Reading Edith Stein’s ‘On The Problem of Empathy’

This post discusses Edith Stein’s 1916 work ‘On The Problem of Empathy’.

I have talked quite a lot about phenomenology on this blog and more recently I discussed the problem of understanding object’s experiences. ‘On the Problem of Empathy ‘ is an earlier attempt than Bogost’s (2012) go to address a similar problem, how can we understand what its like to be another person or thing? Unlike Bogost, I feel Stein’s attempt is more traditional phenomenological in the Husserlian mode, after all the book is actually Stein’s doctoral thesis from 1916 under Husserl. Thus one finds the suspension of the natural attitude and the role of imagination playing a role- Husserl was clearly a strong influence.

My interest in this work mainly derives from a philosophical, but also sociological perspective. Phenomenology is often described as a proto-constructivist philosophy, yet to me based on my reading this is not the case. Husserl (2013) for example discusses the idea of intentionality- which suggests consciousness is always directed at something, often real objects. Merleau-Ponty (2004) often describes the body as mediator- it gives access to the world because it is embedded in it physically. Yet, as those who have read Husserl will know the role of consciousness does indeed play a pivotal role. It is just not the only factor. My point here is that phenomenology offers a philosophical position that is neither realist or constructivist and therefore offers an interesting metaphysical alternative. Edith Stein, as I will come to, discusses in some detail, the role of the real world (but there is no indication it is seen as secondary). On the other hand, the sociological aspect of my interest emerges from the problem of empathy, particularly highlighting our relationships with others, whether they are subjects or objects (if those distinctions are still relevant).

Firstly and philosophically, it is important to highlight that Stein does not ignore the epoche (suspension of the belief in the natural world) nor does she deny the role consciousness can play in forming phenomena presented to us. However, she does highlight the role of the body, as a physical entity and how sensation is important. Notably, she distinguishes between the sensed living body and the outwardly perceived body of the outer (physical) world. This should not be seen as a denial of the sensed living body not being materially real; the body and consciousness, the real and constructed both form our experience of phenomena. However, a distinction is made between the body as a way of generating experience and the body as is perceived. Yet, the physical body does exist, no matter how the psychical plays a role in forming our experience of it. Stein also notes how the body remains relatively constant no matter how things around us change, it could be said the body is an essence.

The partial physicality of the body and the world is also emphasised through Stein’s comment ‘every step I take discloses a new bit of the world to me or I see the old from a new side’ (p47). This, of course, suggests there is a world to be discovered and that it can be experienced in different ways. However, the physical world cannot be the only factor that constitutes reality- consciousness still plays a role. Consider the role of imagination and fantasy- one can think of a different arrangement of objects in comparison to the one that is presented in the senses. One could see a table with a glass top, but one could rearrange it to be wooden in one’s mind. There is no reason to suggest that intentionality of an imaginary object is fundamentally different from that of a physical object. De Jaegher and Di Paolo (2007), who are two enactivists, see the living and cognitive systems as part of a multidimensional continuum. To them, the world is subjective to the extent that an agent places their own perspective on it, but exchanges with the world still impact the agent. This idea of a ‘continuum’ might help us understand Stein, the imaginary and physical could be seen as different parts of a continuum. A fantasy is more (though not completely subjective), whereas the physical encounter with the object is more materially located.

I now want to move on to the act of empathy and particularly whether we can experience what it’s like to be a different subject or object. Stein defines empathy as ‘the experience of foreign consciousness’ (p11). This is an interesting statement to analyse. What essentially is empathy? On one hand, it could be seen as feeling something similar to a foreign consciousness, more radically it could be described as experiencing what it is like to be another consciousness. More problematically, what actually is a foreign consciousness? Does it have to be human? The answer is no, according to Stein, who argues we can empathise with plants and animals, but she does not mention whether it is possible to empathise with physical objects (like a rock or a pencil). Despite, these questions, I would take Stein’s argument to be that empathy is understanding the phenomenology of another consciousness,. By this I mean the way another individual interacts with the world and how their consciousness affects it. I will now elaborate on this.

Stein suggests we can think what it would be like to have another body because we know how to experience our own body. Thus, we gain access to the sensation of a body through our direct possession of one. Yet, consciousness also plays a role in facilitating how we understand how another body is because we can imagine what another body is like. Another example is a dog wagging its tail- we know that it is happy, so we can empathise with the experience it is having of joy. We know what the sensation of joy is like, thus we can imagine what it might be like for a different consciousness. This dog example raises an interesting question in relation to empathy, is there a common pool of experience or common language for experiences. If so, does this explain why we know what it is like for a dog to have joy? This is an interesting question whether it is seen through a metaphorical or realist sense in terms of a pool’s existence. Either way, Stein does not really address it in this work, despite its potential relevance.

There is one more thing I want to say about the empathetic process- it is, according to Stein, possible to gain an understanding of how another thinks through their repeated habits. An angry outburst reflects a poor temperament, if this is repeated then one can gain insight into what it is like to think like the angry person. This raises the ‘pool’ question and whether person A’s anger is the same as person B’s anger. I would like to believe that one can empathise with another individual, but whether this is to a partial degree or not is another question. I am firm believer in the idea that we often underestimate our capability to experience other consciousnesses- we cannot rule out the possibility because it is inconvenient.

Overall, then Stein’s work poses interesting questions and it certainly is a well-reasoned approach to understanding whether empathy is possible with other consciousnesses and whether the world is ‘constructed’ or ‘real’. I cannot help think though there are questions that need addressing further, what is empathy and how do we gain an empathy with another consciousness (i.e. is there a common ‘pool’ or vocabulary)?

Bibliography

Bogost, I. Alien phenomenology, or, what it’s like to be a thing. U of Minnesota Press, 2012.

De Jaegher, H. and Di Paolo, E., 2007. Participatory sense-making: An enactive approach to social cognition. Phenomenology and the cognitive sciences6, pp.485-507.

Husserl, E. Cartesian meditations: An introduction to phenomenology. Springer Science & Business Media, 2013.

Merleau-Ponty, M. The World of Perception. Routledge, 2004.

Stein, E. 1989. On the problem of empathy Third Revised Edition. ICS Publications.

The Craft of Ethics and Metaphysics at The School of Chartres

This post contains an MA essay on how craft united the philosophical fields of ethics and metaphysics in the writings of Alan of Lille and Bernardus Silvestrus.

The idea that, in the twelfth century, the School of Chartres connected metaphysics and ethics is not novel. Wetherbee states ‘These poems [of the Chartrian school] explore the significance of the cosmos as motive force and source of meaning in human existence, centering on the ordering power of nature and natural philosophy as means to stability and moral guidance.’ More recently, Robertson has argued that the Chartrian authors felt it necessary to explain the place of matter to ground their respective ethical visions. This paper builds on this work by examining the interrelationship of ethics and metaphysics at Chartres. It offers the first systematic and detailed account of the connections between these two philosophical fields in the pertinent writings. Furthermore, it argues that craft was often used as a literary device to show the union between ethics and metaphysics. Three works were focused on to explore these issues: Alan of Lille’s Anticlaudianus, Bernardus Silverstris’ Cosmographia and an older fourth century text that was influential at Chartres, Calcidius’ On Plato’s Timaeus. Occasionally, other texts will be cited if they are pertinent to the discussion. I will argue my case using the relevant texts in three sections. The first will examine how the role of craft occupies three levels in Chartrian and Neoplatonic thought. In turn, I will examine God’s role as craftsman, Nature and her assistants as craftsmen and finally the craft of mortal men. In each instance, the way in which craft connects ethics and metaphysics shall be revealed. The second section of the essay will ask a pivotal question that follows on from this. Namely, why did writers choose the language of craft as a way to connect these two separate philosophical fields? Finally, the last section argues that the medieval texts used in the essay must force us to reconsider the role of craft in our modern society. It offers a manifesto that shows the importance, and ultimately philosophical, significance of craft.

