him enjoyment as he looks and listens: the sights that hold the crowd – the fire engine rushing by; the machines excavating enormous holes in the earth; the human-fly climbing the steeple side; the men perched high in air on girders, throwing and catching red-hot bolts. [. . .] The sources of art in human experience will be learned by him who sees [. . .] the zest of the spectator in poking the wood burning on the hearth and in watching the darting flames and crumbling coals. These people, if questioned as to the reason for their actions, would doubtless return reasonable answers. The man who poked the sticks of burning wood would say he did it to make the fire burn better; but he is nonetheless fascinated by the colorful drama of change enacted before his eyes and imaginatively partakes in it. He does not remain a cold spectator. (1980: 4–5)

In the end, experience is a form of vitality and interaction with the world, leading to a feeling of both inner unity and unity with the world:

Experience in the degree in which it is experience is heightened vitality. Instead of signifying being shut up within one’s own private feelings and sensations, it signifies active and alert commerce with the world; at its height it signifies complete interpenetration of self and the world of objects and events. (1980: 19)

The unification of the self, and the unification of self and world, is a form of individual and social imaginary, insofar as the different ways of experiencing or describing it rely upon specific, available, and therefore social, resources (stemming from the community, religious and philosophical readings, and personal development). Both kinds of unities were also very visible in the Muslim short films, either in surfing and praying or through the recurrence of peaceful atmosphere and images of nature. This imaginary of unity, although scarcely mentioned in research on social imaginaries, plays a significant role in the spiritual and religious experience as well as in the experience of secular self-cultivation (personal development). The focus on the present moment, combined with the imaginary of unity, is in keeping with the notion of ‘optimal experience, ⁹ ’ or flow, in the anthropology and social psychology works of Csikszentmihalyi, who also referred to Art as Experience (Csikszentmihalyi and Halton, 1981).

From the reading of Dewey, I propose to define experience as a form of vitality and interaction with the world, fully catching one’s attention and leading to a feeling of unity within oneself and with the world. The quality and intensity of experience depends on its relational characteristic, with others and with the environment.

The Deweyan focus on experience, its intensity, its connection to the imaginary of unification of self, and of self and world, complement the approach in terms of ‘self-transformation,’ which centers on self-discipline (Foucault). We can actually consider that both cases involve self-cultivation, a focus on the present moment, and an effort of consistency in practice or in transmission, or in putting one’s life in order. This more or less intensive effort requires time and focus. It is a commitment to what one cares about, which is either individual or more related to the sense of belonging to a group. Nevertheless, even in the first case, it is formed in an intersubjective way, in connection with other significant people, and with available resources resulting from social transmission and approval.

Self-transcendence and ideals

This second modality of belief relates to the aspiration to rise above the basic satisfaction of daily needs. It expresses the desire for self-transcendence through individual and collective aspirations, whether it is stated in religious, spiritual, psychological, philosophical or poetic terms. It thus implies a connection to something which goes beyond the everydayness and, in this sense, transcends the daily life. The search for the unification of self, and of self and world, also constitutes an element of this modality. Two aspects or sub-modalities prevail. The first is the disposition to trust (in his/her ability to improve, in human beings in general, in God or in life), as a commitment to act. The second consists in aspirations or ideals (commitments to values with a projection of an imagined future).

In order to describe the disposition to trust (Lamine, 2014: 77–80), visible in many religious or non-religious contexts, we can follow Simmel’s approach (1999: 45–48). It is for instance the trust many monotheist believers places in God and mankind. Roberte Hamayon (2005) describes this kind of trust in a shamanic context. An unsymmetrical object is thrown and must fall on the right side to indicate good luck before a hazardous endeavor (such as a hunting trip), although this throw is repeated until it holds a positive outcome. Jeanne Favret-Saada (2012) also demonstrates that there is a brief moment of ‘certainty’ (and therefore of belief-trust in the unwitcher), which allows the consultants to free themselves from the negative spiral during the unwitching process. ¹⁰

