2/ Defence of the Idea That Axiology Belongs in the Theoretical Sphere
We must consider why axiology, setting aside its overlap with the practical science of morality, might spontaneously appear to belong to the practical sphere.
There may, in the first place, be a tendency to assume that resolving the problem of values would have inevitable implications for our actions and could drastically alter our way of life. If we were able to determine what is most valuable—which is not assumed here—we would have identified the ultimate end toward which our existence should aim.
This raises two difficulties (setting aside the question of whether such a discovery is even possible).
The first is this: the fact that determining what holds—or lacks—value could significantly influence human behaviour does not mean that axiology is a practical discipline. Axiology would only qualify as practical if we could assert that this behavioural change constitutes its essence or ultimate purpose.
The view I wish to defend, however, is that any connection to action is inessential to axiology; it is merely secondary, or derivative.
By analogy: the fact that human beings walk does not allow us to define them as legs, or to assert that walking constitutes their essence. We would therefore fail to understand human beings if our reflection on them were confined to a detailed study of walking. Likewise, the fact that axiology may have practical implications for human action does not make it a practical science, nor will we grasp its true nature by examining what behaviour it might inspire.
In short, axiology is fundamentally a theoretical science, even though it may have practical consequences.
A further point: determining what has the greatest value does not necessarily disclose what should constitute humanity's ultimate end.
Let us revisit the distinction we previously drew between value and end 1: it is possible that what holds the greatest value could be either harmful or indifferent to humanity.
Were this the case, we would not necessarily be required to adopt this supreme value as our life's goal. Recognising its nature, we might instead choose to orient our lives around a more relative value—namely, what is beneficial to humanity.
Unlike the notion of duty, value is not inherently bound up with obligation; it does not, therefore, impose acceptance. Value asserts itself, like truth, but it does not compel—just as science does not force scientists, or humanity at large, to accept any particular idea.
If we were able to determine that something holds value, this discovery would not usher in a regulated world in which everyone is compelled to adopt these values. Rather, it would open onto an 'existentialist' world in which each individual decides whether to embrace true values or merely human ones—those that hold significance for us personally.
This is why we hold the axiology project and existentialist doctrine to be fundamentally compatible, though we do not have the opportunity to explore this connection here.
The same conclusion can be reached from a different angle: even if we were to identify the supreme value, our actions would not necessarily adopt it as their goal, because it is not value but the nature of human action that must determine the end of that action.
Human action depends on numerous factors: it involves the body, the unconscious, desire, feelings, and society—in short, it is shaped by psychological, physiological, sociological, and other influences. Whether value can permeate the interplay of these factors and become the criterion guiding our actions remains uncertain. Moreover, it is debatable whether it should—whether it is even desirable for human action to cease being driven by desire, feelings, and kindred impulses in order to be directed solely by value.
This may seem a surprising position, but it follows implicitly from the view that axiology is not concerned with (human) good or with values specifically related to human beings, but with real value, considered independently of humanity.
This explains why, on our account, axiology is neither a practical science nor a human science: its purpose is not to identify what is beneficial for humanity or to modify human behaviour. Any potential implications for human action are incidental rather than essential.
The possible outcomes of axiology therefore hold no more practical relevance for us than a disinterested effort to determine the precise size of a distant celestial body too remote to be reached.
We can see, then, why axiology is, on our account, a theoretical science: it does not aim to bring its object into existence but seeks to uncover a particular 'property' within things—namely, value. Unlike the human sciences, which are centred on humanity, axiology is directed toward the world—much like mathematics, physics, and biology—and, more broadly, toward all contents of meaning. This orientation aligns axiology more closely with the natural sciences than with the human sciences, not by virtue of any certainty in its findings, which remains an open question, but by virtue of its object of study.
Our hypothesis may be summarised as follows: axiology, if it holds any significance as a discipline, is a theoretical science capable of yielding practical consequences. Its focus is directed not toward humanity, but toward the world as a whole—or rather, toward the world as a jewel-case of all possible things of value.
1. Cf Book I