However, first, before beginning, it is necessary to provide a brief introduction to the texts that will be used in this essay. The best exposition of Silvestris’ Cosmographia comes from the author himself in the summary section. In the first part of the text, Megacosmus, Nature complains to Noys, or Divine Providence, about the confused state of primal matter. Noys responds and orders the universe. In Microcosmus, Noys wishes to finish her work with the creation of man, she orders Nature to search for Urania and Physis to aid in this task. Alan of Lille’s Anticlaudianus similarly describes the creation of a man, but this time the perfect man with all flaws removed. Nature is again involved in this task and summons the virtues to help her. It is resolved at a council that Prudentia will journey to heaven to ask God to create a soul. Near the end of the text, Allecto and the Furies hear of the new man and so they raise an army of vices to stop him. The virtues triumph in battle. Calcidius’ On Plato’s Timaeus is a commentary on Plato’s cosmological dialogue Timaeus. Calcidius’ translation and account was one of the main ways Platonic and Neoplatonic thought reached medieval readers. With the three key texts introduced, I will now begin to analyse them.

The first way in which craft, as a literary device, is used in Chartrian thought is when the authors talk about the divine craftsman, God. The characteristics of matter, and God’s role in shaping it, form the first way God and craft are interlinked. The state of primal matter is described by Nature in the Cosmographia. Silvestris writes that matter is ‘an unyielding, formless chaos, a hostile coalescence’ and is said to be ‘the motley aspect of substance, a mass discordant with itself.’ The link between ethics and metaphysics is clear here. Matter is described as chaotic and as an opponent, it has properties that make it negatively moral. This view of matter also emerges in On Plato’s Timaeus, when Calcidius discussed the Pythagorean view that matter is evil and requires a craftsman to shape it into something good. The idea that matter needs shaping into something good is not however exclusive to Calcidius. Silvestris also describes how matter needs a ‘tempering power’. Meanwhile, also in the Cosmographia, Nature when talking to Noys asks the latter to ‘quicken what is inert, control what moves at random, impose shape and bestow splendor’ on matter. The language of craft is present here, matter needs to be controlled and made into something different and Noys, the divine mind, or God can do this. Because of craft’s metaphysical ability to change matter it also has an ethical element as it can alter its ‘evil’ qualities. However, just because God’s crafting ability can shape matter, does not mean he does it perfectly. Silvestris describes how the midpoint of air is full of ‘evil spirits’ who are only ‘slightly cleansed of the ancient evil of matter.’ God’s craft, even if imperfect, has both metaphysical and ethical effects.

Another way in which ethics and metaphysics are linked by the idea of God as craftsman, emerges when discussing how he permeates his creation. With matter now shaped into the universe in the Cosmographia, Silvestris describes God as ‘concealed in the majesty of divine darkness’ and as ‘manifest in the clear traces of his handiwork.’ The term ‘handiwork’ has connotations of craft and it is clear from this statement that this ability to create is evidenced throughout God’s creation. Alan of Lille, in Anticlaudianus, similarly writes, ‘the divine mind imprinted form on things and shape on the universe’. God’s activity is ‘imprinted’ throughout the universe. Calcidius confirms this trend of thought when he writes that ‘the divine mind penetrates and informs it [matter] completely.’ Therefore, God is connected metaphysically to the universe due to his role in crafting it, he is physically tied to it. This also has ethical implications, if an omnibenevolent being is dispersed throughout his creation then it is likely the universe itself takes on an ethical character. This seems at odds with Silvestris’ statement that ‘evil spirits’ and ‘evil matter’ are still present in the created universe, but it does not necessarily need to be seen as contradictory. The ‘evil’ part of the universe is that matter which escaped God’s crafting. Nevertheless, it is still clear that ethics and metaphysics are interrelated when discussing God’s permeance. The language of creation and craft again unites them.

The final way in which God as a craftsman connects ethics and metaphysics is seen through God’s role in creating the soul of man. In Anticlaudianus, Prudentia, as previously mentions, journeys to heaven to ask God to create a soul. Meanwhile, the Cosmogtaphia states ‘man will derive his mind from heaven, his body from the elements, so that he dwell bodily on earth, mentally in heaven.’ The language of craft is not as explicit here, but we must not ignore these quotes. God’s role in creating the soul makes man an ethical being. It also allows the intellect of man to discern between what he sees (the appearance of things on earth) and the Platonic world of ideas (the true world behind what man sees). God’s crafting of the world makes man able to analyse it both ethically and metaphysically.

With God’s role as craftsman outlined and having examined how it interlinks ethics and metaphysics, I will now proceed to outline the craft of Nature and her assistants and how they also connect the two philosophical disciplines. The first important role of Nature is to translate the Platonic world of ideas into the sensible world. Truitt has previously highlighted this important role. The world of ideas, as also discussed in the previous paragraph, is the world which contains the true reality of objects or the true, perfect immaterial archetypes. What we see in our world, according to Platonic doctrine, are the physical and imperfect manifestations of these ideas. These essential features constitute key aspects of Platonic and Neoplatonic metaphysical thought. The way in which Nature translates the ideas into our world is compared to a craft, most notably painting. When describing Nature’s garden, Alan of Lille discusses ‘a charming mural’ that ‘depicts man’s character.’ He also writes that painting ‘turns the shadows of things into things and changes every lie to truth’. Later the Anticlaudinaus also states ‘the palace with its mural has these appearances of things, these figures and phantoms of truth and it is gay with so much beauty’. Painting is used as an explanatory device to discuss how the Platonic world of ideas is translated into reality. The painting, Nature’s creation, shows the world of appearances. Painting may have been chosen to discuss Platonic metaphysics because the craft only results in a representation of what it portrays, not the actual thing. However, the language of craft also goes far beyond just metaphysics. The painting also has ethical implications. It depicts, as mentioned, man’s character, and it also has beauty. Nature has a formative role in man’s character by translating the archetypes from the world of ideas to the intelligible world and a craft, painting, is used to explore these ideas. Ethics and metaphysics are those tied together again by the language of craft.

Before discussing Nature’s role in forming the body, I must briefly elaborate on Nature’s assistants and their crafting role. In both, Anticlaudianus and the Cosmographia, Nature is assisted in her creations. In the latter, Urania and Physis play a pivotal role in creating man. Meanwhile, in Alan of Lille’s text, virtues and the liberal arts help Nature on her quest to create the perfect man. One of these is geometry and Alan discussed how she ‘adopts the craftsmen’s role’ She focuses on an object and ‘puts the material, the lead, in order and many a hammer-blow falls upon it.’ Geometry then ‘fashions it into the form she desires’ and thereby ‘frees it from its former defects.’ Metaphysics and ethics are again linked here. Geometry’s ability to change the form of something allows her to eliminate its negative characteristics. Craft is chosen as the literary device to do this, likely because of how crafting is an activity that changes the form of things and due to its ability to eliminate previous errors. The craft of Nature’s assistants therefore links metaphysics and ethics together again.

