Logic, as Husserl sees it, is concerned in the first place with meanings (propositions, concepts) and with associated meaning-instantiating acts. Most important, it is concerned with that sort of deductively closed collection of meanings that constitutes a scientific theory. For Husserl, as for Bolzano, logic is a theory of science. Only where we have an appropriate unity and organisation also on the side of the objects (states of affairs, properties) to which the relevant acts refer, however, will we have a scientific theory, so that the unity that is characteristic of the latter must involve both (1) an interconnection of truths (or of propositional meanings in general), and (2) an interconnection of the things to which these truths (and the associated cognitive acts) are directed.
Where formal logic relates in the first place to meaning categories such as proposition, concept, subject and predicate, its sister discipline of formal ontology relates to object categories such as object and property, relation and relatum, manifold, part, whole, state of affairs, existence and so on. Logic in a broader sense therefore seeks to delimit the concepts that belong to the idea of a unity of theory in relation to both meanings and objects, and the truths of logic are all the necessary truths relating to those categories of constituents, on the side of both meanings and objects, from out of which science as such is necessarily constituted (including what we might think of as bridge-categories such as identity and truth which span the division between meanings and objects).
Husserl's conception of the science of logic is not an arbitrary one.
For formal-ontological concepts are like the concepts of formal logic in forming complex structures in non-arbitrary, law-governed ("recursive") ways. And because they are independent of any peculiar material of knowledge, we are able to grasp the properties of the given structures in such a way as to establish in one go the properties of all formally similar structures."
The term `formal ontology' has been given two different interpretations. The first of these, entirely in keeping with the mainstream of contemporary philosophy, has been what I will call analytic: formal ontology is that branch of ontology that is analysed within the framework of formal logic. The leading exponent of this approach has undoubtedly been Nino Cocchiarella.' On the premise that each particular science has its own `mode of being', Cocchiarella has written that 'metaphysics [ . . . ] -or what we might instead call formal ontology --is concerned with the study and development of alternative formalizations regarding the systematic coordination of all the 'modes' or 'categories of being' under the most general laws' (1). From this point of view, formal ontology studies the logical characteristics of predication and the various theories of universals.
The other interpretation, which I will call phenomenological, developed from Husserl's early works, in particular Logical investigations. As a first approximation, we may say that this approach mainly addresses the problems of parts and wholes and of dependence. Despite their differences, these two varieties of formal ontology quite frequently overlap each other, although to date there has been no systematic study of the categories and layers that constitute formal ontology and no systematic analysis of the issues addressed by it.
The best way to deal with Husserl's theory of formal ontology, therefore, is to explicate both the connections between the formal and material, and those between the ontological and the logical.
In introducing his distinction between formal and material ontology, Husserl asserts that the former is descriptive and involves analytic a priori judgements, and that the latter involves synthetic a priori judgements. In its most general sense formal ontology concerns itself with characterizing the simple `something'. Depending on how this `something' is conceived, Husserl adds, the `field of formal ontology should be the "formal region" of the object in general' (Formale und transzendentale Logik 1929, art. 38).
Characterizing material ontology is a more complicated matter, because the term can be interpreted in either of two ways. In the genetic interpretation it relates to the field of perception and its foundations (Husserl Krisis 1954, art. 6, sec. 1). In the descriptive interpretation, material ontology is instead optic and concerns the highest material genera, i.e., the material categories in which single ontologies are rooted (Ideen zu einer reinen Phenomenologie 1913, vol. 1, art. 75). The sphere of material ontology in this sense are the laws of non-independence (2) which delimit the ontological regions. For the genetic interpretation, material ontology precedes formal ontology; for the descriptive interpretation it is the other way round (1913, art. 10). Here emerges `the fundamental distinction between formal and material ontology': namely, the distinction between analytic a priori and synthetic a priori.
Detailed treatment has never been given to the stratified connections between material ontology in the genetic sense, formal ontology, and material ontology in the regional sense. It would, however, go beyond my present brief to investigate this question in detail, even though one should have at least a general topographical outline in mind. The second opposition distinguishes the `formal' into ontological and logical. In this sense, we must not confuse or superimpose that which pertains to formal logic and that which pertains to formal ontology. Likewise, we should not superimpose or mix the formal and material meanings of the concepts used."
"The conception of a pure logic, -Husserl himself freely admitted that this was anything but a new idea. He mentions Kant, Herbart, Lotze, and Leibniz between its proponents and gives special credit for the nearly forgotten Bernhard Bolzano, 'one of the greatest logicians of all times.'
But Husserl's own blueprint shows several original features, among which I will mention merely what one might call the two-level structure of pure logic. The first level is that of the propositions or 'truths' studied by the logic of statements ('apophantics') as composed of meanings and their various combinations. The second level consists of the 'things' to which these statements refer, i.e., of the states of affairs (Sachverhalte) which they assert, the relations, complexes, and other configurations that they can enter and which are to be investigated by what Husserl calls a formal ontology.
Actually, this two-level pattern incorporates two one-level conceptions of pure logic, formulated most impressively by Bolzano and by Meinong respectively. Bolzano had organized his pure logic on the propositional level around representational ideas, propositions, and truths (Vorstellung un sich, Satz n sich, Wahrheit un sich). Meinong knew only of the 'state of affairs,' which he had named "Objektiv,” and of other categories of formal ontology. Husserl's conception incorporated both these levels that of the propositions, which are valid or invalid, and that of the states of affairs, which do or do not “subsist,” as Bertrand Russell rendered Meinong's term. (“To be the case” might be a less hypostasising equivalent of the rather harmless German word 'bestehen'.)
However, the development of this pure logic in Husserl's own published writings, originally planned for a third volume '(1) is rather sketchy, although the mathematician Husserl continued to show interest in its mathematical formalization. He even seems to have taken notice of Bertrand Russell's work, but remained sceptical toward the value of a merely symbolic logic and of logical calculus, in which he took no active share. His Formale and transzendentale Logik (1929) contains some important additions to the conception of pure logic. Among them is that of a third level of logic, likewise of ideal structure, namely, that of speech, which consists of the identical sentences that express our propositional meanings: ideal, since, even when uttered at different times and places and by different speakers, they remain identically the same sentences. ( . . . )
Husserl's major interest, once he had established the possibility of a pure logic, turned immediately to different problems. He left its more systematic development to works like Alexander Pfänder's Logik (1921), which investigated the logic of concepts, of propositions, and of inferences, and to studies undertaken by some of his students based on this work, which dealt with the logic of questions, of assumptions, and of laws and commands. Roman Ingarden, one of Husserl's Polish students, gave a particularly impressive application of this type of analysis to the literary work of art, in which he explored separately and in considerable detail its main strata such as that of the sounds, that of the meanings, and that of the object meant, without neglecting additional aspects and the total structure of the work."
Husserl begins from a problem not unlike that of Descartes, the problem of the grounding of the sciences and the possibility of knowledge. Elizabeth Ströker explains the logical problems that Husserl initially took up arose from the state of the discipline of logic at that time, as well as Husserl's clear insight into the growing significance of this discipline for philosophy. In order to make up for a lack of conceptual clarity and rigour in the traditional philosophy of logic, a fundamental distinction first of all had to be made.
Ströker explains that logic, for Husserl, is neither a normative discipline nor a doctrine of the art of "right thinking,” but, as a pure logic, it is the realm of analytic truths, formal laws and "principles"whose validity lies in their form alone, which constitutes the indispensable theoretical foundation that delimits the range of possibilities for any reality. Thus, pure logic is not merely one science among others. Rather it is the science of the most general, formal conditions of the possibility of science as such.4 Husserl is interested in returning to lived experience as lived, in order to disinter the logical structures that order that experience. It is these structures that will furnish the principles of "pure phenomenology,” the unique science fundamental to all the sciences and to philosophy. However, in the course of Husserl's investigations of those structures, in Ideas, it becomes evident that, with regard to those acts of experience in the ego's primordial realm, only immanence is given absolutely, and therefore all claims about transcendence cannot be said to constitute datum, but only conjecture. Actual physical existence outside of intention is always contingent, even the physical thing that is given "in person.”
This conclusion sets in relief the problem with the "natural attitude" whereby we approach the world unreflectively in our "common sense" kind of way. We assumed the real existence of the things of the world as objects "out there" with their own reality exposed as "self-evidence" or concealed as some hidden substratum whose secrets are the object of scientific inquiry. But Husserl reminds us that the lived experience is the primordial sphere, and the objectification that occurs with the "natural attitude" only ever secondary --already theoretical, already an interpretation of that original experience. An object existing in itself is never one with which consciousness or the Ego pertaining to consciousness has nothing to do. 7 We may experience the world of appearances that arise for us as a gathering of things which claim to exist independent of the experience, but that claim, accepted naively by the "natural attitude,” is posited by those things within the primordial sphere of the lived experience.
Since the reality of those things that appear in the primordial sphere is only ever derivative, and since even the intrinsic intelligibility of the experience of them as real does not establish their reality, we can have no certainty whatsoever regarding their actual existence. What we mean by calling the world "real,” then, is that it can be experienced. Thus, the very premises of Husserl's "pure phenomenology" result in a troubling conclusion: despite all my well-founded statements about the world of my experience, about the existence of other egos that share that world, and about the psychophysical interconnections that I experience with them, those experiences do not require, for their existence, any other actual entity outside of me, as experienced
Consciousness considered in its "purity" must be held to be a self-contained complex of being, a complex of absolute being into which nothing can penetrate and out of which nothing can slip, to which nothing is spatiotemporally external and which cannot be within any spatiotemporal complex, which cannot be effected by any physical thing and cannot exercise causation upon any physical thing --it being presupposed that causality has the normal sense of causality pertaining to Nature as a relationship of dependence between realities.
Husserl initiates the phenomenological project beginning from the Cartesian Cogito, employing the radical doubt at the heart of that rigorous method to "bracket" the assumptions made by the ego in the unthinking, commonsense stance of the "natural attitude.” Cartesian dualism cannot even become a problem for the phenomenologist, since the single stream of consciousness becomes the one material for his reflection, and here, another mind's existence is every bit as contingent as another body. For the phenomenologist, the problem becomes: how does the ego break free from its self-imprisonment in the stream of consciousness and make contact with another?
Husserl responds to the charge that transcendental phenomenology results in a solipsism that militates against phenomenology's claim to be viable philosophy. Husserl admits that this criticism "may seem to be a grave objection," (emphasis mine), rephrasing the charge in phenomenological language: When I, the meditating I, reduce myself to my absolute transcendental ego by phenomenological epoché do I not become solus ipse. Do I not remain that as long as I carry on a consistent self-explication under the name phenomenology?
Husserl summarizes the critics' concerns: "if phenomenology cannot really reach the Other from the hypostasis of the transcendentally reduced realm, is it merely a well-intended, thought-provoking experiment that nevertheless has no claim to being a valid philosophy? Does transcendental phenomenology have nothing whatsoever to add to the problem of how to understand our world and our ethical place therein? If phenomenology is to be branded "transcendental solipsism," can it claim to solve, from within the limits of the transcendentally reduced ego, the transcendental problems pertaining to an Objective world?" Husserl concludes: "...and indeed it seems obvious that such unities [other entities constituted in my stream of pure conscious processes] are inseparable from my ego and therefore belong to his concreteness of self (emphasis mine). The problem does appear to be a "grave" one. The world as disclosed in lived experience is always a world for me. Its concreteness can never be separated from its concreteness in my experience of it. The world's real being can never be claimed with certitude solely by reference to my experiences of it. Its independent reality could perhaps be explained if I could be certain of the existence of other monads, other egos, who, through their experiences of it, share the world with me. Objectivity could be posited and exhibited if diverse theses of objective being which originate for different subjects could be shown to harmonize. But the real existence of other egos falls prey to the same difficulty as the existence of the rest of the objective world. The Fourth Meditation's reduction only underscored this fact when it led to the logical consequence that all being is reduced to "being-sense,” and all sense is part of the intentional life of the ego. It seems, then, that all difference, "smoothed out" by means of the eidetic variations, is thus absorbed and negated, sucked up into my own conscious life.
Husserl notes that transcendental phenomenology seems to share this problem with transcendental realism, since both essentially result in a search for a path that might connect the immanency of the ego with the transcendency of the Other. It appears as though for both: The Nature and the whole world that are constituted "immanently" in the ego are only my "ideas" and have behind them the world that exists in itself. The way to this world must still be sought.
Husserl takes very seriously the critics' objections, affirming their suspicion that reaching the Other directly from within the epoché is utterly problematic. However, the language he employs in explicating the objection repeatedly yawns a gap between the seriousness of the charge and the "seeming" nature of the charge. "The problem seems to be . . . "; "It appears as though . . . ” What is suggested by underscoring the "seeming" nature of the charge is that the problem that is commonly considered threatening to the viability of phenomenology be only a problem that "seems" to be. The nature of that "seeming" is left to stand for the moment, unresolved, unglorified.