I shall now focus on the second sub-modality, upon which Dewey sheds light and of which he gives an original conceptualization, through the notion of ideal developed in A common faith (1960). This brief publication tackling the theme of the religious, in relation to values and ideals, was published the same year as Art as experience. We can draw a parallel between these two publications, inasmuch as creativity does not only intervene in art or work, but also in the vision and constitution of ideal values – values that are as ideal as they are practical since they are implemented in education, social work, etc. A common faith stems from three conferences which tackle the debate between liberal Christians, the fundamentalist movements and secular humanists. In some regards, these conferences reflect the author’s point of view (humanist and liberal) on the state of religion and its predictable effects. As a result, it highlights a certain type of secularization which translates for instance into the idea of the religious without religion. Dewey criticizes fundamentalists who stick to their dogmas and emphasize God’s transcendence. Yet he distances himself from the ‘aggressive atheism’ he also criticizes. He sees the liberal movements that modernize and adjust their religious thought in quite a positive light. However, my interest here is not his position as American citizen ¹¹ but the conceptual input of these essays, as an extension of his theory of experience and of the notion of ‘ideals’ (which are very practical).

An ideal is more than a value or a belief; to be more exact, it is a value with something more. In a previous text, Dewey underlined: ‘This ideal is not a goal to be attained. It is a significance to be felt, appreciated’ (2007: 263). Here we find once again the interplay between intelligence and feeling:

[T]here is a difference between belief that is a conviction that some end should be supreme over conduct, and belief that some object or being exists as a truth for the intellect. Conviction in the moral sense signifies being conquered, vanquished, in our active nature by an ideal end; it signifies acknowledgment of its rightful claim over our desires and purposes. Such acknowledgment is practical, not primarily intellectual. [. . .] The authority of an ideal over choice and conduct is the authority of an ideal, not of a fact, of a truth guaranteed to intellect, not of the status of the one who propounds the truth. Such moral faith is not easy. (1960: 20–21)

This strong statement is very practical: ‘our active nature’. It states that the way we act, is not only directed by values, and is much more than a helm (according to Weber’s definition). Certain values – ideals – hold such significance in an existence that we can be ‘conquered, vanquished, [. . .] by an ideal end.’ Therefore, ideals are valuations (values) of a particular intensity, to which we commit in the long term and which are directed towards the future. ¹² This intensity makes it so that they seem essential to us. However, like all valuations, they must be subjected to a constant investigation on the effects of undertaken actions.

As in the previous modality, the intersubjectivity, the relation with nature, and the feeling of unification of self, and of self and world, are essential here:

Our successes are dependent upon the cooperation of nature. The sense of the dignity of human nature is as religious as is the sense of awe and reverence when it rests upon a sense of human nature as a cooperating part of a larger whole. (1960: 25)

The significance of the imaginary of unity is again emphasized:

The connection between imagination and the harmonizing of the self is closer than is usually thought. The idea of a whole, whether of the whole personal being or of the world, is an imaginative, not a literal, idea. [. . .] The whole self is an ideal, an imaginative projection. Hence the idea of a thoroughgoing and deep-seated harmonizing of the self with the Universe (as a name for the totality of conditions with which the self is connected) operates only through imagination. [. . .] The self is always directed toward something beyond itself and so its own unification depends upon the idea of the integration of the shifting scenes of the world into that imaginative totality we call the Universe. (1960: 19)

The imagination takes on a larger role there. It is indeed through the imagination, meaning the idea of another possible, that one can commit to ideals. Imagination sees the possibilities, the events which have yet to occur. We thus commit to ideals, relying at the same time on will, reason, emotion and the imaginary, through an intersubjective perspective and in relation to the environment. Once again, we observe a broadening of the notion of social imaginaries. Those directed towards the future are not reduced to utopia here. Indeed, the imaginary allows to paint a better possible and supports a moral faith.

From the reading of Dewey, I propose to define ideals as follows. Ideals are valuations [values] of specific intensity and directed towards the future, for which one acts both over the long term and with a feeling of self-coherence. One is committed in an intersubjective way and connected to one’s environment. The ‘true’ ideal implies that the real situation is taken into account, as well as others’ needs and practical consequences of one’s actions.