There is another way in which ethics and metaphysics are tied together by Nature’s craft. Most notably, when discussing the creation of the human body. In Anticlaudianus, Nature seeks ‘ideal matter from which to shape an outstanding lodging.’ She then collects from the elements; earth, wind, air and fire, all the ‘purer’ parts to shape the body. Nature then ‘makes ready the material for the human body.’ Man is therefore drawn and made from the elements that make up the constitution of the physical world. He is directly associated with its metaphysics. The ethical element here is that man is made of the ‘purer’ parts, the parts that have been cleansed of evil matter. Craft is again the connecting factor between this ethics and metaphysics. The ‘material’ is made ‘ready’ and the body is made into ‘shape’. Therefore, there is yet another instance of craft linking ethics and metaphysics.

I have now discussed how ethics and metaphysics are linked by the role of God and Nature and her assistants as craftsmen. However, the language of craft occupies a final, if less explicit, level in Chartrian thought when referring to man. According to the earlier Calcidius, matter is ‘bestowed ready-made upon mortal craftsmen by other craftsmen, and upon the latter by nature, upon nature by God.’ Man is given control of matter from a hierarchy that descends from God. Man has the potential to shape the metaphysical properties of the world. This is emphasised by how Calcidius describes matter as compliant with the intellect, allowing itself to be ‘subdued’ and ‘overcome’. It may be true here that Calcidius is referring to the Divine Craftsmen, God, but the same can also be said of man. Man can also make matter compliant with his intellect, therefore shaping the metaphysical properties of the world. The ethical element here is the fact that crafting derives from the intellect, matter can be shaped for good and evil purposes from the mind. Craft is therefore linking metaphysics and ethics again, even if it is less obvious than previous cases.

Man’s role in ethical and metaphysical craft is also emphasised by his role in forming himself. Alan of Lille discussed how Noys, the divine mind, searches mankind to create an archetype for the new man. It is described that the new, perfect, man will contain ‘the wisdom of Judith, the zeal of Phineas, the faith of Abraham.’ It is notable how the new man will be composed of the characteristics of men who have already existed- suggesting mankind itself already has some ethical properties and has a role to play in his own crafting. This supports Truitt’s point that the boundary between man and nature when it comes to creation is not always clear. The theme of man having a role in creating himself is again emphasised in Anticlaudianus when Alan discusses some of the various attributes of men that the new man should have. Most notably, ’Seneca, the best cultivator of morals, and husbandmen of reason, forges character by reason.’ It is interesting how character is ‘forged’ like an activity of craft. The language of craft again penetrates discussion of ethics. The metaphysical element is not as prominent here when compared to other examples, but we must remember how metaphysics informs the creation of the new man. The new man is partly created from parts of mankind that already have a physical presence in the world. Therefore, ethics and metaphysics are again tied together, however tentatively in this instance, by craft.

So far I have outlined the three levels on which craft, ethics and metaphysics are interrelated in Calcidius and medieval Neoplatonic thought. However, one pivotal question remains, why was craft often employed as a literary device to link ethics and metaphysics? There are two reasons why. The first to consider is the intellectual background of Chartrian thought. Classical writers, originating before the authors in this study, conceived of craft or techne as not just an activity, but a form of knowledge. Plato, for example, in the Gorgias, associated techne with logoi (the latter refers words, speech and reason.) Meanwhile, Aristotle said techne is ‘not strictly activity, but it is a capacity for action, founded in a special kind of knowledge.’ It is evident that even from an early stage techne or craft was associated with the pursuit of knowledge. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that philosophical fields, like ethics and metaphysics, are often associated with craft. Craft was more than just a making activity, it was a form of philosophical reflection and thought. If classical authors paved the way for Chartrian thought, we must also accept the contribution of the also twelfth-century Hugh of St Victor. Hugh, in his Didiscalion, places the seven mechanical arts alongside the other theoretical and practical arts. Mechanical arts, like fabric-making and armament, go alongside the arts found in other categories, like theology and mathematics, in Hugh’s scheme. This means he sees craft as important philosophically. With this train of thought in mind, it is possible to see how craft became increasingly associated with philosophy around the time of Alan of Lille and Bernardus Silvestris. A final intellectual factor worth considering is that the Chartrians wrote in the midst of the twelfth century renaissance. This period saw an explosion of scholarly and literary activity. One form of writing that became more predominant was poetry. Chenu writes ‘curiosity about literature, together with all its apparatus, is ever able to serve the discovery of nature and man.’ This means that poetry, like Anticlaudianus and the Cosmographia¸ increasingly became accepted as a way of exploring metaphysical and ethical truths about the world. Considering the rise of philosophical poetry, it is easier to see why Alan and Bernardus’ works are so interrogative of ethics and metaphysics. This, considered alongside the other intellectual factors, accelerates our understanding of why craft as a literary device might have been used as a way to explore ethical and metaphysical truths.

The second reason why craft was often chosen to link metaphysics and ethics derives from the significant technological changes Europe was facing before and during when Alan and Bernardus wrote. The so-called ‘Medieval Industrial Revolution’ saw a period of technological development starting from the ninth century onwards. New technologies, like the appropriation of water power, made significant changes in daily life for medieval society. Technology became more predominant throughout the medieval European world and affected crafting activities, like smithing, through water-powered tools like hammers. With crafting therefore becoming more ominous and present in the medieval landscape, it is easy to see why the Chartrians integrated it into their thinking. They could hardly ignore the changes and their philosophical implications. The ‘Medieval Industrial Revolution’ therefore forms another reason why craft, ethics and metaphysics were often linked together.

I have now explained why craft was often chosen to link metaphysics and ethics. I will now, using the insights from the first two sections, argue that the medieval view of craft as ethical and metaphysical forcers us to reconsider its role in modern society. I will now offer a manifesto that argues for the renewed philosophical significance of craft. This is not, however, the first paper to explore the philosophical implications of craft. Langland, for example, connects crafting to knowledge. He writes ‘when we made things, we accumulated a certain kind of knowledge, we had an awareness and an understanding of how materials worked and how the human form has evolved to create from them.’ Sennett, meanwhile, argues that craft can provide insight into the techniques of experience that can shape our dealings with others.’ This paper agrees with these philosophical ideas, but argues that medieval thinking provides additional insights. The most important thing the medieval view of craft tells us is that metaphysics and ethics are interrelated even today. Too often we fall into narrow specialisation and miss connections between different areas. Craft, because it shapes the person doing it as much as the world, can help us examine life in the full. It is a way of exploring fundamental truths of the world, just as the Chartrians used it to explore their own truths. Secondly, craft allows us to change things. For the Chartrians, this was changing matter and the form of objects, but it also has ethical and metaphysical implications. Through craft man can make changes to the world therefore adding or subtracting to its ethical or metaphysical constitution. Finally, craft allows us link the theoretical to the practical. It allows us to connect high-minded ideas and how they might link to the practical world. When we talk about craft, we cannot escape its practicality, even when discussing it philosophically. To summarise, craft is of philosophical significance because it allows us to examine truths, because it can make changes to the world and because it allows us to connect the practical and theoretical together.

This essay has explored how craft links metaphysics and ethics together in Bernardus Silvestris’ Cosmographia, Alan of Lille’s Anticlaudianus and Calcidius’ On Plato’s Timaeus. It did this in three sections. The first explored how craft connects the two philosophical fields together. The second asked why craft was often chosen to do this. The final section offered an an argument for the seeing craft as philosophically important today. Future research could examine the last point in more detail. It could be interesting to compare the medieval and modern philosophical approaches to craft to see if they can engage in dialogue with each other. Furthermore, it could also be possible to examine philosophical fields other than ethics and metaphysics, to see if the use of craft extends to more of medieval philosophy. A final area of research could examine a higher frequency of sources. The whole of the Chartrian corpus and the texts it contains could be examined to analyse the extent craft is used in medieval Neoplatonic thought. Nevertheless, despite these potential areas of research, it is now clear that ethics and metaphysics in Chartrian thought and Calcidius are linked together by the use of craft as a literary device.