Husserl continues his account of the charges against phenomenology, but now he executes a shift --a subtle shift that converts the gaze of the problematic from the charge levelled from outside phenomenology's project into a challenge to be taken up within the project. He asks: But what about other egos, who surely are not a mere intending in me, merely synthetic unities of possible verification in me, but, according to their sense, precisely others? The problem now has ceased to be "How can we have direct knowledge of the Other within the primordial realm?" but has become "What does it mean, in view of the impossibility of the ego's direct access to the Other, that the very 'sense' by which he presents himself to me includes the claim of absolute otherness?" This shift of perspective, from the outside looking into the inside looking out of the ego's primordial realm permits an insight into the "seeming" nature of the externally-levelled charge. This is further clarified with the "unavoidable" corollary to the question concerning the seeming identity of phenomenology's problematic with that of transcendental idealism. The difference between the two lies in the fact that: The very question of the possibility of actually transcendent knowledge -- . . . this question cannot be asked purely phenomenologically.
Husserl reasserts that the very field of knowledge for the transcendental ego has to do exclusively with what is synthetically comprised within the transcendental ego itself. Phenomenology begins from that self-understanding. Phenomenology in principle chooses the method of a self-imposed solipsism, deliberately bracketing out all claims to objective existence in order to investigate what such claims intend. In reducing the subject to the absolute transcendental ego through the phenomenological epoché, the subject is rendered radically isolated. He is circumscribed as solus ipse and remains thus for as long as phenomenology is being carried out, precisely in order to arrive at a consistent self-explication. The charge that the processes and unities that comprise the stream of pure consciousness are inseparable from the ego is an absurd charge, from the point of view of the phenomenological project. The question that is being raised as an objection from without cannot even be asked within the phenomenological project itself. It can never become a problem for phenomenology to explain why it cannot pretend to achieve that which it does not intend to achieve, that which is, so to speak, not its business to achieve. Johanna Tito explains: The very thought of a transcendental "outside" with respect to my field of consciousness would be absurd.
However, Husserl does not abandon the problem in view of its inapplicability to phenomenology, but, rather, takes up the objection as a challenge to be addressed from within the epoché . . . it might indeed be more fitting to undertake the task of phenomenological explication indicated in this connection by the "alter ego" and carry it through in concrete work.
Rather than dismiss the charge, Husserl chooses to put it to concrete use as an opportunity to investigate a new realm. He allows the charge to determine the new philosophical task. One more appropriate to phenomenology. We must, after all, obtain for ourselves insight into the implicit and explicit intentionality wherein the alter ego becomes evinced and verified in the realm of our transcendental ego; we must discover in what intentionalities, syntheses, motivations, the sense " other ego" becomes fashioned in me and, under the title, harmonious experience of someone else, becomes verified as existing and even as itself there in its own manner.
The problem now has to do with explaining the phenomenal fact that, in limiting my reflection to the stream of my own conscious mental processes and my own lived experiences, otherness somehow forces itself in upon me, compelling me to attribute physical truth to its existence, compelling me to experience it as absolute otherness even where I know that experience is mine, is fashioned within me and verified within me. Though I know all experiences to be mine, I do nevertheless experience this world not as my world, but as a "real world" independent of my positing, a "world of phenomena" there for other egos to experience as well. And I do experience other beings, "alter egos,” in the mode of a self-presentation within my conscious life, with an originality and a specificity that requires my conclusion of their radical otherness. How are we to understand? : the datum's forcing itself against the ego as a cause of the ego's turning-toward, of becoming wakeful or reflective. Thought thrown back on itself, reflective thought, is at the same time pulled out of itself and forced to go beyond itself.
This new problem, replacing the external objection, will be the focus of Husserl's contemplation throughout the remainder of the Fifth Cartesian Meditation.
However, we must ask why Husserl chooses to take up the problem of solipsism, levelled by critics from a position external to phenomenology, if the charge is not one that is genuinely applicable and meaningful within the phenomenological project. On the one hand, the objection is taken up as an act of sheer philosophical courage on Husserl's part In fact, that decision underlines the phenomenological perspective itself: to investigate all things that arise in lived experience, and most especially those things that appear as most certain, for Husserl understood it to be phenomenology's task to be surprised at what is taken for granted in the "natural attitude" --to wonder at what arises as already "self-evident."
But, perhaps even more significantly, the external objection is taken up because it sets in relief the new problem, the problem of explaining the sense of "otherness" contained in the experience of the Other, and this new problem is one of serious import, having truly "grave" consequences for phenomenology. Paul Ricoeur calls it "the touchstone of transcendental phenomenology . . . extending much further than the merely psychological question of the way in which we know other men." Ricoeur explains what is at stake: (1) the objectivity of the world insofar as it is the object of a plurality of subjects, and (2) the reality of the historical communities built upon the network of exchanges going on among real men. In this respect the problem of the Other plays the same role in Husserl that the divine veracity plays in Descartes, for it grounds every truth and reality that goes beyond the simple reflection of the subject on itself.
Thus it can be argued that the new problem, the problem of how the transcendental ego experiences the Other as other, has far more at stake than the external charge, since it puts into question the credibility of phenomenology from within. The gravity of this problematic can be witnessed by the fact that it became the focus of Husserl's thought for four decades beginning in 1910. In the remainder of the Fifth Meditation, Husserl will confront the paradox of the self-presentation of the Other as other, taking the "modes of givenness" of the experience of the Other as his "guiding thread. Husserl will go on in the Fifth Meditation to clarify the sense of the Other, to explicate him as a special mode of transcendence, to demonstrate that otherness creeps into the seemingly solipsistic primordial realm of transcendental experience even in its most radical reduction in the state of "ownness. The full course of these investigations cannot be treated here, but we wish to draw out the implications of that experiment with respect to the "grave objection" from which the current analysis began. An important consequence of this experiment speaks directly to that original charge of solipsism and at the same moment opens, in phenomenology, an ethical dimension with which it is rarely credited. The paradox of the impossible yet undeniable meeting place of the I and the Other emerges as a paradox only in the failure of solipsism, in the demonstrated impossibility of erasing the Other from my world. The second degree reduction, the radical reduction to the sphere of my "ownness,” forces me to confront the limit of that purification, the terminus that refuses to yield to my reflective operation. Tito describes the limit succinctly: In descriptive psychological terms, one might say that through lack of gratification, I become aware of my limitations, I begin to define myself (fines= boundaries, limits) and am at the same time thrust on the path of seeking to restore the sense of continuity that has been disrupted, to restore my strength. The latter necessitates thought to go into the world and to make of it an ally.
No matter how I attempt to purge it of the alien, my primordial sphere becomes the space that always collapses into a site of constitution, my "ownness" becoming a point of departure from the "me" and an entry point of the Other. Husserl sketches the implications of this encroachment: The fact of experience of something alien (something that is not I), is present as experience of an Objective world and others in it (non-Ego in the form: other Ego); and an important result of the ownness reduction was that it brought out a substratum belonging to them, an intentional substratum in which a reduced "world" shows itself, as an "immanent transcendency.
The inevitable arrival of the Other in my world demonstrates that the I "owns" nothing that is entirely its own. Contrary to the "grave" objections of phenomenology's critics, every dimension of the primordial realm is invaded by the Other. The ego is never enclosed only within its own self. In fact, on the contrary, it is clear that my world only comes about -and comes about in the richness and the fullness that characterize it as a world -as a result of that encroachment, since the "transcendent world,” regardless of its ideality as a synthetic unity belonging to an infinite system of my potentialities, . . . is . . . a determining part of my own concrete being. I come to be with the arrival of the Other. The invasion of the Other achieves something that, alone, the ego cannot accomplish. Through the Other, the ego's world takes shape, accomplishes a density that emerges precisely because of the limitations imposed by the foreign upon the ego's sphere of "ownness.” His world is built upon the impossibility of his absolute dominion.
Therefore, it is the conclusion of this paper that Husserl does not take up the problem of the objective world because he considers it a "grave objection" which threatens the very viability of phenomenology as philosophy. Rather, he takes up the objection as a challenge to phenomenology in order to call into question one of phenomenology's own deepest conclusions up to this point-the absolute dominion of the ego in the transcendental realm of his own lived experience. As David Carr expresses this, this project reflects back on phenomenology as a whole, calling into question one of its most explicitly Cartesian elements, its dependence on the apodicticity of the ego Cogito.
Solipsism is traditionally a Cartesian problem, or possibly a Leibnizian one. And Husserl is often mistaken as attempting a Cartesian or Leibnizian solution to it. But this is another misunderstanding on the part of phenomenology's critics. Rather, the objection of solipsism affords Husserl the opportunity to demonstrate the effectiveness of the phenomenological method for revealing dimensions of existence that do not readily offer themselves up to the common sense gaze. The result of the Fifth Meditation's reflections upon the question of intersubjectivity reveals the limitations that reside within the constitutive powers of the ego. And it reveals the impossibility of arriving at a full account of the Other as a being-for-me. Significantly, only with the investigation of the excluded Other from the "solipsistic" realm of the ego's stream of consciousness does the uniqueness of other human beings come to the fore. Others are revealed in the Fifth Meditation as absolutely other than any other entity that enters my primordial realm. The "alter ego" is not even susceptible of the kind of treatment afforded other kinds of things within the world. He cannot even be considered purely as meant. This revelation underscores the phenomenal fact, deeply laced with ethical meaning, that other egos are not reducible to the certain kind of appresentation that I have of them. Though the Other "gives" himself to me in my lived experiences, that "giving" is accomplished against my will, not in submission to it. And even once "given,” unlike represented objects, he cannot even be considered truly "given.” He gives himself to me, but he exists only for him. Phenomenology is a rationality, a reflection on the stream of consciousness that studies the essential structures of a wakeful ego. The Fifth Meditation demonstrates that this ego is intersubjective through and through, from the lowest level of sensible awareness of other things in the world to the highest level at which the Cogito willfully grasps the Other ego in his view. By the end of the Fifth Meditation, we see Husserl insisting upon the equal dignity, even the primacy of intersubjective phenomenology and its correlate, transcendental intersubjectivity.
The point of that Meditation, then, is not merely to consider the "grave objection" of solipsism to the project of phenomenology, but, rather, to demonstrate the paradox of the invaded solipsism that distinguishes phenomenology from other idealistic philosophies. Husserl had already exposed the fact that objective thought, forgetful of its origin in lived experience, runs the risk of falsifying its understanding of its own world and others in its world. A naive phenomenology reveals the falsification of that common sense attitude, but, considered purely logically, issues in a solipsism. However, a deeper phenomenology, performed through a more radical reduction, exposes the falsity of that naive phenomenology, exposes the radical intersubjective nature of all egos.
Heidegger's Being in the World starts from the assumption that humans are inseparable from their world. That is, the essence of human existence is inseparable from the surrounding social, natural, and divine world. As Gray (1957) describes man, of holding to some untold story of being human, this reality must be discovered in the world and the world belongs to his reality. All of what we are and ought be, is the consciousness of some challenging dialectic awarenesses that brings within it, both a conceptual and contentual representation for which we are to think or to experience of the analytic situation, and that be within that world. (Haar, 1993). Gray (1957) goes on to say that Heidegger believed that: The ontological reality of the non-human world cannot appear through the manipulations of man. But things will not appear as things, he hastens to add, `without the alertness of mortals.` In other words, human beings form an integral part of reality, a necessary part of the whole. Humans are never isolated subjects, according to Heidegger, rather their very essence is constituted by their world.
The concept of Being (always capitalized) is central to Heidegger view of reality. Being is allowing the self-revealing or self-manifesting of other beings. As Guignon, `Being comes to be thought of as a temporal event, a `movement into presence` inseparable from the understanding of being embodied in Daseins forms of life. It is the event (Ereignis) of disclosedness in which entities come to be appropriated into intelligibility.` (Dasein is a German expression (lit: being there) used by Heideggerean scholars, and by Heidegger himself, to refer to human existence.)
Heidegger said that very way of looking at it is all wrong. You simply can't have the "mind" part without the "stuff out there" part and you can't have the "stuff out there part" without the "mind" part. You cannot just have "the thing that spews lava occasionally" without also, always, at the same time, having an "angry god" or "plate tectonics" and vice versa. You cannot have "things" without also having something that knows them. You can't have knowledge without things to know. We have already learned that our knowledge of things is always understood through the filter of a paradigm. We interpret things and events that appear to us.
Heidegger says that there is a type of creature where things in the world and interpretations of what those things are comes together. It is called a "Dasein.” A Dasein combines, no–is the combination of real events in the world with the meaningful interpretation--the "knowledge"--of what they are.
Heidegger inquired about what we are. What he came up with was that we are a particular type of creature called a "Dasein" which means "the there-being.” What Heidegger means by this is that we are always there, in a world full of real things that then must be given some kind of meaning. The key here is that there is no world without a meaningful interpretation and there is no meaningful interpretation without a world. We are the "creature-that-interprets.” Homo hermeneuticus.
So, for instance, a volcano is a real event in the world. A Dasein is the creature that combines this with a meaningful interpretation such as "angry god" or "a mechanistic result of geology and plate tectonics.” The things in the world and our interpretations are not two separate, mechanistic parts. They are one whole thing. You can't have one without the other. They are not two interacting parts. They are two sides of the same coin.