Empirical examples abound: social, humanitarian, educational, interreligious, interconvictional endeavors that believers commit in the name of their ‘faith’ to (Lamine, 2014: 79). The pragmatist approach of ideal also allows us to analyze shifts towards various degrees of radicalism. We can indeed hypothesize that radicalness grows when intersubjectivity is limited to people who entertain very close relationships with each other, who share similar convictions and/or when the imaginary of the future becomes eschatological. ¹³

Connecting with others and the world, producing the ‘common’

Religious belief is also (or above all, in a Durkheimian perspective) an experience of being together. This modality seems the most obvious one, considering how much religious belief is associated with belonging to a community and often, at least in common perception, with ‘communitarianism.’ It is a central element. We care about our sense of belonging, we pass it on (Gotman, 2013; Hervieu-Léger, 2000), we want it to be recognized by others and not disregarded, and we appreciate moments shared with our group. Transmission and shared emotions constitute this modality’s two key notions. These must also be linked to the notions of mixed (individual) identities and solidarity without consensus (with one’s group) (Kertzer, 1989: 67–69; Lamine 2013: 159). They lead to the matter of the relation between the common world and singular identities, subject on which I shall focus as it is precisely where Dewey argues a particularly original and relevant point.

The public and its problems offers an original notion of the public, and a concept of what we would call today the ‘common’ as well as its making within society. It also proposes a specific view on the public-private distinction. According to Dewey, there are no questions, phenomena or actions essentially public or private. Only their consequences can make them public (1954). If an action (or a conversation) only affects the individuals directly involved, it remains of a private nature. When it affects other people, it becomes a public matter. The public is indeed considered here as ‘all those who are affected by the indirect consequences of transactions to such an extent that it is deemed necessary to have those consequences systematically cared for.’ (1954: 15–16). Evidently an individual can belong to several publics: A Muslim woman can be affected by both her religion’s negative image, and an excessive noise in her neighborhood. An issue usually has several publics, such as in the case of religious symbols (groups comprising different religions or movements; lay, political or professional groups, etc.) or environmental issues (farmers, residents, ecologists).

In terms of values, Dewey proposed an original approach of the common world and democracy. In his concluding chapter, ‘Search for the Great Community,’ he states that ‘Democracy must begin at home, and its home is the neighborly community.’ (1954: 213) It can be read as an invitation to examine the making of the common world in a different light, to look at how it is produced once social actors, while acting locally (environment, neighborhoods, school) or being attached to specific identities (religion, ethnicity), proceed with an awareness of a more general common good. ¹⁴ Dewey indeed thinks that a ‘community’ exists from the moment when a joint action is undertaken and its consequences are deemed good by the people who take part in it: ‘Wherever there is conjoint activity whose consequences are appreciated as good by all singular people who take part in it, and where the realization of the good is such as to effect an energetic desire and effort to sustain it in being just because it is a good shared by all, there is in so far a community’ (1954: 149). The ‘great community’ (1954: 143) is none other than democracy: ‘The clear consciousness of a communal life, in all its implications, constitutes the idea of democracy’ (1954: 149). Democracy exists through the making of the common, through the desire and effort to contribute to it:

From the standpoint of the individual, [democracy] consists in having a responsible share according to capacity in forming and directing the activities of the groups to which one belongs and in participating according to need in the values which the groups sustain. From the standpoint of the groups, it demands liberation of the potentialities of members of a group in harmony with the interests and goods which are common. Since every individual is a member of many groups, this specification cannot be fulfilled except when different groups interact flexibly and fully in connection with other groups. (1954: 147)

Therefore, democracy is an event, which is at once not completely carried out – and will never be – and not nonexistent, owing to everything that is shared here and there, to all these experiences of the common. This common is not contingent upon the number of people affected by the action, or its level, but rather upon a sort of consciousness of the common life.