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Alan of Lille, Anticlaudianus in Alan of Lille: Anticlaudianus or The Good and Perfect Man translated by James. J Sheridan. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1973.

Bernardus Silvestris, Cosmographia in Poetic Works: Bernardus Silvestris translated by Winthrop Wetherbee. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2015.

Calcidius, On Plato’s Timaeus in On Plato’s Timaeus: Calcidius translated by John Magee. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016.

Hugh of St Victor, Didascalion in The Didascalion of Hugh of St Victor: A Medieval Guide to the Arts translated by James Taylor. New York: Columbia University Press, 1961.

Secondary Sources

Chenu, Marie-Dominique. “Nature and Man: The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century.” In Nature, Man and Society in The Twelfth Century: Essays on New Theological Perspectives in The Latin West edited by Jerome Taylor and Lester K. Little, 1-48. Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1997.

Dutton, Paul E. “Medieval Approaches to Calcidius.” In Plato’s Timaeus as Cultural Icon, edited by Gretchen J. Reydams-Schils, 183-205. Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2003.

Langland, Alex. Craeft: How Traditional Crafts Are About More Than Just Making. London: Faber and Faber, 2017.

Mitcham, Carl. Thinking Through Technology: The Path Between Engineering and Philosophy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994.

Reynolds, Terry S. “The Medieval Roots of The Industrial Revolution.” Scientific American 251, 1 (2010) 122-131. Accessed May 11 2021. https://www.jstor.org/stable/24969418?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents.

Robertson, Kellie. “Medieval Materialism: A Manifesto.” Exemplaria 22, 2 (2010) 99-118. Accessed May 9 2021. https://www-tandfonline-com.libproxy.york.ac.uk/doi/abs/10.1179/104125710X12670926011996.

Sennett, Richard. The Craftsman. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008.

Truitt, Elly R. Medieval Robots: Mechanism, Magic, Nature and Art. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015.

Wetherbee, Winthrop. Platonism and Poetry in the Twelfth Century: The Literary Influence of The School of Chartres. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1972

Reading Husserl’s ‘The Phenomenology of Internal Time-Consciousness’

In this post, I shall explore Husserl’s views on the temporality of consciousness through a reading of ‘The Phenomenology of Internal Time-Consciousness.’ I have previously discussed Husserl’s Cartesian Meditations, but the book for this post focuses specifically on the relationship between time and consciousness.

One theme that occurs throughout the book (though Husserl does not mention it much in this text) is a variety of the epoche or the suspension of belief about the world. Husserl writes ‘our aim is a phenomenological analysis of time-consciousness, involved in this, as in any other such analysis, is the complete exclusion of every assumption, stipulation, or conviction concerning Objective time (of all transcendent presuppositions concerning existents).’ In other words, Husserl is presenting a theory about how time operates in the consciousness and is not talking about time in objective reality.

Husserl uses an analogy about a piece of chalk to elaborate on this point. He suggests if we look at the chalk, then open and close our eyes and look at it again, we have had two perceptions. Phenomenologically speaking, there is a ‘temporal apartness’ between our perceptions, yet the chalk itself has objectively not changed. Husserl states ‘in the object there is duration, in the phenomenon, change.’ Our subjective experience is different to what is objectively occurring, at least in relation to time. This does not, in my opinion, exclude change from the ‘real’ world, but simply states that objects in the world have duration. They change, but not in a blink of an eye. In fact, Husserl hints at this when he argues that lived experiences in an objective sense are ‘temporally determined in an objective sense.’

Yet, we have to remember Husserl’s use of the concept of intentionality, that every stream of consciousness is always directed at an object. Thus, there is always an objective element to how we experience time. Husserl argues ‘we do not encounter temporal characters such as succession and duration merely in the primary content, but also in the Objects apprehended and in the act of apprehension. An analysis of time which is restricted to one level is not adequate, it must rather pursue the continuation of time at all levels.’ This seems initially to contradict with the epoche, but in my view it does not. Just because we suspend beliefs about the real world, does not mean we ignore it in our analysis, after all the objects we experience are ‘in-the world’ even if we experience them differently in the consciousness. The fact there can be multiple levels of time could also raise an issue how can one experience two levels at once. I would borrow from Basarab Nicolescu and his idea of the ‘hidden third’. This suggests paradoxes can exist due to the presence of multiple levels of reality and the ‘hidden third’ which connects all realities, in other words it is possible to experience one object differently at the same time, including temporally. The object is never fully present or absent. This also connects to Jacques Derrida’s idea of Différance, in which a word never fully summons its meaning due to its connections with other words and their interplay. In this way, words and indeed consciousness are always deferred, ‘they have a bit of other words and mental states’ respectively. With this in mind, it is possible to envisage the possibility of plural temporalities existing, perhaps emanating from consciousness and the ‘objective’ world and being experienced at the same time. Paradoxes and contradictions can exist.

Husserl has a very strong interest in the imagination. Methodologically speaking, this involves the technique of imaginary variation to identify the essential characteristics of objects. However, what role does fantasy play when it comes to the temporality of experience? For me, the key point is that it is related to retention (retaining a thought) and protention (the way in which you think the future will go). They are intrinsically related to each other. As Husserl writes ‘on the basis of the appearance of momentary recollections, phantasy forms ideas of the future in a process similar to that through which, circumstances permitting, we arrive at ideas of certain new varieties of colour and sound while keeping to known forms and relations.’ Our imagination is informed by the past and therefore affecting our predictions of the future. If we take the consideration that Husserl is an idealist (debatable, in my opinion, to the strength to which he is), it suggests that future realities are influenced by previous realities. In other words, the admittance that there are multiple realities (i.e Nicolescu or Anderson) does not imply that realities reconfigure overnight, rather change, though fundamental, may occur slowly and past realities will always inform future realities. Another thing to note is that if our realities are affected by our thoughts or imagination, this adds an ethical dimension to our discussion. It is imperative to understand this because it suggests we may be able to alter realities that exist, simply being affects metaphysics. It is therefore possible to enact actual metaphysical change for the better through the way we think.

If consciousness is temporal in its nature, an issue of mereology (concerning wholes and parts) is introduced. If we hear a melody, then how are the past, present and future parts of it linked in consciousness as a whole tune. Husserl states ‘they are in consciousness one after the other, but they fall within the same common act’ and that ‘the tones build up a successive unity with a common effect, the form of apprehension.’ How can they follow one another and yet still be part part of the same act? Husserl argues ‘the objectivity of the whole enduring tone is constituted in an act-continuum which in part is memory, in the smallest punctual part is perception, and in a more extensive part expectation.’ This suggests the tune is one act, because of the role retention and protention play in the present moment. This seems, in my view, to indicate Derrida’s reading of Husserl’s phenomenology is quite fruitful. Admittedly, Husserl uses the word ‘continuum’, but the fact that each individual moment is influenced by retention and protention, definitely suggests that consciousness is never fully in an instant. And, as mentioned, Derrida’s idea of Différance plays an important conceptual position in exemplifying this.

This post has discussed Husserl’s ‘The Phenomenology of Internal Time-Consciousness’, reading it, if one takes an idealist stance, raises some interesting ethical and metaphysical questions. How can we experience multiple temporalities at once? How can our thinking affect the world? And is consciousness ever present in a single moment? If not, then is any reality ever fully present or absent?

Bibliography:

Anderson, Greg. Realness of Things Past: Ancient Greece and Ontological History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.

Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology translated by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press 1977.

Derrida, Jacques. Voice and Phenomenon: Introduction to the Problem of the Sign in Husserl’s Phenomenology translated by Leonard Lawlor. Evanston: North Western University Press, 2011.

Husserl, Edmund. Cartesian Meditations translated by Dorion Cairns. Alphen aan den Rijn: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1999.

Husserl, Edmund. The Phenomenology of Internal Time-Consciousness translated by James S Churchill. Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1964.

Nicolescu, Basarab. “Transdisciplinarity: past, present and future.” In Congresso Mundial de, pp. 1-24. 2006.

Nicolescu, Basarab. “Methodology of Transdisciplinarity,” World Futures, 70:3-4, 186-199 (2014)

Review: The Case Against Reality, How Evolution Hid The Truth From Our Eyes

This post will review Donald D. Hoffman’s book ‘The Case Against Reality: How Evolution Hid The Truth From Our Eyes.’ As readers may know, I am interested in perception, though my knowledge mainly comes from continental philosophy. It was therefore quite fascinating to read a book that is based more on a analytical approach.

The title given to the book is no doubt meant to be provocative, but the book itself does not deny the existence of reality, just that we, as humans, do not perceive as it really is. Hoffman writes ‘there are, at the photoreceptors of the eye, no luscious apples and no dazzling waterfalls. There is just a stupefying array of numbers with no obvious meaning’ and ‘with clever detective work and theorising, your brain interprets a jumble of numbers as a coherent world, and that interpretation is what you see- the best theory your brain could muster.’ In other words, reality consists of particles, etc, that we cannot see, objects are simply the way the brain translates these into a coherent view.

But why would we see reality inaccurately? It is, according to Hoffman, because we have evolved this way. This seems counterintuitive and Hoffman admits the traditional view has been that evolution had guided us towards, not away, from an objective reality. The argument goes that, the more you see of objective reality, the more likely you are to survive. But this is wrong according to The Case Against Reality. Hoffman uses a very good analogy to explain why. If you are using a computer, you see the interface not circuits, voltages and layers of software. The latter ones would be pretty much useless to a non-expert, whereas with an interface most people can or can learn how to use a computer. To use a more evolutionary example, if a snake was approaching you and all you saw was mathematics and molecules you would not be aware that you are in danger. However, when you see a whole snake you know to run away. Evolution, according to Hoffman, is based around fitness points, we evolve in a way that makes us more likely to survive and produce offspring, seeing reality does not make you survive better.

Hoffman is quite convincing at times, but his approach to evolutionary psychology is quite problematic. In one chapter, he focuses on why humans are attracted to each other, with a particular focus on eyes. He says evolution plays a critical role in making split-second decisions on who we choose. Yet, he simplifies the reality of relationships, some people choose not to have children, what is the evolutionary basis of that? Others do not want to be in a relationship at all, is that due to evolution? My point being that Hoffman forgets about culture and society and reduces everything down to biology. Love clearly has more complexity than simply being about mating, at the very least there is a rich tradition of culture about it.

More convincing is his use of quantum physics. Quantum physics is the study of the atomic and sub-atomic. Hoffman suggests that certain quantum theories dictate that nothing is independent of an observer. An object does not exist if no one is looking at it. More radically, Hoffman argues that spacetime itself does not exist, it is a construction of our brains. He writes ‘spacetime is not an objective reality. It is an interface shaped by natural selection to convey messages about fitness.’ Hoffman also states ‘human vision, shaped by eons of natural selection, compresses them into three dimensions of space and time, and into objects with shapes and colours, I can’t handle hundreds of dimensions, but I can handle a few.’ Spacetime may be dependent on the role of an observer and I am likely to believe that evolution would reduce the complexity of dimensions to prevent an information overload. Nevertheless, my issue with Hoffman’s biological reductionism is still there.

To end, I will cover two issues that intrigue me greatly. Firstly, what about change? Can an experience of an object change over time? The answer may seem obvious, yes. I see a coastline with a cliff, I come back years later and it has receded, thus the object is different. However, ontologically speaking, has it altered or has it simply lost a property and remained fundamentally the same? Hoffman does not address this issue in depth, but his emphasis on the role of an observer and his use of quantum physics does imply that an object can fundamentally change.

The second question relies on multiple people. Do we all experience the world in the same way? Hoffman cites synaesthesia as evidence that we do not. Synaesthesia is when someone experiences one sense through another one. So, the world can, with regards to sensation, feel quite different from person to person. Nevertheless, Hoffman believes there are other agents out in the world. He writes ‘the way one agent in a network perceives depends on the way that some other agents act.’ We are not loners, even if we experience the world differently.

I found The Case Against Reality a very interesting book. I have issues with its reliance on evolutionary psychology, but ,at times, I found its arguments persuasive. It seems the questions it addresses will not be fully resolved soon, we may never completely know how accurate our experience of reality is.

Reading Derrida’s ‘The Other Heading: Reflections on Today’s Europe’

So far I have generally avoided talking about politics on my blog because it can provide inflammatory, so I decided to start with a not very controversial issue here in the UK- Europe. Thankfully, Derrida, writing in 1991, provides a very nuanced interpretation of the continent. Though, of course, this was before Brexit. I am not sure he envisaged his commentary on Europe as tackling this issue, but more the fall of the Berlin Wall. I believe he did not think being European was something we had a choice over.

So what does it mean to be European? The first thing to note is that Europe is defined by its relationship to what is outside of it. Thus, Derrida says ‘is there then a completely new “today” of Europe beyond all the exhausted programs of Eurocentrism and anti-Eurocentrism, these exhausting yet unforgettable programs?’ Europe is not the centre of the world, yet it is also not a periphery. Identity is also formed by the other, Derrida states ‘the heading of the other being perhaps the first condition an identity or identification that is not an ego-centrism destructive of oneself and the other’. The opening up of the other must always be ‘experienced as always possible’. Thus, Europe must be open to the potential of the other, the outside.

Identity is also constituted by difference-to-oneself. Derrida writes ‘this can be said, inversely or reciprocally, of all identity or identification: there is no relation to oneself, no identification with with oneself, without culture, but a culture of oneself as a culture of the other, a culture of the double genitive and of the difference to onself.’ This makes a lot of sense for me, we can only identify ourselves as different from an identity i.e we never fulfil an identity, even our own, completely. After all, identity is something we strive towards or against (the latter potentially being bad). European identity has also ‘exhausted all the possibilities of discourse and counter-discourse about its own identification.’ Furthermore, ”identification is itself cultural and never natural.’ The latter point is essential if we are to avoid falling into essentialist ideas regarding ethnicity and other forms of identity.

So is Derrida pro-transnational and pro-EU? I believe he likely would be, with a few caveats. For example, he still sees a place for nationalism. He writes ‘nationalism and cosmopolitanism have always gotten along well together, as paradoxical as this may seem.’ And ‘I am (we are) all the more national for being European, all the more European for being trans-European and international.’ In my opinion, when Derrida calls nationalism and cosmopolitanism as mutual with each other, he must be thinking of a civic nationalism, rather than ethnic nationalism. After all, his critique of identity would be against fixed ethnic and biological ideas. The other factor to consider is what Derrida means by European- when he uses the term he is not using it to exclusively refer to the EU. What about the Eastern European countries which joined in 2004, 2007 and 2013? Is he including them? He also speaks of the Mediterranean, he says he is ‘not quite European by birth’ since he comes from French Algeria, but sees himself as an ‘over-colonised European hybrid.’ Thus, the concept of Europe is not always that quite clear, he published this work in tumultuous times and openness to the other automatically challenges the idea and boundaries of Europe, though this is not necessarily a problem.