In general, most people interpret the world according to how they have been taught to interpret it. Daseins though, do have a small degree of freedom to choose how to interpret events. For instance, if you have a fight with your best friend how will you interpret it? What will it mean to you? Was she just having a bad day? Maybe he has the flu? Perchance, you may have done something to anger her? Perhaps he has found someone he likes better and doesn't want to be your friend anymore? How will you interpret the fight? Only a Dasein has such an ability to choose what things will mean. If you were abused as a child does that mean "you have an excuse,” "need help,” or "it doesn't matter now?” Everything we experience is a combination of real things and what they mean to us.
We never know things in themselves, as they actually are. We only know our meaningful interpretations of things, and we have some freedom to change interpretations. We interpret in ways no other animal displays. Other animals do not appear to be Daseins. Their interpretation of events in the world appears to be solely a result of genetic programming and training (think of pet tricks). Basically, for animals that are not Dasein, things are either “"safe" or "not safe,” "comfortable" or "not comfortable.” Daseins, however, are not so constrained.
We live in a world of quarks and neutrons, pulsars and black holes. Other animals only have comfort, hunger, and such. Our relationships with others of our kind have frustration, justice, love, hate and infinite gradations of thought and feeling. Other animals have attraction or avoidance. We manipulate the natural world in unbelievable ways. I mean, we don't react to the moon by howling. We build a ship and go there! We display evidence of reflective awareness of our own existence and nonexistence in monuments and art that is not seen in any other animal. We are distinct and unique. We are Dasein. Space has a history. In the cosmology of classical Greece, as F. M. Cornford writes, ‘the universe of being was finite and spherical, with no endless stretch of emptiness beyond. Space had the form of . . . a sphere with centre and circumference.’ This classical-space essentially survived the biblically derived ‘flat earth’ of early Christian doctrine, to reemerge in the late Middle Ages. In medieval cosmology, supercelestial and celestial spheres encompassed, but did not touch, a terrestrial sphere -the space of human action -in which every being, and each thing, had a place preordained by God and was subject to. His omnivoyant gaze. Foucault has termed this medieval space the ‘space of emplacement’; this space, he observes, was effectively destroyed by Galileo: ‘For the real scandal of Galileo’s work lay not so much in his discovery, or rediscovery, that the earth revolved around the sun, but in his constitution of an infinite, and infinitely open space. In such a space the place of the Middle Ages turned out to be dissolved . . . starting with Galileo and the seventeenth century, extension was substituted for localisation.
The vehicle of this changed cosmology was Euclidean geometry. Euclid wrote the Elements of Geometry around 300 BC. Husserl, in The Origin of Geometry, supposes that this system arose out of practical activities, such as building. However, the classical conception of space seems to have been based upon visual evidence rather than technique the horizon appears to encircle us, and the heavens appear to be vaulted above us. In the Renaissance this conflict between observation and intellection, between hyperbolic and Euclidean space, has played out during the early stages of the invention of perspective. (The absence of a necessary connection between knowledge of Euclidean geometry and the development of perspective is evident from the example of the Islamic world.) In the West, the primacy of geometry over perception was stressed by St Augustine, who wrote: ‘reason advanced to the province of the eyes . . . It found . . . that nothing that the eyes beheld, could in any way be compared with what the mind discerned. These distinct and separate realities it also reduced to a branch of learning, and called it geometry.
Although dependent upon Euclid’s Elements, Renaissance perspective took its most fundamental concept from Euclid’s Optics. The concept is that of the ‘cone of vision’. Some two thousand years after Euclid, Brunelleschi conceives of this same cone as intersected by a plane surface -the picture-plane. By means of this model, something of the pre-modern world view passes into the Copernican universe -a universe that is no longer geocentric, but which is nevertheless homocentric and egocentric. A basic principle of Euclidean geometry is that space extends infinitely in three dimensions. The effect of monocular perspective, however, is to maintain (he idea that this space does nevertheless have a centre -the observer. By degrees the sovereign gaze is transferred from God to Man. With the ‘emplacement’ of the medieval world now dissolved, this ocular subject of perspective, and of mercantile capitalism, is free to pursue its entrepreneurial ambitions wherever trade winds blow.
Entrepreneurial humanism first took liberties with, then eventually replaced, theocentric determinism, according to a model that is implicitly Aristotelian. And in a manner that exemplifies the way in which spatial conceptions are projected into the representation of political relationships. In Aristotle’s cosmological physics it was assumed that the preponderance of one or other of the four elements first posited by Empedocles (earth, water, air and fire) would determine the place of that body within a continuum from the centre to the periphery of the universe. This continuum of actual and potential ‘places’ constituted space. Analogously, the idea that a human being will find his or her natural place within the social space of differential privileges according to his or her ‘inherent’ qualities has remained a cornerstone of humanist-derived political philosophies. Newton disengaged space per se from Aristotelian ‘place’, and Newtonian physics was in turn overtaken by the physics of Einstein, in which, in the words of Minkowski, ‘space by itself, and time by itself, are doomed to fade away into mere shadows, and only a kind of union of the two will preserve an independent reality’. More recently, the precepts of general relativity have themselves come into question in ‘quantum theory’. The cosmology of modern physics has nevertheless had little impact on the commonly held world view in the West, which is still predominantly an amalgam of Newton and Aristotelianism -‘places in space’, a system of centres of human affairs (homes, workplace, cities) deployed within a uniform regular and vaguely endless ‘space in itself’.
In the modernist avant-garde in art, references to a mutation in the apprehension of space and time brought about by modern physics and mathematics are usual. Thus, for example, in 1925 El Lissitsky wrote: ‘Perspective bounded and enclosed space, but science has since brought about a fundamental revision. The rigidity of Euclidean space has been annihilated by Lobachevsky, Gauss, and Riemann. Nevertheless, modernists more commonly ascribed the changed apprehension of space not to scientific concepts per se, but rather to technology. Thus, Vertov wrote: ‘I am the cinema-eye. I am a mechanical eye. I, a machine, can show you the world as only I can see it . . . I ascend with aeroplanes, I fall and rise together with failing and rising bodies.’ Constrained by mechanical metaphors, Russian futurism, like cubism, ultimately failed -notwithstanding El Lissitsky’s pronouncement -to abandon Euclidean geometry. The mirror of perspectival representation was broken only in order that its fragments, each representing a distinct point of view, be reassembled according to classical geometric principles -to be returned, finally, to the frame and the proscenium arch.
In the modern period, space was predominantly space traversed (by this token we judge that the prisoner has little of it). In the ‘postmodern’ period, the speed with which space is traversed is no longer governed by the mechanical speed of machines such as aeroplanes, but rather by the electronic speed of machines such as computers and video links, which operate at nearly the speed of light. A mutation in technology therefore had, arguably, brought the technologies inherited from the spatial perceptions of modernist aesthetics into line with the perceptions of modern physics. Thus, for example, Paul Virilio writes that ‘technological space . . . is not a geographical space, but a space of time’. In this space/time of electronic communications, operating at the speed of light, we see things, he observes, ‘in a different light’ -the ‘light of speed’. Moreover, this space seems to be moving, once again, toward self-enclosure. For example, David Bolter, a classics professor writing about computer programming, concludes, ‘In sum, electronic space has the feel of ancient geometric space.’ One of the phenomenological effects of the public applications of new electronic technologies is to cause space to be apprehended as ‘folding back’ upon itself. Spaces once conceived of as separated, segregated, now overlapped: live pictures from Voyager II, as it passes through the rings of Saturn, may appear on television sandwiched between equally ‘live’ pictures of internal organs, transmitted by surgical probes, and footage from Soweto. A counterpart, in the political sphere, of the fold-over spaces of information technologies is terrorism. In the economic sphere it is the tendency of multinational capitalism to produce First World irruptions in Third World countries, while creating Second World pockets in the developed nations. To contemplate such phenomena is no longer to inhabit an imaginary space ordered by the subject-object ‘stand-off’ of Euclidean perspective. The analogies which fit best are now to be found in non-Euclidean geometries -the topologist’s Mobius strip, for example, where the apparently opposing sides prove to be formed from a single, continuous, surface.
Space, then, has a history. It is not, as Kant would have it, a product of a priori, inherently Euclidean. Categories. It is a product of representations. Primordial space is imbounded, as things within it are assigned a place along a predominant vertical axis -heaven-earth-hell, or the “chain of being” to extend from God down to stones. Modern space (inaugurated in the Renaissance) is Euclidean, horizontal, infinitely extensible, and therefore, in principle, boundless. In the early modern period it is the space of the humanist subject in its mercantile entrepreneurial incarnation. In the late modern period it is the space of industrial capitalism, the space of an exponentially increased pace of dispersal, displacement and dissemination of people and things. In the ‘post-modern’ period it is the space of financial capitalism -the former space in the process of imploding or ‘unfolding’; to appropriate a Derridean term, it is space in the process of ‘intravagination’. Twenty years ago Guy Debord wrote about the unified space of capitalist production, ‘which is no longer bounded by external societies’, the abstract space of the market which ‘had to destroy the autonomy and quality of places’, and he commented: ‘The society which eliminates geographical distance reproduces distance internally as spectacular separation’. Such ‘internal distance’ is that of Psychical space. Nevertheless, as I have already remarked, psychoanalytically inspired theories of representation have tended in recent years to remain faithful to the Euclidean geometrical-optical metaphors of the modern period.
One thing that happened during the Renaissance that was of great importance for the later character of modern philosophy was the birth of modern science. Even as in the Middle Ages philosophy was often thought of as the "handmaiden of theology," modern philosophers have often thought of their discipline as little more than the "handmaiden of science." Even for those who haven't thought that, the shadow of science, its spectacular success and its influence on modern life and history, have been hard to ignore.
For a long time, philosophers as diverse as David Hume, Karl Marx, and Edmund Husserl have seen the value of their in work in the claim that they were making philosophy "scientific." Those claims should have ended with Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), who for the first time clearly provided a distinction between the issues that science could deal with and those that it couldn't, but since Kant's theory could not be demonstrated the same way as a scientific theory, the spell of science, even if it is only through pseudo-science, continues.
The word "science" itself is simply the Latin word for knowledge: scientia. Until the 1840's what we now call science was "natural philosophy," so that even Isaac Newton's great book on motion and gravity, published in 1687, was The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy (Principia Mathematica Philosophiae Naturalis). Newton was, to himself and his contemporaries, a "philosopher." In a letter to the English chemist Joseph Priestley written in 1800, Thomas Jefferson lists the "sciences" that interest him as, "botany, chemistry, zoology, anatomy, surgery, medicine, natural philosophy [this probably means physics], agriculture, mathematics, astronomy, geography, politics, commerce, history, ethics, law, arts, fine arts." The list begins on familiar enough terms, but we hardly think of history, ethics, or the fine arts as "sciences" anymore. Jefferson simply uses to the term to mean "disciplines of knowledge."
Something new was happening in natural philosophy, however, and it was called the nova scientia, the "new" knowledge. It began with Mikolaj Kopernik (1473-1543), whose Polish name was Latinized to Nicolaus Copernicus. To ancient and mediaeval astronomers the only acceptable theory about the universe came to be that of geocentrism, that the Earth is the centre of the universe, with the sun, moon, planets, and stars moving around it. But astronomers needed to explain a couple of things: why Mercury and Venus never moved very far away from the sun--they are only visible a short time after sunset or before sunrise--and why Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn sometimes stop and move backwards for a while (retrograde motion) before resuming their forward motion. Believing that the heavens were perfect, everyone wanted motion there to be regular, uniform, and circular. The system of explaining the motion of the heavenly bodies using uniform and circular orbits was perfected by Claudius Ptolemy, who lived in Egypt probably during the reign of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius (161-180). His book, still known by its Arabic title, the Almagest (from Greek Tò Mégiston, "The Greatest"), explains that the planets are fixed to small circular orbits (epicycles) which they are fixed to the main orbits. With the epicycles moving one way and the main orbits the other, the right combination of orbits and speeds can reproduce the motion of the planets as we see them. The only problem is that the system is complicated. It takes something like 27 orbits and epicycles to explain the motion of five planets, the sun, and the moon. This is called the Ptolemaic system of astronomy.
Copernicus noticed that it would make things a lot simpler (Ockham's Razor) if the sun were the centre of motion rather than the earth. The peculiarities of Mercury and Venus, not explained by Ptolemy, now are explained by the circumstance that the entire orbits of Mercury and Venus are inside the Earth's orbit. They cannot get around behind the Earth to be seen in the night sky. The motion of Mars and the other planets is explained by the circumstance that the inner planets move faster than the outer ones. Mars does not move backwards; it is simply overtaken and passed by the Earth, which makes it look, against the background, as though Mars is moving backwards. Similarly, although it looks like the stars move once around the Earth every day, Copernicus figured that it was just the Earth that was spinning, not the stars. This was the Copernican Revolution.
