Life is a Praxis

I was first introduced to praxis in Paolo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed as the practice of turning theory into action. This idea of action followed praxis everywhere I looked until I came across an article written by Dave Hume, longtime Red River Gorge climber, describing motivation and climbing. Rather than action, he equates praxis with achievement. However, this formation of his so-called “praxis climber” is misguided. Achievement is fundamentally removed from the undertaking of praxis, and thus Hume’s praxis climber deserves a reconfiguration. This is an attempt at doing so.

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Praxis was developed by Aristotle in opposition to poesis and theoria; the three basic human activities. Theoria has fallen away from contemporary discussions as its meaning is easier to discern; activities undertaken as theoria have the end goal of increasing one’s knowledge. The difference between praxis and poesis, however, is widely debated such that some argue against there being a fixed distinction between them at all. Oded Balaban confronts this otherwise seemingly chimeric resolution in “Praxis and Poesis in Aristotle’s practical philosophy” with confidence that the distinction is actually quite simple.

Praxis is an action done as an end in itself.

Poesis aims at an end that is distinct from the acting.

Praxis and poesis as descriptions of human activity are useful in examining the choices that guide our actions, though when we undertake an activity as a praxis, we do not, as Hume proposes, aim at achievement. We do not, when engaging in praxis, do in order to stop doing.  

Balaban proposes two different concepts of the Greek word telos, meaning “end.” The first as the goal of an activity, and the second as the activity itself. In the case of the former, when the end of an activity is the goal of that activity, the doer engages in poesis. Such are activities of making and producing. In the case of poesis, “when the end is achieved, the achievement brings about the cessation of the means” (186). This means that the doer would avoid the means at all costs if the end could be attained otherwise. Essentially, the activity is insignificant until the end has been secured.

In the undertaking of praxis, not only is the activity significant but the activity is the end itself. This concept requires a new formation of telos as actualization, rather than telos as the goal. Telos as actualization allows that “the end and the nature of the act that leads to it are one and the same” (Balaban, 190). Because the end is immediately realized at the inception of the act, and remains actualized until the act is finished, “praxis is an act without potentiality, and has no degrees of perfection” (Balaban, 191). Balaban applies the distinction to a tangible activity in the example of playing golf; “if one’s playing golf were to have a teleological character, the end would be attained when [and only when] the game was finished” (Balaban, 194).

Thus praxis, which is complete at any moment in time, is divorced from achievement. Dave Hume’s conception of the praxis climber, however, describes how “praxis climbers are in the game to achieve.” The curiosity then is what etymology of “praxis” led to Hume’s confusion? Hume refers to praxis as one of three archetypes for motivation, the other two being protos and patria, rather than poesis and theoria which refer not to motivation but to human activity. Hume claims that he’s borrowed the terms from David McLelland’s theory of motivation, though McLelland in his book The Achieving Society refers rather to achievement, power, and affiliation as the three guiding human motivations. Hume’s terms seem to come instead from George New and David Cormack’s Why Did I Do That? Understanding and Mastering Your Motives, in which the authors co-opt McLelland’s theory under the new terms praxis, protos, and patria respectively (Reimer).

The cause for the renaming was apparently because McLelland’s original terms caused interpretive confusion due to his contrived meanings which differed (sometimes greatly) from the vernacular use of the words. This was especially problematic for McLelland in the case of “achievement,” which he defines as “the desire to do something better, faster, more efficiently, with less effort. It is not a generalized desire to succeed, nor is it related to doing well at all sorts of entreprises… (McLelland, A).” Assuming that New and Cormack’s renaming of McLelland’s “achievement” didn’t include a complete reconceptualization of the definition, their choice of praxis as the new name is quite provocative.

For example, efficiency is one of the categories Balaban uses to differentiate between praxis and poesis. Efficiency applies only to poesis given that the activity itself is not required for its own sake so long as the ends are somehow produced. Balaban takes this to mean that “the criterion of efficiency must therefore be applied to it—i.e., the achievement of the best result in the minimum time invested or with a minimum effort” (189). In poesis, the action itself would be avoided if possible. However, the case of praxis is different. Balaban theorizes that

duration in time is incompatible with praxis, not because praxis does not take time nor because it is a state, but because duration in time relates only to purposeful thinking and productive activity, which praxis is not (197).

McLelland’s addendum that achievement is not a generalized desire to succeed is in fact even more antithetical to the idea of praxis. Though success is removed from the conversation of praxis, “the fulfillment of desires is relevant only to praxis” (194). In the case of golf, “the fulfillment of the desire to play golf is actually playing golf,” not the completion of the game (194). Perhaps if the desire was for an activity which the doer equated with “succeeding,” the fulfillment of it could be an undertaking of praxis. However, McLelland doesn’t allow this to fall under his definition of achievement, removing the possibility that this was how New and Cormack found inspiration for their renaming.

Thus, as Hume describes the praxis climber as one who doesn’t strive for undertakings that are “not really genuine achievements,” he is rather describing a climber who views their sport as a poesis, as a mere means to an end. The praxis climber, therefore, isn’t “in the game to achieve.” They’re in the game to play the game. The praxis climber doesn’t thrive on getting better, they thrive on going rock climbing (though as a secondary measure of enjoyment perhaps climbing “better” produces additional value). The praxis climber isn’t about doing it well or even doing it right. In fact, in doing itself, the qualities of “right” and “wrong,” given their reference to outcome, are irrelevant. This is not to say that a praxis climber is unsafe, but that they aren’t fond of being told what to do. The praxis climber climbs because climbing is life. And they bring a new meaning to the phrase. As an activity done for its own sake, climbing literally is life.

Balaban, Oded. “Praxis and poesis in Aristotle’s practical philosophy.” The Journal of Value

Inquiry, vol. 24, no. 3, July 1990, pp. 185–198, https://doi.org/10.1007/bf00149432.

Hume, Dave. “Praxis, Protos and Patrias.” UK Climbing, 12 June 2011,

www.ukclimbing.com/articles/features/praxis_protos_and_patrias-3808.

McClelland, David C. The Achieving Society. Van Nostrand Company, Inc., 1961.

Reimer, Sam T. “Ever Wonder Why??” Castanet, 7 Feb. 2005,

https://www.castanet.net/news/Rhyme-Reason/6926/Ever-Wonder-Why-