Another point worth highlighting is that The Other Heading also features a reference to Derrida’s concept of the ‘democracy-to-come.’ Democracy is ‘not even that of a regulative idea in the Kantian sense, but rather something that remains to be thought and to come…not something that is certain to happen tomorrow, not the democracy…of the future, but a democracy that must have the structure of a promise.’ This is an interesting idea and I will be interested to learn more about it when I read Derrida’s other later works.

The final thing I want to note is the Derrida’s approach to the phenomena known as ‘public opinion’ in the final essay of The Other Heading. The concept of ‘public opinion’ proves to be something, according to Derrida, that is hard to pin down. He states ‘if it had a proper place (but that is the whole question), public opinion would be the forum for a permanent and transparent discussion. It would be opposed to non-democratic powers, but also to its own political representation. Such representation will never be adequate to it, for it breathes, deliberates and decides according to other rhythms.’ Public opinion is thus, as a concept, does not fit into categories or even established institutions easily. Furthermore, ‘public opinion is de jure neither the general will nor the nation, neither ideology, nor the sum total of private opinions.’ Again, one only has to think of how often we hear of the public’s opinion on the news, when does a collection of opinions turn into public opinion? In my opinion, this is not an easy question to answer.

This post has not meant to be a comprehensive overview of Derrida’s The Other Heading, but it has meant to raise some points of interest. I hope I have raised some interesting questions and points that arise from a reading of the work.

Reading ‘Dao De Ching’ and ‘Zhuangzi’

As readers of my blog will know, I have sometimes engaged with philosophy with the purpose of establishing a personal worldview or belief system. For example, I have talked about the interrelationship of postmodernism and Christianity or examined Stoicism and Epicureanism. Yet, my encounter with Daoism, a Chinese philosophy/religion, has forced me to rethink my beliefs again. What I find compelling about Daoism is that it does not seem to contradict with my other worldviews. For example, I can still be a postmodernist and theist and still appreciate large parts of its philosophy. In this post, I want to describe my experience of reading two key texts of Daoism, the Dao De Ching and Zhuangzi and discuss which parts of them I find compelling or at least intriguing even if I might not necessarily always agree with them.

The first thing to say is that both of the editors of the two texts I read do not believe that Lao Tzu (The Dao De Ching’s traditional author) and Zhuangzi (who gives his name to the Zhuangzi) are the authors of the texts traditionally assigned to them. Instead, they believe that the texts are collations of ‘sayings’ and ‘parables’ from early Daoist belief. Understanding this is pivotal when trying to explain some of the internal contradictions of the Dao De Ching and Zhuangzi, different parts may be from different sources. Secondly, I want to highlight unlike some philosophies I have commented on in the past, Daoism is still widely practiced in China and is done so in elaborate and diverse fashions. Admittedly, Stoicism is quite popular these days (sometimes not in a good way), yet I do not think many adhere to Stoic logic or physics, instead the focus seems to be on ethics. In my opinion, Daoism not only offers an ethics, but also a metaphysics that is acceptable to a postmodern mind.

Central to both texts is the Dao, or alternatively the ‘way’ or ‘course’ (as my editions named them). The Dao De Ching describes it as ‘the way that can be spoken of is not the constant way; the name that can be named is not the constant name’ Thus an integral part of the Dao is that words are not suitable to define it. Meanwhile, the Zhuangzi says ‘the greatest Course is thus always unproclaimed. Greatest argument is that which uses no words.’ The Dao is also something that you can go along with (i.e it flows and you can go along with it). It is a certain path of going along with the universe’s flow. The Zhuangzi states ‘all-embracing and nonpartisan, unstrained and unbiased, unhesitating but without any fixed direction, going forth to things without secondary considerations, ignoring all calculations, uninvolved in any schemes of knowledge, choicelessly moving along with things: these were aspects of the ancient art of the Course.’ The Dao is also metaphysical and not just ethical, it is ‘what is most unbiased among all doings’ and is a ‘nickname for the vastness involved’. Meanwhile, while describing what it actually is, the Zhuangzi states ‘the Course cannot be heard, whatever is heard is not it. The Course cannot be seen; what is seen is not. The Course cannot be spoken, whatever is spoken is not it. Know that what forms forms has no form. The Course corresponds to name.’ The course is therefore defined by how it cannot be defined and how it cannot be sensed. Secondly, it is forms the form of things, but has no form in itself. In my opinion, this as a metaphysics is quite compelling, it would make sense that which sustains the universe is too complex, too subtle, too elaborate to be stably put in a box of definitions.

The Dao is therefore metaphysical and ethical at the same time- it is my belief that these two philosophical fields should always be considered alongside each other. I will, at some point, upload an essay on the School of Chartres, in which I tried to unite these fields under the banner of craft (which was often used as a literary topoi). But a belief that the Dao is both metaphysical and ethical is crucial for understanding it.

The metaphysics of Daoism and the Dao, requires one further elaboration. The Dao is always transforming, thus everything in the world is also always changing. Rather than focusing on stable concrete forms or ideas (the latter in the Platonic sense), the world is an everchanging process. Confucius (who is interestingly quoted a lot in the Zhuangzi, despite being the founder of Confucianism) says in one section that ‘On and on go the transformations of all the ten thousands things.’ Meanwhile, ‘things do not remain positioned in any one fixed form. The years cannot be held on to, time cannot be stopped; waxing and waning, filling and emptying, each end is succeeded by a new beginning.’ I find this metaphysics very appealing and it suits my postmodernism. Rather than focusing on stable identities, Daoism holds that everything is changing. In the Zhuangzi, we learn death itself is just a transformation and that individuals do not have a fixed identity. This seems to fit with my belief that the identities are fluid and dynamic and to see this applied to metaphysics as well is thought-provoking, it reminds me of my brief encounter with Process philosophy..

What other features of Daoism are appealing to my postmodernism? It has to be how binaries are dealt with. It is true, that they are not simply demolished, but both sides of them are shown to have a subtle interaction. Apparently, ‘ying and yang shine on one another, injure one another, heal one another’. A further example is that ‘safety and danger replace one another, disaster and prosperity give birth to one another, leisure and hurry grind against one another.’ The interaction between different parts of these binaries is intriguing. In another example, the Zhuangzi states ‘ the bright is born from the dark.’ Thus, rather than organising their world around strict boundaries, it seems to be that Daoism believes in interaction between pairs of oppositions. The Zhuangzi states ‘all things are also free of formation and destruction, for these also open into one another, connecting them to form a oneness. It is only someone who really gets all the way through them who can see how the two sides open into one another, connecting them to form a oneness.’ It is clear the parts of binaries are open to each other and join to form a oneness.

So far I have discussed the metaphysics of the Dao and the interaction implicit in binaries, now I want to focus on the ethics of the Dao De Ching and Zhuangzi. Overall, it reminds me of Stoicism and Epicureanism in respect to focusing what is in your control and what is outside of your control. The Dao De Ching comments ‘the sage desires not to desire. And does not value goods which are hard to come by.’ Yet, paradoxically when considered alongside the transformation of all things, the Dao De Ching also suggests ;’what is firmly rooted cannot be pulled out; what is tightly held in the arms will not slip lose.’ Steadiness is still required, even if there are constant transformations. The Zhuangzi reinforces the emphasis on focusing on what is in your control, it states ‘if you’re following a course, it’s better not to mix anything extraneous into it.’ and ‘only a true virtuoso can remain untroubled whether he succeeds or fails.’