Now this all seems obvious. But in Copernicus's day the weight of the evidence was against him. The only evidence he had was that his system was simpler. Against him was the prevailing theory of motion. Mediaeval physics believed that motion was caused by some forming "impetus." Things are naturally at rest. Just as an impulsion that makes in of something have to locomotion, and just as it runs out, leaving the object to slow and place in rest. Something that continues moving therefore has to keep being pushed, and pushing is something you can feel. (This was even an argument for the existence of God, sometimes often comes of something very big
-instances from God -for which, of pushing to keep the celestial orchestrations going.) So if the Earth and Heaven remain unified, might that we that is, our spatiality is moving, and why don't we feel its temporal state? Copernicus could not answer that question. Neither was there an obvious way out of what was actually a brilliant prediction: If the stars did not move, then they could be different distances from the earth. As the earth moved in its orbit, the nearer stars should appear to move back and forth against more distant stars. This is called "stellar parallax," but unfortunately stellar parallax is so small that it was not observed until 1838. So, at the time, supporters of Copernicus could only contend, lamely, that the stars must all be so distant that their parallax could not be detected.
Copernicus was also worried about getting in trouble with the Church. The Protestant Reformation had started in 1517, and the Catholic Church was not in any mood to have any more of its doctrines, even about astronomy, questioned. So Copernicus did not let his book be published until he lay dying.
The answers, the evidence, and the trouble for Copernicus's system came with Galileo Galilei (1564-1642). Galileo is important and famous for three things: (1) Most importantly he applied mathematics to motion. This was the real beginning of modern science. There is no math in Aristotle's Physics. There is nothing but math in modern physics books. Galileo made the change. It is inconceivable now that science could be done any other way. Aristotle had said, simply based on reason, that if one object is heavier than another, it will fall faster. Galileo tried that out and discovered that Aristotle was wrong. Aerodynamics aside, everything falls at the same rate. But then Galileo determined what that rate was by rolling balls down an inclined plane (not by dropping them off the Leaning Tower of Pisa, which is the legend). This required him to distinguish between velocity (e.g., metres per second) and acceleration (change in velocity, e.g., metres per second per second). Gravity produced an acceleration--9.8 metres per second per second. Instantly Galileo had an answer for Copernicus: simple velocity is not felt, only acceleration is. So the earth can be moving without our feeling it. Also, velocity does not change until a force changes it. That is the idea of inertia, which then replaced the old idea of an impetus. All this theory was ultimately perfected by Isaac Newton (1642-1727).
(2) With the objections to Copernicus's theory removed, the case was completed with positive evidence. Around 1609 it was discovered in the Netherlands that putting two lenses (which had been used since the 13th century as eye glasses) together made distant objects look close. Galileo heard about this and he produced the first astronomical quality telescope. With his telescope he saw several things: (a) the Moon had mountains and valleys. This upset the ancient notion that the heavens, the Moon included, were completely unlike the Earth. (b) the Planets all showed disks and were not points of light like stars. © Jupiter had four moons. This upset the argument, which had been used against Copernicus, that there could only be one centre of motion in the universe. Now there were three (the Sun, Earth, and Jupiter). (d) There were many more stars in the sky than could be seen with the eye; and the Milky Way, which was always just a glow, was itself composed of stars. And finally (e) Venus went through phases like the Moon. That vindicated Copernicus, for in the Ptolemaic system Venus, moving back and forth at the same distance between the Earth and the Sun, would only go from crescent to crescent. It would mostly have its dark side turned to us. With Copernicus, however, Venus goes around on the other side of the Sun and so, in the distance, would show us a small full face. As it comes around the Sun toward the Earth, we would see it turn into a crescent as the disk grows larger. Those are the phases, from small full to large crescent, that Galileo saw. The only argument that could be used against him was that the telescope must be creating illusions. In fact it was not well understood why a telescope worked. Some people looked at stars and saw two instead of one. That seemed to prove that the telescope was unreliable. Soon it was simply accepted that many stars are double. They still are.
(3) With his evidence and his arguments, Galileo was ready to prove the case for Copernican astronomy. He had the support of the greatest living astronomer, Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), but not the Catholic Church. He had been warned once to watch it, but then a friend of his became Pope Urban VIII (1623-1644). The Pope agreed that Galileo could write about both Ptolemaic and Copernican systems, setting out the arguments for each. Galileo wrote A Dialogue on the Two Principal Systems of the World (1632). Unfortunately, the representative of the Ptolemaic system in the dialogue was made to appear foolish, and the Pope thought it was a caricature of himself. Galileo was led before the Inquisition, "shown the instruments of torture," and invited to recant. He did, but was kept under house arrest for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, it was too late. No serious astronomer could ever be a geocentrist again, and the only discredit fell against the Church. Descartes is justly regarded as the Father of Modern Philosophy. This is not because of the positive results of his investigations, which were few, but because of the questions that he raised and problems that he created, problems that have still not been answered to everyone's satisfaction: particularly the Problem of Knowledge and the Mind-Body Problem. And in a day when philosophy and science were not distinguished from each other, Descartes was a famous physicist and mathematician as well as a philosopher. Descartes' physics was completely overthrown by that of Newton, so we do not much remember him for that. But Descartes was a great mathematician of enduring importance. He originated analytic geometry, where all of the algebra can be given geometrical expression. Like Galileo combining physics and mathematics, this also combined two things that had previously been apart, arithmetic and geometry. The modern world would not be the same without graphs of equations. Rectangular coordinates for graphing are still called Cartesian coordinates (from Descartes' name: des Cartes). Seeing Descartes as a mathematician explains why he was the kind of philosopher that he was. Now it is hard to reconcile Descartes' status as a scientist and the inspiration he derived from Galileo and others with his clear distrust of experience. Isn't science about experience? We might think so. But the paradox of modern science is its dependence on mathematics. Where does mathematics come from? What makes it true? Many mathematicians will still answer like Plato, but that certainly has little to do with experience. So Descartes belongs to this puzzling, mathematical side of science, not to the side concerned with experience.
Meditations on First Philosophy is representative of his thought. "First philosophy" simply means what is done first in philosophy. The most important thing about Descartes as a philosopher is that "first philosophy" changed because of what he did. What stood first in philosophy since Aristotle was metaphysics. Thus the first question for philosophy to answer was about what is real. That decided, everything else could be done. With such an arrangement we can say that philosophy functions with Ontological Priority. In the Meditations we find that questions about knowledge come to the fore. If there are problems about what we can know, then we may not even be able to know what is real. But if questions about knowledge must be settled first, then this establishes Epistemological Priority for philosophy. Indeed, this leads to the creation of the Theory of Knowledge, Epistemology, as a separate discipline within philosophy for the first time. Previously, knowledge had been treated as falling in the domain of Aristotle's logical works (called, as a whole, the Organon), especially the Posterior Analytics. Modern philosophy has been driven by questions about knowledge. It begins with two principal traditions, Continental Rationalism and British Empiricism. The Rationalists, including Descartes, believed that reason was the fundamental source of knowledge. Empiricist’s believed that experience was. Epistemological priority makes possible what has become a very common phenomenon in modern philosophy: denying that metaphysics is possible at all, or even that metaphysical questions mean anything. That can happen when epistemology draws the limits of knowledge, or the limits of meaning, so tight that metaphysical statements or questions are no longer allowed.
The most important issues get raised in the first three of the six Meditations. In the first meditation Descartes begins to consider what he can know. He applies the special method that he has conceived (about which he had already written the Discourse on Method), known as "methodical doubt." As applied, methodical doubt has two steps: (1) doubt everything that can be doubted, and (2) don't accept anything as known unless it can be established with absolute certainty. Today Descartes is often faulted for requiring certainty of knowledge. But that was no innovation with him: ever since Plato and Aristotle, knowledge was taken to imply certainty. Anything without certainty would just be opinion, not knowledge. The disenchantment with certainty today has occurred just because it turned out to be so difficult to justify certainty to the rigour that Descartes required. Logically the two parts of methodical doubt are very similar, but in the Meditations they are procedurally different. Doubt does its job in the first meditation. Descartes wonders what he can really know about a piece of matter like a lump of wax. He wonders if he might actually be dreaming instead of sitting by the fireplace. Ultimately he wonders if the God he has always believed in might actually be a malevolent Demon capable of using his omnipotence to deceive us even about our own thoughts or our own existence. Thus, there is nothing in all his experience and knowledge that Descartes cannot call into doubt. The junk of history, all the things he ever thought he had known, gets swept away.
Ever since the Meditations, Descartes' Deceiving Demon has tended to strike people as a funny or absurd idea. Nevertheless, something far deeper and more significant is going on in the first meditation than we might think. It is a problem about the relation of causality to knowledge. The relation of cause to effect had been of interest since Aristotle. There was something odd about it. Given knowledge of a cause (and of the laws of nature), we can usually predict what the effect will be. Touch the hot stove, and you'll get burned. Step off a roof, and you'll fall. But given the effect, it is much more difficult to reason backwards to the cause. The arson squad shows up to investigate the cause of a fire, but that is not an easy task: many things could have caused the fire, and it is always possible that they might not be able to figure out at all what the cause was. The problem is that the relation between cause and effect is not symmetrical. Given a cause, there will be one effect. But given an effect, there could have been many causes able to produce the same effect. And even if we can't predict the effect from the cause, we can always wait around to see what it is. But if we can't determine the cause from the effect, time forever conceals it from us. This feature of causality made for some uneasiness in mediaeval Western, and even in Indian, philosophy. Many people tried to argue that the effect was contained in the cause, or the cause in the effect. None of that worked, or even made much sense.
With Descartes, this uneasiness about causality becomes a terror in relation to knowledge: for, in perception, what is the relation of the objects of knowledge to our knowledge of them? Cause to effect. Thus what we possess, our perceptions, are the effects of external causes. In thinking that we know external objects, we are reasoning backwards from effect to cause. Trouble. Why couldn't our perceptions have been caused by something else? Indeed, in ordinary life we know that they can be. There are hallucinations. Hallucinations can be caused by a lot of things: fever, insanity, sensory deprivation, drugs, trauma, etc. Descartes' Deceiving Demon is more outlandish, but it employs the same principle, and touches the same raw nerve. That raw nerve is now known as the Problem of Knowledge: How can we have knowledge through perception of external objects? There is no consensus on how to solve this even today. The worst thing is not that there haven't been credible solutions proposed, there have been, but that the solutions should explain why perception is so obvious in ordinary life. Philosophical explanations are usually anything but obvious, as anyone thing can and cannot be, and to further this justification in its claim are for those who know and not-know, a seeming paradox bound within its own spontaneity, accounted by such as for no sensible person, not even Descartes, really doubts that external objects are plausibly in that respect. This is why modern philosophy became so entered on questions about knowledge: It is the Curse of Descartes?
In the second meditation, Descartes wants to begin building up knowledge from the wreckage of the first meditation. This means starting from nothing. Such an idea of building up knowledge from nothing is called Foundationalism and is one of the mistakes that Descartes makes. Descartes does not and cannot simply start from nothing. Nevertheless, he gets off to a pretty good start: he decides that he cannot be deceived about his own existence, because if he didn't exist, he wouldn't be around to worry about it. If he didn't exist, he wouldn't be thinking; so if he is thinking, he must exist. This is usually stated in Latin: Cogito ergo sum, "I think therefore I am." That might be the most famous statement in the history of philosophy, although it does not seem to occur in that form in the Meditations.
But there is more to it than just Descartes' argument for his own existence. Thinking comes first, and for Descartes that is a real priority. The title of the second meditation actually says, "the mind is better known than the body," and the Cogito ergo sum makes Descartes believe, not just that he has proven his existence, but that he has proven his existence as a thinking substance, a mind, leaving the body as some foreign thing to worry about later. That does not really follow, but Descartes clearly thinks that it does and consequently doesn't otherwise provide any special separate proof for the existence of the soul. In the end Descartes will believe that there are two fundamental substances in the world, souls and matter. The essence of soul for him, the attribute that makes a soul what is it, is thinking. The essence of matter for him (given to us in the fifth meditation), the attribute that makes matter what is it, is extension, i.e., that matter takes up space. This is known as Cartesian Dualism, which there are two kinds of things. It is something else that people have thought funny or absurd since Descartes. The greater of difficulty came with its own principle of verification, and will always implicate upon the thesis of how are souls and their bodies made of matter, interactual or communicative communication is left with one another. In Descartes' own physics, forces are transferred by contact, but the soul, which is unextended and so has no surface (only matter has extension), cannot contact the body because there is no surface to press with. The body cannot even hold the soul within it, since the soul has nothing to press upon to carry it along with the body. Problems like this occur whenever the body and soul are regarded as fundamentally different kinds of realities.
Today it might seem easy to say that the body and soul communicate by passing energy back and forth, which doesn't require contact, or even their close proximities, all for which is the presence of real energy in the soul that would make it plausibly detectable in this field of study, any kind of energy produces some heat (toward which all energy migrates as it becomes more random, i.e., as energy obeys the laws of the conservation of energy and of entropy), and heat or the radiation it produces (all heat produces electromagnetic radiation) can be detected. But, usually, a theory of the soul wants it to be some kind of thing that cannot be detected in a laboratory--in great measure because souls have not been detected in a laboratory.
