ABSTRACT
A strong tradition within modern academic thought, almost a sacred cow, has been the separation of the various 'disciplines' of inquiry. Put in the more precise terms of one of the leading exponents of this view, there are different 'forms of knowledge' through which we apprehend and attempt to understand reality around us and our experience within it. These forms of knowledge are differentiated in terms of unique and, for the most part, irreducible concepts, logical structures, testable expressions, and ways of testing claims, roughly illustrated, for example, by the differences between what a chemist and an historian does, or between what a psychologist and a philosopher does, in their respective 'fields' of academic endeavour. 1 Thus, in addition to the institutional boundaries which now circumscribe the actual practice of inquiry within existing academic institutions, there are also, supposedly, good reasons for recognizing and respecting the boundaries. Anyone crossing one of the boundaries thus does so at the double risk of trespassing on the fiercely-defended institutional territory of colleagues and failing to make sense (or to be convincing) to those on both sides of the boundary. Lawrence Kohlberg surely must be placed among the courageous few who have flaunted this tradition and taken these risks. For twenty-six years his work has refused to take the boundary between psychology and philosophy as an impenetrable given, but rather, has consistently suggested that some ways of crossing the boundary not only make sense, but are also both necessary and mutually beneficial to the respective disciplines.