This is not the only ethical aspect of Daoist thought, it also argues for the importance of non-action. The Dao De Ching writes ‘the teaching that uses no words, the benefits of resorting to no action, these are beyond the understanding of all This is not the only ethical aspect of Daoist thought, it also argues for the importance of non-action.. The Dao De Ching writes ‘the teaching that uses no words, the benefits of resorting to no action, these are beyond the understanding of all but a very few in the world.’ The Zhuangzi links non-doing to transformation, it comments ‘stay in the state of non-doing and all things will transform themselves.’ Admittedly, I thought this sounded quite fatalistic, but it is important to recognise that non-doing is a way of overcoming what is thrown at you, it is a practice. The Dao De Ching states ‘the most submissive thing in the world can ride roughshod over, the hardest in the world.’ Non-doing is therefore a way of going along with the Dao and thereby overcoming any blockages.

The final thing I want to highlight is Daoism’s political dimension, in particular it seems to have an anarchic or primitivist train of thought. The Dao De Ching argues ‘the people are hungry. It is because those in authority eat up too much in taxes that the people are hungry. The people are difficult to govern: it is because those in authority are too fond of action.’ Meanwhile, it also comments ‘reduce the size and population of the state.’ The Zhuangzi suggests the ruler of Wei makes ‘frivolous use of the his state without seeing his error.’ It is interesting to see this proto-anarchism, if it can be called that, my feeling is that the Daoists are in favour of it because of the desire to to go along with the Dao rather than the state, which they may consider as unnatural.

Overall, there are lots aspects of Daoism to admire, even if I do not agree with them all. I hope this post has summarised the main points of the Zhuangzi and Dao De Ching which I found interesting. Overall, it is a philosophy and religion that makes you think a lot- and that is not necessarily a bad thing. I would certainly read more about Daoism.

Reading Husserl’s ‘Cartesian Meditations: An Introduction to Phenomenology’

In this post, I will discuss my experience of reading Edmund Husserl’s ‘Cartesian Meditations: An Introduction to Phenomenology’, which was published in 1931 and in English for the first time in 1960.

Rene Descartes’ Meditations form one of the key inspirations behind this collection of lectures by Husserl. ‘The aim of the Meditations is a complete reforming of philosophy into a science grounded on an absolute foundation’, Husserl like Descartes aims to establish this science. However, this science is to be based on on the pure ego just like how Descartes went back to it in his Meditations. The scientific aims of Husserl’s phenomenology can be contrasted to Merleau-Ponty’s approach to science. Husserl sees phenomenology as a science of consciousness, whereas Merleau-Ponty, also a phenomenologist, is critical of what Classical science can teach us about the world, especially when disciplines like art can reveal more about the world. It is interesting to see this contrasting approach between two phenomenological thinkers and it shows how the field developed across time.

How do we access pure consciousness? The answer lays in the technique of phenomenological reduction or epoche. This essentially is an approach where one suspends one’s attention away from the objective world to focus on what is in consciousness. The ego abstains ‘from position-takings’ and also ‘practices abstention with respect to what he intuits.’ It is important to point out that Husserl is not suggesting we abandon our belief in the objective world, but rather he urges to redirect our attention to what lays inside.

Of course, this is quite difficult because the concept of intentionality. This idea states that consciousness is always consciousness of something. It would therefore seem very hard to access pure consciousness. Husserl suggests we should split the ego, make a distinction between the part that is a disinterested onlooker and the ‘naively interested Ego’. We should then describe purely what we see in its basic forms. The step after this is to vary the features of the object we are conscious of, we engage in a sort of play through which we consider the different properties of it. For example, we ask is a table still a table if we change its colour? The answer is yes. However, if we remove the top of the table away from its legs then it would be no longer a table. Husserl writes ‘perception, the universal type, thus acquired, floats in the air, so to speak- in the atmosphere of pure phantasiableness’. Once we have distinguished between what is necessary to the object and what is accidental to it, we can then identify the essential part as being part of the structure of consciousness. The idea of imaginary variation (this process) is an interesting methodology and I wonder what would happen if we applied the technique to historical accounts of objects. Might consciousnesses of past individuals/societies be structurally different to our own? Or would they be similar, perhaps even a table can still be a table without its top.

One issue I found interesting is Husserl’s treatment of how we apprehend objects. Merleau-Ponty suggests objects are shown in their entirety by one property, Husserl takes a more traditional approach and suggests we understand objects through synthesis. Husserl talks of a die and how there is a ‘flow’ of consciousness through which we unite its essential features. This is not at odds with imaginary variation, because it is the essential features that unite in the consciousness and not the accidental ones.

Husserl also explores intersubjectivity or the community of monads (individual egos) in quite some depth. He suggests that individuals participate in an objective world and therefore form a group or a community. The existence of other monads makes this existence of the objective world a possibility. Furthermore, the fact that we share intentionality of certain objects means that this world must exist. An interesting question raised by Husserl surrounds the existence of ‘other’ worlds (like Greg Anderson has suggested). Husserl’s response to this idea is quite negative, he calls it ‘pure absurdity’. In fact, he suggests there is only a single community, the community of all monads and groups of monads.

The body also plays a role in Husserl’s phenomenology. This was to my surprise because he is an earlier thinker when compared to Merleau-Ponty. The ‘organism’ plays a sensory role in detecting other monads. Still he suggests that the body is ‘here’ in contrast to the ‘thereness’ of other individuals. It was fascinating to see Husserl mention the body, as it allows one to consider potential similarities and differences between Husserl and Merleau-Ponty.

Husserl’s ‘Cartesian Meditations: An Introduction to Phenomenology’ do what they say they will- discuss key aspects of the Husserl’s thought, as well as engaging with the Cartesian approach to consciousness. I would recommend the book for anyone wanting to gain insight into his philosophy, while it is not as readable as Merleau-Ponty’s World of Perception, it is still a good way to acquaint or reacquaint with Husserl’s phenomenology.

Reading Merleau-Ponty’s ‘The World of Perception’

In this post, I shall discuss my experience of reading Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s ‘The World of Perception’.

A collection of seven lectures, the chapters in this book were originally broadcast on French national radio in 1948. In them, he covers a wide range of themes from science to art to perception. I start by highlighting what Merleau-Ponty has to say about science. As readers of my blog will know, I have an interest in science (in particular, complexity theory), so it was intriguing to find out how a phenomenologist engages with it. Merleau-Ponty, overall, is critical of the what Classical science can tell us about the perceived world. He writes ‘it is not a matter of denying or limiting the extent of scientific knowledge, but rather of establishing whether it is entitled to deny or rule out as illusory all forms of inquiry that do not start from measurements and comparisons.’ Therefore, for Merleau-Ponty, there are ways other than science that can increase our understanding of the world.

Yet, rather than dismiss science as a whole, Merleau-Ponty still sees it is as playing a role. For example, he is not as dismissive of the physics of relativity. He argues that it shows that final objectivity is not possible due to the fact that the observer’s location influences the observation. It also rejects the notion of an absolute observer, therefore it simultaneously suggests that there is no such thing as pure intellect which can describe the world free of all human traces. It seems that modern physics is therefore not at odds with Merleau-Ponty’s vision.

Another crucial aspect of his thought in The World of Perception is his description of the role the body plays in understanding of the perceived world. He writes ‘we come across the idea that rather than a mind and a body, man is a mind with a body, a being who can only get to the truth of things because its body is, as it were, embedded in those things’. Merleau-Ponty thus rejects Cartesian dualism, by suggesting the mind and body are not separate and he states that the body, through which we encounter the world, is already embedded in things. This reminds me of Heidegger’s Being-in-the-World, in which an individual is already immersed in the world rather than a separate subject.