Nevertheless, Descartes' problem is not just a confusion or a superstition. Our existence really does seem different from the inside than from the outside. From the inside there is consciousness, experience, colours, music, memories, etc. From the outside there is just the brain: gray goo. How do those two go together? That is the enduring question from Descartes: The Mind-Body Problem. As with the Problem of Knowledge, there is no consensus on a satisfactory answer. To ignore consciousness, as happens in Behaviourism, or to dismiss consciousness as something that is merely a transient state of the material brain, is a kind of reductionism, i.e., to say the one thing is just a state or function of another even though they may seem fundamentally different and there may be no-good reason why we should regard that one thing as more real and the other less so. Much of the talk about the Mind-Body Problem in the 20th century has been reductionistic, starting with Gilbert Ryle's Concept of Mind, which said that "mind is to body as kick is to leg." A kick certainly doesn't have much reality apart from a leg, but that really doesn't capture the relationship of consciousness to the body or to the brain. When the leg is kicking, we see the leg. But when the brain is "minding," we don't see the brain, and the body itself is only represented within consciousness. Internally, there is no reason to believe the mind is even in the brain. Aristotle and the Egyptians thought that consciousness was in the heart. In the middle of dreaming or hallucinations, we might not be aware of our bodies at all.
At the end of the second mediation Descartes may reasonably be said to have proven his own existence, but the existence of the body or of any other external objects is left hanging. If nothing further can be proven, then each of us is threatened with the possibility that I am the only thing that exists. This is called solipsism, from Latin solus, "alone" (sole), and ipse, "self." Solipsism is not argued, advocated, or even mentioned by Descartes, but it is associated with him because both he and everyone after him have so much trouble proving that something else does exist.
The third meditation is Descartes' next step in trying to restore the common sense limits of knowledge. Even though he is ultimately aiming to show that external objects and the body exist, he is not able to go at that directly. Instead the third meditation is where Descartes attempts to prove the existence of God. This is surprising, since the existence of objects seems much more obvious than the existence of God but Descartes, working with his mathematician's frame of mind, thinks that a pure rational proof of something he can't see is better than no proof of something he can.
Descartes' proof for God is not original. It is a kind of argument called the Ontological Argument (named that by Immanuel Kant, 1724-1804). It is called "ontological" because it is based on an idea about the nature of God's existence: that God is a necessary being, i.e., it is impossible for him not to exist. We and everything else in the universe, on the other hand, are contingent beings; it is possible for us not to exist, and in the past (and possibly in the future) we have indeed not existed. But if God is a necessary being, then there must be something about his nature that necessitates his existence. Reflecting on this, a mediaeval Archbishop of Canterbury, St. Anselm (1093-1109), decided that all we needed to prove the existence of God was the proper definition of God. With such a definition we could understand how God's nature necessitates his existence. The definition Anselm proposed was: God is that than which no greater can be conceived. The argument then follows: If we conceive of a non-existing God, we must always ask, "Can something greater than this be conceived?" The answer will clearly be "Yes"; for an existing God would be greater than a non-existing God. Therefore, we can only conceive of God as existing; so God exists.
This simple argument has mostly not found general favour. The definitive criticism was given by St. Thomas Aquinas (who otherwise thought that there were many ways to prove the existence of God): things cannot be "conceived" into existence. Defining a concept is one thing, proving that the thing exists is another. The principle involved is that, "Existence is not a predicate,” i.e., existence is not like other attributes or qualities that are included in definitions. Existence is not part of the meaning of anything. Most modern philosophers have agreed with this, but every so often there is an oddball who is captivated by Anselm. Descartes was such an oddball.
Descartes' argument for God is not even as good as Anselm's. It runs something like this: (A) I have in my mind an idea of perfection. (B) Degrees of perfection correspond to degrees of reality. ©) Every idea I have must have been caused by something that is at least as real [in objective reality, what Descartes calls "formal reality"] as what it is that the idea represents [in the subjective reality of my mind, what Descartes confusingly calls "objective reality"]. (D) Therefore, every idea I have must have been caused by something that is at least as perfect as what it is that the idea represents. (E) Therefore, my idea of perfection must have been caused by the perfect thing. (F) Therefore, the perfect thing exists. (G) By definition, the perfect thing is God. (H) Therefore, God exists.
Here Descartes uses "perfection" instead of Anselm's "greatness." The difficulties with the argument are, first, that the second premise is most questionable. Most Greek philosophers starting with Parmenides would have said that either something exists or it doesn't. "Degrees" of reality is a much later, in fact Neoplatonic, idea. The second problem is that the third premise is convoluted and fishy in the extreme. It means that Descartes is forced into arguing that our idea of infinity must have been caused by an infinite thing, since an infinite thing is more real than us or anything in us. But it seems obvious enough that our idea of infinity is simply the negation of finitude: the non-finite. The best that Descartes can ever do in justifying these two premises is arguing that he can conceive them "clearly and distinctly" or "by the light of nature." "Clear and distinct ideas," are how Descartes claims something is self-evident, and something is self-evident if we know it to be true just by understanding it's meaning. That is very shaky ground in Descartes' system, for we must always be cautious about things that the Deceiving Demon could deceive us into believing. The only guarantee we have that our clear and distinct ideas are in fact true and reliable is that God would not deceive us about them. But then the existence of God is to be proven just in order that we can prove God reliable. Assuming the reliability of clear and distinct ideas so as to prove that God is reliable, so as to prove that clear and distinct ideas are reliable, makes for a logically circular argument: we assume what we wish to prove.
Descartes' argument for God violates both logic and his own method. In sweeping away the junk of history through methodical doubt, Descartes wasn't supposed to use anything from the past without justifying it. He is already violating that in the second mediation just by using concepts like "substance" and "essence," which are technical philosophical terms that Descartes has not made up himself. In the third meditation Descartes' use of the history of philosophy explodes out of control: technical terminology ("formal cause," etc.) flies thick and fast, the argument itself is inspired by Anselm, and the whole process is very far from the foundational program of starting from nothing. All by itself, it looks like a good proof of how philosophy cannot start over from anything.
With the existence of God, presumably, proven, Descartes wraps things up in the sixth meditation: if God is the perfect thing, then he would not deceive us. That wouldn't be perfect. On the other hand, when it comes to our perceptions, God has set this all up and given us a very strong sense that all these things that we see are there. So, if God is no deceiver, these things really must be there. Therefore, external objects ("corporeal things") exist. Simple enough, but fatally flawed if the argument for the existence of God is itself defective.
In the fourth and fifth meditations Descartes does some tidying up. In the fourth he worries why there can be falsehood if God is reliable. The answer is that if we stuck to our clear and distinct ideas, there would be no falsehood; but our ambitions leap beyond those limits, so falsehood exists and is our own fault. Descartes does come to believe that all our clear and distinct ideas are innate: they are packed into the soul on its creation, like a box lunch. Most important is the idea of perfection, or the idea of God, itself, which is then rather like God's hallmark on the soul. Once we notice that idea, then life, the universe, and everything falls into place. Thus, Descartes eventually decides that the existence of God is better known to him than his own existence, even though he was certain about the latter first.
The fifth meditation says it is about the "essence" of material things. That is especially interesting since Descartes supposedly doesn't know yet whether material things existed. It's like, even if they don't exist, he knows what they are. That is Descartes the mathematician speaking. Through mathematics, especially geometry, he knows what matter is like-extended, etc. He even knows that a vacuum is impossible: extended space is the same thing as material substance. This is the kind of thing that makes Descartes look very foolish as a scientist. But the important point, again, is not that Descartes is unscientific, but that he chose to rely too heavily on the role of mathematics in the nova scientia that Galileo had recently inaugurated. Others, like Francis Bacon (1561-1626), had relied too heavily on the role of observation in explaining the new knowledge. Bacon wasn't a scientist, or a mathematician, at all. Descartes was. It really would not be until our own time that some understanding would begin to emerge of the interaction and interdependency between theory and observation, mathematics and experience in modern science. Even now the greatest mathematicians (e.g., Kurt Gödel, 1906-1978) tend to be kinds of Platonises at heart.
Notwithstanding, for being defeated in two wars, Germany appeared to have invaded vast territories of the world’s mind, with Nietzsche himself as no mean conqueror. For his was the vision of things to come. Much, too much, would strike him as déjà vu: Yes, he had foreseen it, and he would understand, for the ‘Modern Mind’ speaks German, not always good German, but fluent German nonetheless, it was, only forced by learning the idiom of Karl Marx, and was delighted to be introduced to itself in the language of Sigmund Freud’ taught by Rank and later Max Weber, It acquired its historical and sociological self-consciousness, moved out of its tidy Newtonian universe on the instruction of Einstein, and followed a design of Oswald Spengler’s in sending, from the depth of its spiritual depression, most ingeniously engineered objects higher than the moon. Whether it discovers, with Heidegger, the true habitation of its Existenza on the frontier boundaries of Nothing, or mediates, with Sartre and Camus le Néant or the Absurd, whether - to pass to its less serous moods - it is nihilistically young and profitably angry in London or rebelliously debauched and Buddhistic in San Francisco - it is part of a story told by Nietzsche.
As for modern German literature and thought, it is hardly an exaggeration to say that they would not be what they are if Nietzsche had never lived. Name almost any poet, man of letters, philosopher, who wrote in German during the twentieth century and attained to stature and influence - Rilke, George, Kafka, Tomas Mann, Ernst Jünger, Musil, Benn, Heidegger, or Jaspers - and you name at the same time Friedrick Nietzsche. He is too, them all - whether or not they know and acknowledge it (most of them do) - what St. Thomas Aquinas was to Dante: The categorical interpreter of a world that they contemplate poetically or philosophically without ever radically upsetting its Nietzschean structure.
He was convinced that it would take at least fifty years before a few men would understand what he had accomplished. He feared that even then his teaching would be misinterpreted and misapplied. “I am terrified,” he wrote, “by the thought of the sort of people who may one day invoke my authority.” Yet is this not, he added, the anguish of every great teacher? Still, the conviction that he was a great teacher never left him after he had passed through that period of sustained inspiration in which he wrote the first part of Zarathustra. After this, all his utterances convey the disquieting self-confidence and the terror of a man who has reached the culmination of that paradox that he embodies, and whichever has since cast its dangerous spell over some of the finest and some of the coarsest minds.
Are we then, in a better position to probe Nietzsche’s mind and too avid, as he anticipated some might, the misunderstanding that he was merely concerned with religious, philosophical, or political controversies fashionable in his day? If this is a misinterpretation, can we put anything more valid in its place? What is the knowledge that he claims to have, raising him in his own opinion far above the contemporary level of thought? What the discovery that serves him as a lever to unhinge the whole fabric of traditional values?
It is the knowledge that God is dead.
The death of God he calls the greatest event in modern history and the cause of extreme danger. Its paradoxical place a value may be contained in these words. He never said that there was no God, but that the External had been vanquished by Time and that the immortal suffered death at the hands of mortals: “God is dead.” It is like a cry mingled of despair and triumph, reducing, by comparison, the whole story of atheism and agnosticism before and after him to the level of respectable mediocrity and making it sound like a collection of announcements by bankers who regret they are unable to invest in an unsafe proposition. Nietzsche, for the nineteenth century, brings to its perverse conclusion a line of religious thought and experience linked with the names of St. Paul, St. Augustine, Pascal, Kierkegaard, and Dostoevsky, minds for whom God has his clearly defined place, but to whom. He came in order to challenge their natural being, making demands that appeared absurd in the light of natural reason. These men are of the family of Jacob: Having wrestled with God for His blessing, they ever after limp through life with the framework of Nature incurably out of joint. Nietzsche too believed that he prevailed against God in that struggle, and won a new name for himself, the name of Zarathustra. However, the words he spoke on his mountain to the angel of the Lord? I will not let thee go, but thou curse me. Or, in words that Nietzsche did in fact speak: “I have on purpose devoted my life to exploring the whole contrast to a truly religious nature. I know the Devil and all his visions of God.
“God is dead” - this is the very core of Nietzsche’s spiritual existence, and what follows is despair and hope in a new greatness of man, visions of catastrophe and glory, the icy brilliance of analytical reason, fathoming with affected irreverence those depths through which are hidden of a ritual healer.
Perhaps by definition alone, comes the unswerving call of atheism, by this is the denial of or lack of belief in the existence of a god or gods. The term atheism comes from the Greek prefix ‘a-‘, meaning “without,” and the Greek word ‘theos’, meaning “deity.” The denial of gods’ existence is also known as strong, or positive, atheism, whereas the lack of belief in a god is known as negative, or weak, atheism. Although atheism is often contrasted with agnosticism - the view that we cannot know whether a deity exists or not and should therefore suspend belief - negative atheism is in fact compatible with agnosticism.
About one-third of the world’s population adheres to a form of Christianity. Latin America has the largest number of Christians, most of whom are Roman Catholics. Islam is practised by over one-fifth of the world’s population, most of whom live in parts of Asia, particularly the Middle East.
