This is a great, rigorously researched investigation of the relationship between philosophy and the new science of psychology around the turn of the century. Is philosophy based on psychology, or is psychology a part of philosophy? Or are philosophy and psychology entirely independent disciplines? These were hotly debated questions, and although many of the disputes seem pedantic (e.g., is arithmetic based on psychological generalizations, or is it an ideal objectivity outside of space and time?), the disputants saw it as anything but trivial: for them, truth, science, and culture were all on the line! If one accepted that the principle of non-contradiction was only the result of humans' mental capacities, then skepticism surely necessarily followed, after which nihilism was but a short step...
I'm sympathetic to the sociology of knowledge, which Kusch explains well. He wants to consider the dispute over psychologism both internally—considering the logical arguments for and against—as well as externally—by looking at the social and material conditions at the time, such as professorships, wartime, and personal feuds. He shows—convincingly, to my mind—how Frege and Husserl critiqued the new applications of psychology to philosophy; how these critiques were live discussions, rather than definitive closures; how philosophy and psychology professors battled each other in public, both in good and bad faith, for academic standing; how World War 1 and the Weimar Republic's culture contributed to the separation of philosophy and psychology, and thus the division of intellectual labor; and how "history is written by the victors," such that Husserl and phenomenology were considered to be the repudiators of psychologism and philosophical naturalism.
The debates themselves were interesting and sometimes amusing. Obviously, the exchanges are quite dense, since logic, metaphysics, and science are all implicated. However, because I have plenty of background knowledge in this area, I could follow along pretty well. And it helps that Kusch does a good job wading through the debate and explaining both sides. Like I said, it could be amusing because the combatants would get heated, resorting to sarcasm, personal attacks, and name-calling. Even better, the Psychologismus-Streit basically devolved into a Salem Witch Trial/McCarthyite Red Scare, or what Kusch deems a "merry-go-round of charge and countercharge" (115). Essentially, it became the Spider-Man pointing at Spider-Man meme: Everyone accused everyone else of being a psychologicist, only to then be accused themselves. This was because nobody could actually agree what constituted psychologism. Some of the definitions were too narrow (e.g., equating logical laws with self-evident intuitions), while others were too broad (e.g., any correspondence theory of truth).
In treating this episode of intellectual history sociologically, Kusch wants to illustrate, first, that philosophy, like science, is not as pure either as it wants to be or as it presents itself; and second, that, pace Hegel, the development of philosophy is not necessary but contingent, that "Philosophical controversies are abandoned rather than resolved" (277). Kusch thinks it's a shame that philosophy and psychology parted ways and that they view each other with mutual suspicion; the split between them, he suggests, is more artificial than proponents of either suppose. As someone with interests in both disciplines, I'm sympathetic to this view; additionally, my preference for phenomenology has recently been moderated by an unease regarding transcendentalism, so reading this has been a refreshing and reassuring experience. Husserl's move away from descriptive psychology toward transcendental idealism and phenomenologists' general disdain toward empirical psychology have always unnerved me to some degree, which is why Kusch's presentation of the dispute as an interested, human one has been a real delight.