I now wish to discuss Merleau-Ponty’s further treatment of objects. The traditional way of describing our encounter with them, according to Merleau-Ponty, would be that the properties of an object present themselves to our senses and these are united through a process of intellectual synthesis. Merleau-Ponty presents an example of a lemon to discuss this traditional approach. A lemon is yellow to our eyes, for example, and is acidic in taste. It is also a bulging oval. However, he also suggests that this view is incorrect. Instead, he argues that ‘the unity of the object does not lie behind its qualities, but is reaffirmed by each one of them; each of its qualities is the whole.’ I was initially quite hesitant about this idea, but then when you consider that we may only experience one of its properties at single time, then Merleau-Ponty’s idea seems more persuasive. We, after all, might not necessarily see the ‘yellow’ of a lemon while sensing its acidity through taste, even if most people will likely.

A further point about our encounter with objects is that they provoke certain reactions in us, each one recalls a certain way of ‘behaving, provoking in us reactions.’ This is why, according to Merleau-Ponty, we can tell a lot about a person by looking at the objects that surround them.

Merleau-Ponty goes on to discuss a variety of other topics. One lecture is about the perception of animals, a topic that is highly intriguing because we can never know what it is like to be an animal, but yet at the same time we are forced to admit that they must perceive the world in somewhere. Art is another topic Merleau-Ponty addresses. He assigns a special importance to it because art forces us to look at an object and ask questions of it, they ‘convey to [us] the very secret of their substance, the very mode of their material existence.’ Art seems to force us to question what makes an object.

The final issue I wish to discuss is how Merleau-Ponty describes our encounters with other individual humans. Self-consciousness is already immersed in the world, we start from others experience, and not a separate intellect unaffected by what lies outside. Accordingly, ‘the contact I make with myself is always mediated by a particular culture, or at least a language that we have received from without and which guides us in our self-knowledge.’ This again critques the idea of a pure separate intellect, a running theme throughout The World of Perception.

In this post, I have discussed my experience of reading The World of Perception by Maurice Merleau-Ponty. Overall, it makes a number of interesting points about topics ranging from art to animals. However, for me, the most interesting parts were his discussions of our encounters with objects and what he has to say about science. Hopefully, this post has provided some insight into my thoughts about the text.

Reading Derrida’s ‘Voice and Phenomenon: Introduction to the Problem of the Sign in Husserl’s Phenomenology’

As those who follow my blog know, one of my interests is philosophy and also, in particular, phenomenology. Meanwhile, I have also tried to attempt to engage with Jacques Derrida on multiple occasions, applying his early ideas to several contexts, like emotions and most recently Late Antique thinking. Reading Derrida is challenging, but rewarding, and this is particular evident in his engagement with Edmund Husserl’s phenomenology in ‘his 1967 work ‘Voice and Phenomenon: Introduction to the Problem of the Sign in Husserl’s Phenomenology.’ This post will discuss my experience (no pun intended) of engaging with this text and my thoughts about it.

One of the things I noticed about this text is that serves a good introduction to some of Derrida’s early ideas (although admittedly the discussion reveals these throughout and not all at the beginning). One of these is his criticism of the metaphysics of presence. This is essentially the idea that the history of philosophy has always emphasised presence over absence. Derrida does not argue that absence is more important than presence, rather he suggests that one is no more important than the other in their play with each other. One criticism of Derrida could be his characterisation of the history of philosophy as mostly surrounding this metaphysics of presence, surely the philosophical traditional cannot be subsumed under one label? From what I am reading of Gregory the Great for my MA dissertation at the moment (and also Straw’s work on that Pope) this idea seems futile at best. Interestingly (though I will not go in depth here) the binary of spirituality and carnality is found in these works and one wonders how Derrida’s critique of the metaphysics of presence would influence how these texts reflect experience. On the other hand, Derrida’s ideas are more nuanced than a simple categorisation of all of philosophy under one banner. His treatment of Husserl is far from a simple polemic and is a carefully constructed examination of his texts. He labels Husserl’s analysis using words like ‘rigor’ and ‘subtlety’. Furthermore, Derrida highlights how phenomenology, in some ways, challenges traditional metaphysics.

However, what marks ‘Voice and Phenomenon’ apart is that its criticism of presence is directly related to consciousness and experience, which naturally interests me a lot. Derrida writes how Husserlian analysis continues ‘the Greek metaphysics of presence into the “modern” metaphysics of presence as self-conciousness’. Furthermore, he states ‘If the punctuality of the instant is a myth, a spatial or mechanical metaphor, a metaphysical concept inherited’ and also ‘if the present of the presence to the self is not simple’ then ‘the principle of Husserl’s entire argumentation is threatened.’ It seems Derrida is critquing the idea that consciousness can be fully present. This would certainly raise questions of the possibility of phenomenology. This threat is highlighted again when Derrida writes:

We see very quickly then that the presence of the perceived present is able to appear as such only insofar as it is in continuous composition with a non-presence and a non-perception, namely, primary memory and primary anticipation (retention and protension). These non-perceptions are not added on, do not accompany contingently the actually perceived now, indispensably and essentially they participate in its possibility.’

The idea behind this statement is that memory and anticipation create a non-presence, a moment in time is never fixed and is always open to the past and present. This means, consciousness, is never fully in the present. This idea makes me think quite a lot about the possibility of phenomenology. However, I think it is still is a realisable approach. Phenomenology often directly confronts the issue of time. In my studies, for example, prophecy plays an important role because it is a statement that blends time together, it can be about the future but be spoken in the present, or it can be about a moment in the past and yet also direct the attention to future possibilities. To clarify, I do not think Derrida’s critique of presence undermines phenomenology, rather I think it only raises the need to consider the historical dimension of any study of consciousness and experience.

My other favourite part of ‘Voice and Phenomenon’ is when Derrida talks the ‘voice’ aspect of the title. Here he covers his take on logocentrism, arguing that writing has often been subordinated to speech. When reading Of Grammatology, I remember this idea coming up quite a lot, so it was interesting to see how Derrida addresses it in the context of consciousness and phenomenology. Traditionally, it has been assumed, according to Derrida, that the voice represents consciousness. This presumption is again based on the idea that the voice summons something that is present in the mind. When reading this, I had a thought. Sometimes our voice does reflect what is present in our mind almost instantly, but we also often encounter scenarios where we have to think before we speak. Therefore, consciousness can precede speech. It can also follow speech, for example, when we reflect and analyse what we have said and what reaction it might have caused. Therefore, in my opinion, we cannot say speech summons the conciousness.

Another running theme in ‘Voice and Phenomenon’ is the relationship between expression and indication. This was the most challenging idea for me. In particular, Husserl analyses these signs and the role they play in life. The difference between indication and expression was initially not clear for me.

The final subject I want to cover is Derrida’s coverage of différance in this text. In particular, its relation to another Derridean idea about supplementary. Derrida connects these two terms together when he writes ‘supplementarity is really differance, the operation of differing that. at once, splits and delays presence.’ He also states ‘the structure of supplementarity is very complicated’. The signifier apparently does not just represent the absent signified, it substitutes it and carries on its relation with the missing presence. Therefore, the relationship between supplementarity and différance is clear, the second delays presence, whereas the first maintains a relationship with it. This results in a joint attack against the metaphysics of presence.

To conclude, I believe ‘Voice and Phenomenon’ not only offers a good introduction to Derridean ideas, but that it also offers some interesting insights into phenomenology. I particularly like his criticisms of the metaphysics of presence and I think, going forward, I will need to consider his phenomenological views.