Atheism has wide-ranging implications for the human condition. In the rendering absence to belief in a god, as, too, ethical goals must be determined by secular and nonreligious aims of concern, human beings must take full responsibility for their destiny, and death marks the end of a person’s existence. As of 1994 there were an estimated 240 million atheists around the world comprising slightly more than 4 percent of the world’s population, including those who profess atheism, skepticism, disbelief, or irreligion. The estimate of nonbelievers increases significantly, to about 21 percent of the world’s population, if negative atheists are included.
From ancient times, people have at times used atheism as a term of abuse for religious positions they opposed. The first Christians were called atheists because they denied the existence of the Roman deities. Over time, several misunderstandings of atheism have arisen: That atheists are immoral, that morality cannot be justified without belief in God, and that life has no purpose without belief in God. Yet there is no evidence that atheists are any less moral than believers. Many systems of morality have been developed that do not presuppose the existence of a supernatural being. Moreover, the purpose of human life may be based on secular goals, such as the betterment of humankind.
In Western society the term atheism has been used more narrowly to refer to the denial of theism, in particular Judeo-Christian theism, which asserts the existence of an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good personal being. This being created the universe, took an active interest in human concerns, and guides his creatures through divine disclosure known as revelation. Positive atheists reject this theistic God and the associated beliefs in an afterlife, a cosmic destiny, a supernatural origin of the universe, an immortal soul, the revealed nature of the Bible and the Qur'an (Koran), and a religious foundation for morality.
Theism, however, is not a characteristic of all religions. Some religions reject theism but are not entirely atheistic. Although the theistic tradition is fully developed in the Bhagavad-Gita, the sacred text of Hinduism, earlier Hindu writings known as the Upanishads teach that Brahman (ultimate reality) is impersonal. Positive atheists reject even the pantheistic aspects of Hinduism that equate God with the universe. Several other Eastern religions, including Theravada Buddhism and Jainism, are commonly believed to be atheistic, but this interpretation is not strictly correct. These religions do reject a theistic God believed to have created the universe, but they accept numerous lesser gods. At most, such religions are atheistic in the narrow sense of rejecting theism.
One of the most controversial works of 19th-century philosophy, Thus Spake Zarathustra 1883-1885, articulated German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s theory of the Übermensch, a term translated as “Superman” or “Overman.” The Superman was an individual who overcame what Nietzsche termed the “slave morality” of traditional values, and lived according to his own morality. Nietzsche also advanced his idea that “God is dead,” or that traditional morality was no longer relevant in people’s lives. In this passage, the sage Zarathustra came down from the mountain where he had spent the last ten years alone to preach to the people.
In the Western intellectual world, nonbelief in the existence of God is a widespread phenomenon with a long and distinguished history. Philosophers of the ancient world such as Lucretius were nonbelievers. Even in the Middle Ages (5th to 15th centuries) there were currents of thought that questioned theist assumptions, including skepticism, the doctrine that true knowledge is impossible, and naturalism, the belief that only natural forces control the world. Several leading thinkers of the Enlightenment (1700-1789) were professed atheists, including Danish writer Baron Holbach and French encyclopedist Denis Diderot. Expressions of nonbelief also are found in classics of Western literature, including the writings of English poets Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, the English novelist Thomas Hardy, including French philosophers’ Voltaire and Jean-Paul Sartre, the Russian author Ivan Turgenev, and the American writers’ Mark Twain and Upton Sinclair. In the 19th century the most articulate and best-known atheists and critics of religion were German philosophers’ Ludwig Feuerbach, Karl Marx, Arthur Schopenhauer, and Friedrich Nietzsche. British philosopher Bertrand Russell, Austrian psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud, and Sartre are among the 20th century’s most influential atheists.
Nineteenth-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was an influential critic of religious systems, especially Christianity, for which he felt chained to the thickening herd morality. By declaring that “God is dead,” Nietzsche signified that traditional religious belief in God no longer played a central role in human experience. Nietzsche believed we would have to find secular justifications for morality to avoid nihilism - the absence of all belief.
Atheists justify their philosophical position in several different ways. Negative atheists attempt to establish their position by refuting typical theist arguments for the existence of God, such as the argument from first cause, the argument from design, the ontological argument, and the argument from religious experience. Other negative atheists assert that any statement about God is meaningless, because attributes such as all-knowing and all-powerful cannot be comprehended by the human mind. Positive atheists, on the other hand, defend their position by arguing that the concept of God is inconsistent. They question, for example, whether a God who is all-knowing can also be all-good and how a God who lacks bodily existence can be all-knowing.
Some positive atheists have maintained that the existence of evil makes the existence of God improbable. In particular, atheists assert that theism does not provide an adequate explanation for the existence of seemingly gratuitous evil, such as the suffering of innocent children. Theists commonly defend the existence of evil by claiming that God desires that human beings have the freedom to choose between good and evil, or that the purpose of evil is to build human character, such as the ability to persevere. Positive atheists counter that justifications for evil in terms of human free will leave unexplained why, for example, children suffer because of genetic diseases or abuse from adults. Arguments that God allows pain and suffering to build human character fail, in turn, to explain why there was suffering among animals before human beings evolved and why human character could not be developed with less suffering than occurs in the world. For atheists, a better explanation for the presence of evil in the world is that God does not exist.
Atheists have also criticized historical evidence used to support belief in the major theistic religions. For example, atheists have argued that a lack of evidence casts doubt on important doctrines of Christianity, such as the virgin birth and the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Because such events are said to represent miracles, atheists assert that extremely strong evidence is necessary to support their occurrence. According to atheists, the available evidence to support these alleged miracles - from Biblical, pagan, and Jewish sources - is weak, and therefore such claims should be rejected.
Atheism is primarily a reaction to, or a rejection of, religious belief, and thus does not determine other philosophical beliefs. Atheism has sometimes been associated with the philosophical ideas of materialism, which holds that only matter exists. Communism, which asserts that religion impedes human progress, and rationalism, which emphasizes analytic reasoning over other sources of knowledge. However, there is no necessary connection between atheism and these positions. Some atheists have opposed communism and some have rejected materialism. Although nearly all contemporary materialists are atheists, the ancient Greek materialist Epicurus believed the gods were made of matter in the form of atoms. Rationalists such as French philosopher René Descartes have believed in God, whereas atheists such as Sartre are not considered to be rationalists. Atheism has also been associated with systems of thought that reject authority, such as anarchism, a political theory opposed to all forms of government, and existentialism, a philosophic movement that emphasizes absolute human freedom of choice; there is however no necessary connection between atheism and these positions. British analytic philosopher A.J. Ayer was an atheist who opposed existentialism, while Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard was an existentialist who accepted God. Marx was an atheist who rejected anarchism while Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy, a Christian, embraced anarchism. Because atheism in a strict sense is merely a negation, it does not provide a comprehensive world-view. Presuming other philosophical positions to be outgrowths of atheism is therefore not possible.
Intellectual debate over the existence of God continues to be active, especially on college campuses, in religious discussion groups, and in electronic forums on the Internet. In contemporary philosophical thought, atheism has been defended by British philosopher Antony Flew, Australian philosopher John Mackie, and American philosopher Michael Martin, among others. Leading organizations of unbelief in the United States include The American Atheists, The Committee for the Scientific Study of Religion.
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), German philosopher, poet, and classical philologist, who was one of the most provocative and influential thinkers of the 19th century. Nietzsche founded his morality on what he saw as the most basic human drive, the will to power. Nietzsche criticized Christianity and other philosophers’ moral systems as “slave moralities” because, in his view, they chained all members of society with universal rules of ethics. Nietzsche offered, in contrast, a “master morality” that prized the creative influence of powerful individuals who transcended the common rules of society.
Nietzsche studied classical philology at the universities of Bonn and Leipzig and was appointed the professor of classical philology at the University of Basel at the age of 24. Ill health (he was plagued throughout his life by poor eyesight and migraine headaches) forced his retirement in 1879. Ten years later he suffered a mental breakdown from which he never recovered. He died in Weimar in 1900.
In addition to the influence of Greek culture, particularly the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, Nietzsche was influenced by German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, by the theory of evolution, and by his friendship with German composer Richard Wagner.
Nietzsche’s first major work, Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste de Musik (The Birth of Tragedy), appeared in 1872. His most prolific period as an author was the 1880s. During the decade he wrote, Also sprach Zarathustra (Parts one-3, 1883-1884; Part four-4, 1885, and translated to English as, Thus Spake Zarathustra), Jenseits von Gut und Böse, 1886, Beyond Good and Evil - Zur Genealogie de Moral, 1887, also, On the Genealogy of Morals, and the German, Der Antichrist 1888, the English translation, The Antichrist, and Ecce Homo, was completed 1888, and published 1908. Nietzsche’s last major work, The Will to Power, Der Wille zur Macht, was published in 1901.
One of Nietzsche’s fundamental contentions was that traditional value (represented primarily by Christianity) had lost their power in the lives of individuals. He expressed this in his proclamation “God is dead.” He was convinced that traditional values represented a “slave morality,” a morality created by weak and resentful individuals who encouraged such behaviour as gentleness and kindness because the behaviour served their interests. Nietzsche claimed that new values could be created to replace the traditional ones, and his discussion of the possibility led to his concept of the overman or superman.
According to Nietzsche, the masses (whom he termed the herd or mob) conform to tradition, whereas his ideal overman is secure, independent, and highly individualistic. The overman feels deeply, but his passions are rationally controlled. Concentrating on the real world, than on the rewards of the next world promised by religion, the overman affirms life, including the suffering and pain that accompany human existence. Nietzsche’s overman is a creator of values, a creator of its “master morality” that reflects the strength and independence of one who is liberated from all values, except those that he deems valid.
Nietzsche maintained that all human behaviour is motivated by the will to power. In its positive sense, the will to power is not simply power over others, but the power over one’s self that is necessary for creativity. Such power is manifested in the overman's independence, creativity, and originality. Although Nietzsche explicitly denied that any overmen had yet arisen, he mentions several individuals who could serve as models. Among these models he lists Jesus, Greek philosopher Socrates, Florentine thinker Leonardo da Vinci, Italian artist Michelangelo, English playwright William Shakespeare, German author Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Roman ruler Julius Caesar, and French emperor Napoleon I.
The concept of the overman has often been interpreted as one that postulates a master-slave society and has been identified with totalitarian philosophies. Many scholars deny the connection and attribute it to misinterpretation of Nietzsche's work.
An acclaimed poet, Nietzsche exerted much influence on German literature, as well as on French literature and theology. His concepts have been discussed and elaborated upon by such individuals as German philosophers Karl Jaspers and Martin Heidegger, and German Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, German American theologian Paul Tillich, and French writers’ Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre. After World War II (1939-1945), American theologians’ Thomas J.J. Altizer and Paul Van Buren seized upon Nietzsche's proclamation “God is dead” in their attempt to make Christianity relevant to its believers in the 1960s and 1970s.
Nietzsche is openly pessimistic about the possibility of knowledge, for truth: we know (or, believe or imagine) just as much as may be useful in the interests of the human herd, the species: and even what is here called ‘utility’, is ultimately also a mere belief, something imaginary and perhaps precisely that most calamitous stupidity of which we shall perish some day.
This position is very radical. Nietzsche does not simply deny that knowledge, construed as the adequate representation of the world by the intellect, exists. He also refuses the pragmatist identification of knowledge and truth with usefulness: he writes that we think we know what we think is useful, and that we can be quite wrong about the latter.
Nietzsche’s view, his ‘perspectivism’, depends on his claim that there is no sensible conception of a world independent of human interpretation and to which interpretations would correspond if they were to constitute knowledge. He sums up this highly controversial position in The Will to Power: Facts are precisely what there is not, only interpretation.
It is often claimed that perspectivism is self-undermining, if the thesis that all views are interpretations is true then, it is argued, there is at least one view that is not an interpretation. If, on the other hand, the thesis is itself an interpretation, then there is no reason to believe that it is true, and it follows again, that not every view is an interpretation.
Nevertheless, this refutation assumes that if a view of perspectivism itself, is an interpretation that it is wrong. This is not the case, to call any view, including perspectivism. An interpretation is to say that it can be wrong, which is true of all views, and that is not a sufficient refutation. To show the perspectivism is actually false producing another view superior to it on specific epistemological grounds is necessary.
Perspectivism does not deny that particular views can be true. Like some versions of contemporary anti-realism, only by its attributes to specific approaches’ truth in relation to facts specified internally by the approaches themselves. Nonetheless, it refuses to envisage a single independent set of facts, to be accounted for by all theories. Thus Nietzsche grants the truth of specific scientific theories, he does, nevertheless, deny that a scientific interpretation can possibly be ‘the only justifiable interpretation of the world’, neither the fact’s science addresses nor the methods it employs are privileged. Scientific theories serve the purpose for which they have been devised, but these have no priority over the many other purposes of human life.