Moreover, according to the pragmatist approach, values are produced into the world. As we learned in the first part of our discussion, values are an expression of what we care about. We can therefore observe and analyze their formation, with a focus on how they are created and experienced. What the democratic community cares about, and its values constitute its main characteristic. This applies to every level, from the individual to the ‘great community,’ as well as to the various sorts of social groups. This approach contradicts both the theory of arbitrary evaluations, on a case-by-case basis, and the hypothesis according to which values exist independently from human action. Both theories flout the perceptible role that values play in actions.

Upon reading Dewey’s words, Axel Honneth introduced the term ‘prepolitical,’ highlighting that the vitality of the democratic publics presupposes a form of social integration through ‘a common consciousness for the prepolitical association of all citizens’ (Honneth, 1998: 776–777). This consciousness is based upon their cooperative actions and their pursuit of common goals, most often in an area, which fosters closeness, and allows them to get a tangible sense of a wider form of ‘social coordination.’

Two cases prove how relevant the pragmatist approach is in the analysis of the participation to the common through the specific. The first case was of a Muslim mother wearing a headscarf who offered to volunteer for the (public) school’s Christmas party. Her participation was denied. A few months later, a group of mothers joined forces and took the case to the administrative court of Amiens. Two years later, the court ruled in their favor. ¹⁵ Here we have a case of will to participate to the common prevented by a position of principle, though eventually recovered following a civic mobilization. The second case involved the French Muslim online media outlet, Saphirnews.com, which saw the light following a growing awareness for a common issue (Lamine, 2015). A survey of readers and interviews of team members together showed a will to share information, whose reliability would be recognized by its target audience as well as by the journalistic profession, and which would thus aim for neutrality and professional expertise. The media is more of a specialist than a communitarian actor. This case has more to do with a process of dedifferentiation and specialization, rather than of counter-hegemony and differentiation. It is about participation in the common world (with shared standards regarding information) from a distinctive situation.

This pragmatist approach allows the study of an overlooked possibility: to produce the common from the specific. It is overlooked because the focus is put either on communitarianism (in commonplace knowledge) or on relations of power and of differentiation, in terms of ‘subaltern counter-publics’ or ‘counter-hegemonic’ (for researchers). Since the minority groups’ relations with the majority are more often than not unbalanced, it is perfectly relevant from this perspective to consider their engagement in the public space in terms of counter-hegemony (Macé, 2005) or as counter-publics (Fraser, 1990). These perspectives based upon a critical reinterpretation of the Habermassian approach of the public space allow us to reflect on the agonistic dimension of social relations, such as the manner in which minority actors contest instances of discrimination. Sociology is, however, ill-equipped to study these actors’ actions when they are also significantly directed towards the making of the common world. ¹⁶ I therefore consider that the pragmatist approach to this sort of social activity must not take attention away from the inequality of social relations, but rather shed a complementary light on it.

Conclusion

Deweyan pragmatism can contribute to the analysis of the religious in several different ways. It turns the spotlight on the prevalence of a form of Cartesian rationality that is unwelcoming to the complexities and ambiguities of human conduct, through neglecting its emotional part. It puts the focus on the religious ‘in the making,’ because belief is above all an experience. It allows us to draw comparisons or analogies with similar non-religious experience. It introduces the role played by emotion in the valuation process, which is the evidence of what people care about and how it makes them act. A part of religious experiences proves to be similar to aesthetic experiences or to an art of living. The term ‘ideal,’ often banished due to ideologies and the damage they cause, can then find a new pragmatist definition, related to experience, intersubjectivity and the feeling of unification of self, and of self and world. It thus allows us to address aspirations and self-transcendence, religious or non-religious. And last but not the least, it helps us think on the production of the common, including through the specific, in a world concerned over its diversity. The pragmatist approach seems promising for analyzing what religious attachment is, how religious identity includes doubt, and to tackle anew the discomfort of secularists with religious visibility. The Deweyan concepts were mobilized to investigate various situations of ‘ordinary’ religion (mostly Islam and Christianity. ¹⁷ ) These empirical cases should be diversified and the non-ordinary (intransigent, radical) religion is yet to be explored.