The existence of many purposes and needs relative to which the value of theories is established - another crucial element of perspectivism - is sometimes thought to imply a lawless relativism. According to which no standards for evaluating purposes and theories can be devised. This is correct only in that Nietzsche denies the existence of a single set of standards for determining epistemic value once and for all. However, he holds that specific views can be compared with and evaluated in relation to one another. The ability to use criteria acceptable in particular circumstances does not presuppose the existence of criteria applicable in all. Agreement is therefore, not always possible, since individuals may sometimes differ over the most fundamental issues dividing them.
Least of mention, Nietzsche would not be troubled by this fact, which his opponents too also have to confront only, as he would argue, to suppress it by insisting on the hope that all disagreements are in principal eliminable even if our practice falls woefully short of the ideal. Nietzsche abandons that ideal. He considers irresoluble disagreement an essential parts of human life.
Since, scientists during the nineteenth century were preoccupied with uncovering the workings of external reality and virtually nothing was known about the physical substrate is of human consciousness, the business of examining the dynamics and structure of mind became the province of ‘social scientists’ and ‘humanists’. Adolphe Quételet proposed a social physics’ that could serve as the basis for a new discipline called sociology, and his contemporary Auguste Comte concluded that a true scientific understanding of the social reality was quite inevitable. Mind, in the view of these figures, was a separate and distinct mechanism subject to the lawful workings of a mechanistic social reality.
More formal European philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant, sought to reconcile representations of external reality in mind with the motions of matter based on the dictates of pure reason. This impulse was also apparent in the utilitarian ethics of Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill, in the historical materialist of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, and in the pragmatism of Charles Smith, William James, and John Dewey. All these thinkers were painfully aware, however, of the inability of reason to posit a self-consistent basis for bridging the gap between mind and matter, and each was obligated to conclude that the realm of the mental exists only in the subjective reality of the individual.
The fatal flaw of pure reason is, of course, the absence of emotion, and purely rational explanations of the division between subjective reality and external reality had limited appeal outside the community of intellectuals, the figure most responsible for infusing our understanding of Cartesian dualism with emotional content was the death of God theologian Friedrich Nietzsche. After declaring that God and ‘divine will’, did not exist, Nietzsche reified the ‘existence’ of consciousness in the domain of subjectivity as the ground for individual ‘will’ and summarily dismissed all previous philosophical attempts to articulate the ‘will to truth’. The problem, claimed Nietzsche, is that linear versions of the ‘will to truth’ disguise the fact that all alleged truths were arbitrarily created in the subjective reality of the individual and are expressions or manifestations of individual ‘will’.
Nietzsche’s emotionally charged defence of intellectual freedom and his radical empowerment of mind as the maker and transformer of the collective fictions that shape human reality in a soulless mechanistic universe proved terribly influential on twentieth-century thought. Nietzsche sought to reinforce his view of the subjective character of scientific knowledge and arithmetic that arose during the last three decades of the nineteenth century. Though a curious course of events, attempts by Edmund Husserl, a philosopher trained in higher math and physics, to resolve this crisis results in a view of the character of human consciousness that closely resembled that of Nietzsche.
The best-known disciple of Husserl was Martin Heidegger, and the work of both figures greatly influenced that of the French atheistic existenualist Jean-Paul Sartre. The work of Husserl, Heidegger, and Sartre became foundational to that of the principal architects of philosophical postmodernism, the deconstructionalists Jacques Lacan, Roland Barthes, Michel Foucault, and Jacques Derrida, this direct line found linkage between the nineteenth-century crisis about the epistemological foundations of mathematical physics and the origins of philosophical postmodernism served to perpetuate the Cartesian two world dilemma, in, an even, or oppressive form.
Philosophers like John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, and David Hume tried to articulate some basis for liking the mathematical describable motions of matter with linguistic representations of external reality in the subjective space of mind. Descartes’ compatriot Jean-Jacques Rousseau reified nature as the ground of human consciousness in a state of innocence and proclaimed that ‘Liberty, Equality, Fraternity’ is the guiding principles of this consciousness. Rousseau also made god-like the idea of the ‘general will’ of the people to achieve these goals and declared that those who do not conform to this will were social deviants.
The Enlightenment idea of deism, which imagined the universe as a clockwork and God as the clockmaker, provided grounds for believing in a divine agency lay the moment of creation. It also implied, however, that all the creative forces of the universe were exhausted at origins, that the physical substrates of mind were subject to the same natural laws as matter, and that the only means of mediating the gap between mind and matter was pure reason. Traditional Judeo-Christian theism, which had previously been based on both reason and revelation, responded to the challenge of deism by debasing rationality as a test of faith and embracing the idea that the truth of spiritual reality can be known only through divine revelation. This engendered a conflict between reason and revelation that persists to this day. And it also laid the fundamental for the fierce competition between the mega-narratives of science and religion as frame tale s for mediating the character of each should be ultimately defined.
The most fundamental aspect of intellectual tradition is the assumption that there is a fundamental division between the material and the immaterial world or between the realm of matter and the realm of pure mind and spirit. The metaphysical framework based on this assumption known as ontological dualism. As the word dual implies, the framework is predicated on an ontology, or a conception of the nature of God or Being, that assumes reality has two distinct and separable dimensions. The concept of Being as continuous, immutable, and having a prior or separate existence from the world of change dates from the ancient Greek philosopher Parmenides. The same qualities were associated with the God of the Judeo-Christian tradition, and they were considerably amplified by the role played in the theology by Platonic and Neoplatonic philosophy.
The role of seventeenth-century metaphysics is also apparent in metaphysical presuppositions about matter described by classical enumerations of motion. These presuppositions can be briefly defined as follows: (1) The physical world is made up of inert and changeless matter, and this matter changed only in terms of location in space, (2) the behaviour of matter mirrors physical theory and is inherently mathematical, (3) matter as the unchanging unit of physical reality can be exhaustively understood by mechanics, or by the applied mathematics of motion, and (4) the mind of the observer is separate from the observed system of matter, and the ontological bridge between the two physical law and theory.
Once, again, these presuppositions have a metaphysical basis because they are required to assume the following, - that the full and certain truths about the physical world are revealed in a mathematical structure governed by physical laws, which have a prior or separate existence from this world. While Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Descartes, and Newton assumed that metaphysics or ontological foundation for these laws was the perfect mind of God, the idea was increasingly regarded, even in the eighteenth century, as somewhat unnecessary, what would endure in an increasingly disguised form was the assumption of ontological dualism. This assumption, which remains alive and well in the debates about scientific epistemology, allowed the truths of mathematical physics to be regarded as having a separate and immutable existence outside the world of change.
As this view of hypotheses and the truths of nature as qualities were extended in the nineteenth century to a mathematical description of phenomena like heat, light, electricity, an magnetism, LaPlaces’ assumptions about the actual character of scientific truths seemed quite correct, this progress suggested that if we could remove all thoughts about the ‘nature of’ or the ‘source of’ phenomena, the pursuit of strictly quantitative concepts would bring us to a complete description of all aspects of physical reality. Subsequently, figures like Combe, Kirchhoff. Hertz, and Poincaré developed a program for the study of nature that was quite different from that of the original creators of classical physics.
The seventeenth-century view of physics as a philosophy of nature or a natural philosophy was displaced by the view of physics as an autonomous science that was ‘the science of nature’. This view, which was premised on the doctrine of positivism, promised to subsume all of the nature with a mathematical analysis of entities in motion and claimed that the true understanding of nature was revealed only in the unmathematical descriptions. Since the doctrine of positivism, assumes that knowledge we call physics resides only in the mathematical formalism of physical theory, it disallows the prospect that the vision of physical reality reveals in physical theory can have any other meaning. In the history of science, the irony is that positivism, which was intended to banish metaphysical concerns from the domain of science, served to perpetuate a seventeenth-century metaphysical assumption about the relationship between physical reality and physical theory.
Kant was to argue that the earlier assumption that our knowledge has the world is a mathematical physics and is wholly determined by the behaviour of physical reality could well be false. Perhaps, he said that the reverse was true - that the objects of nature conform to our knowledge of nature. The relevance of the Kantian position was later affirmed by the leader of the Berlin school of mathematics, Karl Weierstrass, who came to a conclusion that would also be adopted by Einstein - that mathematics is a pure creation of the human mind.
A complete history of the debate over the epistemological foundation of mathematical physics should probably begin with the discovery of irrational numbers by the followers of Pythagoras, the paradoxes of Zeno and Gottfried Leibniz. But since we are more concerned with the epistemological crisis of the late nineteenth century, let us begin with the set theory developed by the German mathematician and logician Georg Cantor. From 1878 to 1897, Cantor created a theory of abstract sets of entities that eventually became a mathematical discipline. A set, as he defined it, is a collection of definite and a distinguishable object in thought or perception conceived as a whole.
Cantor attempted to prove that the proceeds of counting and the definition of integers could be placed on a solid mathematical foundation. His method was repeatedly to place the elements in one set into ‘one-to-one’ correspondence with those in another. In the case of integers, Cantor showed that each integer (1, 2, 3, . . . n) could be paired with an even integer
(2, 4, 6, . . . n), and, therefore, that the set of all integers was equal to the set of all even numbers.
Formidably, Cantor discovered that some infinite sets were larger than others and that infinite sets formed a hierarchy of ever greater infinities. After this failing attempt to save the classical view of logical foundations and internal consistency of mathematical systems, it soon became obvious that a major crack had appeared in the seemingly solid foundations of number and mathematics. Meanwhile, an impressive number of mathematicians began to see that everything from functional analysis to the theory of real numbers depended on the problematic character of number itself.
In 1886, Nietzsche was delighted to learn the classical view of mathematics as a logical consistent and self-contained system that could prove it might be undermined. And his immediate and unwarranted conclusion was that all of logic and the whole of mathematics were nothing more than fictions perpetuated by those who exercised their will to power. With his characteristic sense of certainty, Nietzsche does precisely proclaim. “Without accepting the fictions of logic, without measuring reality against the purely invented world of the unconditional and self-identical, without a constant falsification of the world by means of numbers, man could not live.”
Many writers, along with a few well-known new-age gurus, have played fast and loosely with firm interpretations of some new but informal understanding grounded within the mental in some vague sense of cosmic consciousness. However, these new age nuances are ever so erroneously placed in the new-age section of a commercial bookstore and purchased by those interested in new-age literature, and they will be quite disappointed.
Research in neuroscience has shown that language processing is a staggering complex phenomenon that places incredible demands on memory and learning. Language functions extend, for example, into all major lobes of the neocortex: Auditory opinion is associated with the temporal area; tactile information is associated with the parietal area, and attention, working memory, and planning are associated with the frontal cortex of the left or dominant hemisphere. The left prefrontal region is associated with verb and noun production tasks and in the retrieval of words representing action. Broca’s area, next to the mouth-tongue region of a motor cortex, is associated with vocalization in word formation, and Wernicke’s area, by the auditory cortex, is associated with sound analysis in the sequencing of words.
Lower brain regions, like the cerebellum, have also evolved in our species to help in language processing. Until recently, the cerebellum was thought to be exclusively involved with automatic or preprogrammed movements such as throwing a ball, jumping over a high hurdle or playing noted orchestrations as on a musical instrument. Imaging studies in neuroscience suggest, however, that the cerebellum awaken within the smoldering embers brought aflame by the sparks of awakening consciousness, to think communicatively during the spoken exchange. Mostly actuated when the psychological subject occurs in making difficult the word associations that the cerebellum plays a role in associations by providing access to automatic word sequences and by augmenting rapid shifts in attention.
Critically important to the evolution of enhanced language skills are that behavioural adaptive adjustments that serve to precede and situate biological changes. This represents a reversal of the usual course of evolution where biological change precedes behavioural adaption. When the first hominids began to use stone tools, they probably rendered of a very haphazard fashion, by drawing on their flexible ape-like learning abilities. Still, the use of this technology over time opened a new ecological niche where selective pressures occasioned new adaptions. A tool use became more indispensable for obtaining food and organized social behaviours, mutations that enhanced the use of tools probably functioned as a principal source of selection for both bodied and brains.
The fist stone choppers appear in their fossil executions seem as the remnant fragments remaining about 2.5 million years ago, and they appear to have been fabricated with a few sharp blows of stone on stone. If these primitive tools are reasonable, which were hand-held and probably used to cut flesh and to chip bone to expose the marrow, were created by Homo habilis - the first large-brained hominid. Stone making is obviously a skill passed on from one generation to the next by learning as opposed to a physical trait passed on genetically. After these tools became critical to survival, this introduced selection for learning abilities that did not exist for other species. Although the early tool makers may have had brains roughly comparable to those of modern apes, they were already confronting the processes for being adapted for symbol learning.
The first symbolic representations were probably associated with social adaptations that were quite fragile, and any support that could reinforce these adaptions in the interest of survival would have been favoured by evolution. The expansion of the forebrain in Homo habilis, particularly the prefrontal cortex, was on of the core adaptations. This adaption was enhanced over time by increased connectivity to brain regions involved in language processing.
Imagining why incremental improvements in symbolic representations provided a selective advantage is easy. Symbolic communication probably enhanced cooperation in the relationship of mothers to infants, allowed forgoing techniques to be more easily learned, served as the basis for better coordinating scavenging and hunting activities, and generally improved the prospect of attracting a mate. As the list of domains in which symbolic communication was introduced became longer over time, this probably resulted in new selective pressures that served to make this communication more elaborate. After more functions became dependent on this communication, those who failed in symbol learning or could only use symbols awkwardly were less likely to pass on their genes to subsequent generations.
The crude language of the earliest users of symbolics must have been considerably gestured and nonsymbiotic vocalizations. Their spoken language probably became reactively independent and a closed cooperative system.
The general idea is very powerful, however, the relevance of spatiality to self-consciousness comes about not merely because the world is spatial but also because the self-conscious subject is a spatial element of the world. One cannot be self-conscious without being aware that one is a spatial element of the world, and one cannot be ware that one is a spatial element of the world without a grasp of the spatial nature of the world. Face to face, the idea of a perceivable, objective spatial world that causes ideas too subjectively becoming to denote in the world. During which time, his perceptions as they have of changing position within the world and to the more or less stable way the world is. The idea that there is an objective world and the idea that the subject is somewhere, and where he is given by what he can perceive.
Research, however distant, are those that neuroscience reveals in that the human brain is a massive parallel system which language processing is widely distributed. Computers generated images of human brains engaged in language processing reveals a hierarchal organization consisting of complicated clusters of brain areas that process different component functions in controlled time sequences. And it is now clear that language processing is not accomplished by stand-alone or unitary modules that evolved with the addition of separate modules that were eventually wired together on some neutral circuit board.
While the brain that evolved this capacity was obviously a product of Darwinian evolution, the most critical precondition for the evolution of this brain cannot be simply explained in these terms. Darwinian evolution can explain why the creation of stone tools altered conditions for survival in a new ecological niche in which group living, pair bonding, and more complex social structures were critical to survival. And Darwinian evolution can also explain why selective pressures in this new ecological niche favoured preadaptive changes required for symbolic communication. All the same, this communication resulted directly through its passing an increasingly atypically structural complex and intensively condensed behaviour. Social evolution began to take precedence over physical evolution in the sense that mutations resulting in enhanced social behaviour became selectively advantageously within the context of the social behaviour of hominids.
Because this communication was based on symbolic vocalization that required the evolution of neural mechanisms and processes that did not evolve in any other species. As this marked the emergence of a mental realm that would increasingly appear as separate and distinct from the external material realm.
If the emergent reality in this mental realm cannot be reduced to, or entirely explained as for, the sum of its parts, it seems reasonable to conclude that this reality is greater than the sum of its parts. For example, a complete proceeding of the manner in which light in particular wave lengths has ben advancing by the human brain to generate a particular colour says nothing about the experience of colour. In other words, a complete scientific description of all the mechanisms involved in processing the colour blue does not correspond with the colour blue as perceived in human consciousness. And no scientific description of the physical substrate of a thought or feeling, no matter how accomplish it can but be accounted for in actualized experience, especially of a thought or feeling, as an emergent aspect of global brain function.
If we could, for example, define all of the neural mechanisms involved in generating a particular word symbol, this would reveal nothing about the experience of the word symbol as an idea in human consciousness. Conversely, the experience of the word symbol as an idea would reveal nothing about the neuronal processes involved. And while one mode of understanding the situation necessarily displaces the other, both are required to achieve a complete understanding of the situation.
Even if we are to include two aspects of biological reality, finding to a more complex order in biological reality is associated with the emergence of new wholes that are greater than the orbital parts. Yet, the entire biosphere is of a whole that displays self-regulating behaviour that is greater than the sum of its parts. The emergence of a symbolic universe based on a complex language system could be viewed as another stage in the evolution of more complicated and complex systems. As marked and noted by the appearance of a new profound complementarity in relationships between parts and wholes. This does not allow us to assume that human consciousness was in any sense preordained or predestined by natural process. But it does make it possible, in philosophical terms at least, to argue that this consciousness is an emergent aspect of the self-organizing properties of biological life.
The scientific implications to the relationship between parts (Qualia) and indivisible whole (the universe) are quite staggering. Our primary concern, however, is a new view of the relationship between mind and world that carries even larger implications in human terms. When factors into our understanding of the relationship between parts and wholes in physics and biology, then mind, or human consciousness, must be viewed as an emergent phenomenon in a seamlessly interconnected whole called the cosmos.
All that is required to embrace the alternative view of the relationship between mind and world that are consistent with our most advanced scientific knowledge is a commitment to metaphysical and epistemological realism and a willingness to follow arguments to their logical conclusions. Metaphysical realism assumes that physical reality or has an actual existence independent of a human observer or any act of observation, epistemological realism assumes that progress in science requires strict adherence to scientific mythology, or to the rules and procedures for doing science. If one can accept these assumptions, most of the conclusions drawn should appear fairly self-evident in logical and philosophical terms. And it is also not necessary to attribute any extra-scientific properties to the whole to understand and embrace the new relationship between part and whole and the alternative view of human consciousness that is consistent with this relationship. This is, in this that our distinguishing character between what can be “proven” in scientific terms and what can be reasonably “inferred” in philosophical terms based on the scientific evidence.
Moreover, advances in scientific knowledge rapidly became the basis for the creation of a host of new technologies. Yet, those of which are responsible for evaluating the benefits and risks associated with the use of these technologies, much less their potential impact on human needs and values, normally had expertise on only one side of a two-culture divide. Perhaps, more important, many of the potential threats to the human future - such as, to, environmental pollution, arms development, overpopulation, and spread of infectious diseases, poverty, and starvation - can be effectively solved only by integrating scientific knowledge with knowledge from the social sciences and humanities. We have not done so for a simple reason - the implications of the confusing new fact of nature called non-locality cannot be properly understood without some familiarity wit the actual history of scientific thought. The intent is to suggest that what be most important about this back-ground can be understood in its absence. Those who do not wish to struggle with the small and perhaps, less, then there were fewer in amounts of back-ground implications should feel free to ignore it. But this material will be no more challenging as such, that the hope is that from those of which will find a common ground for understanding and that will meet again on this commonly functions in an effort to close of its circle, resolve the equations of eternity and complete the universe made obtainable to gain into the profound mysteriousness through which its unification holds itself there-within.
Based on what we now know about the evolution of human language abilities, however, it seems clear that our real or actualized self is not imprisoned in our minds. It is implicitly a part of the larger whole of biological life, human observers its existence from embedded relations to this whole, and constructs its reality as based on evolved mechanisms that exist in all human brains. This suggests that any sense of the “otherness” of self and world be is an illusion, in that disguises of its own actualization are to find all its relations between the part that are of their own characterization. Its self as related to the temporality of being whole is that of a biological reality. It can be viewed, of course, that a proper definition of this whole must not include the evolution of the larger undissectible whole. Yet, the cosmos and unbroken evolution of all life, by that of the first self-replication molecule that was the ancestor of DNA. It should include the complex interactions that have proven that among all the parts in biological reality that any resultant of emerging is self-regulating. This, of course, is responsible to properties owing to the whole of what might be to sustain the existence of the parts.
Founded on complications and complex coordinate systems in ordinary language may be conditioned as to establish some developments have been descriptively made by its physical reality and metaphysical concerns. That is, that it is in the history of mathematics and that the exchanges between the mega-narratives and frame tales of religion and science were critical factors in the minds of those who contributed. The first scientific revolution of the seventeenth century, allowed scientists to better them in the understudy of how the classical paradigm in physical reality has marked results in the stark Cartesian division between mind and world that became one of the most characteristic features of Western thought. This is not, however, another strident and ill-mannered diatribe against our misunderstandings, but drawn upon equivalent self realization and undivided wholeness or predicted characterlogic principles of physical reality and the epistemological foundations of physical theory.
Scientific knowledge is an extension of ordinary language into greater levels of abstraction and precision through reliance upon geometry and numerical relationships. We imagine that the seeds of the scientific imagination were planted in ancient Greece. This, of course, opposes any other option but to speculate some displacement afar from the Chinese or Babylonian cultures. Partly because the social, political, and economic climates in Greece were more open in the pursuit of knowledge along with greater margins that reflect upon cultural accessibility. Another important factor was that the special character of Homeric religion allowed the Greeks to invent a conceptual framework that would prove useful in future scientific investigations. But it was only after this inheritance from Greek philosophy was wedded to some essential feature of Judeo-Christian beliefs about the origin of the cosmos that the paradigm for classical physics emerged.
The Greek philosophers we now recognized as the originator’s scientific thoughts were oraclically mystic who probably perceived their world as replete with spiritual agencies and forces. The Greek religious heritage made it possible for these thinkers to attempt to coordinate diverse physical events within a framework of immaterial and unifying ideas. The fundamental assumption that there is a pervasive, underlying substance out of which everything emerges and into which everything returns are attributed to Thales of Miletos. Thales had apparently transcended to this conclusion out of the belief that the world was full of gods, and his unifying substance, water, was similarly charged with spiritual presence. Religion in this instance served the interests of science because it allowed the Greek philosophers to view “essences” underlying and unifying physical reality as if they were “substances.”
The history of science grandly testifies to the manner in which scientific objectivity results in physical theories that must be assimilated into “customary points of view and forms of perception.” The framers of classical physics derived, like the rest of us there, “customary points of view and forms of perception” from macro-level visualized experience. Thus, the descriptive apparatus of visualizable experience became reflected in the classical descriptive categories.
A major discontinuity appears, however, as we moved from descriptive apparatus dominated by the character of our visualizable experience to a complete description of physical reality in relativistic and quantum physics. The actual character of physical reality in modern physics lies largely outside the range of visualizable experience. Einstein, was acutely aware of this discontinuity: “We have forgotten what features of the world of experience caused us to frame pre-scientific concepts, and we have great difficulty in representing the world of experience to ourselves without the spectacles of the old-established conceptual interpretation. There is the further difficulty that our language is compelled to work with words that are inseparably connected with those primitive concepts.”
It is time, for the religious imagination and the religious experience to engage the complementary truths of science in filling that which is silence with meaning. However, this does not mean that those who do not believe in the existence of God or Being should refrain in any sense for assessing the implications of the new truths of science. Understanding these implications does not require to some ontology, and is in no way diminished by the lack of ontology. And one is free to recognize a basis for an exchange between science and religion since one is free to deny that this basis exists - there is nothing in our current scientific world-view that can prove the existence of God or Being and nothing that legitimate any anthropomorphic conceptions of the nature of God or Being. The question of belief in ontology remains what it has always been - a question, and the physical universe on the most basic level remains what has always been - a riddle. And the elemental answer to the question and the ultimate meaning of the riddle is and probably will always be, a matter of personal choice and conviction, in that the finding by some conclusive evidences that openly evince its question, is, much less, that the riddle, is precisely and explicitly relationally found that of, least of mention, a requiring explication that evokes of an immediate introduction for which is the unanswerable representation thereof. In that of its finding as such, their assembling to gather by some inspiring of formidable combinations awaiting the presence to the future. Wherefore, in its secretly enigmatically hidden reservoir lay of the continuous phenomenons, in that, for we are to discover or rediscover upon which the riddle has to undertake by the evincing properties that bind all substantive quantifications raised of all phenomena that adhere to the out-of-the-ordinary endlessnes. That once found might that we realize that its answer belongs but to no man, because once its riddle is solved the owing results are once-more, the afforded efforts gainfully to employ in the obtainable acquirements for which categorize in all of what we seek. In that, the self-naming proclamation belongs only to an overflowing Nothingness, whereby its own bleeding is to call for that which speaks of Nothing. Subsequently, there remains are remnant infractions whose fragments also bleed from their pours as Nothing, for Nothingness means more than Nothingness. If, only to recover in the partialities that unify consciousness, but, once, again, the continuous flow of Nothing gives only to itself the vacuousness that Nothingness belongs of an unchanging endlessness.
Our frame reference point works mostly to incorporate in an abounding classical set affiliation between mind and world, by that lay to some defining features and fundamental preoccupations, for which there is certainly nothing new in the suggestion that contemporary scientific world-view legitimates an alternate conception of the relationship between mind and world. The essential point of attention is that one of “consciousness” and remains in a certain state of our study.
But at the end of this, sometimes labourious journey that precipitate to some conclusion that should make the trip very worthwhile. Initiatory comments offer resistance in contemporaneous physics or biology for believing of the “I” in the stark Cartesian division between mind and world that some have rather aptly described as “the disease of the Western mind.”
Following the fundamental explorations that include questions about knowledge and the intuitive certainty by which but even here the epistemic concepts involved, as this aim is to provide a unified framework for understanding the universe. That in giving the immaterial essences that gave form and structure to this universe were being coded in geometrical and mathematical ideas. And this insight led him to invented algebraic geometry.
A scientific understanding to these ideas could be derived, as did that Descartes declared, that with the aid of precise deduction, and he also claimed that the contours of physical reality could be laid out in three-dimensional coordinates. In classical physics, external reality consisted of inert and inanimate matter moving according to wholly deterministic natural laws, and collections of discrete atomized parts made up wholes. Classical physics was also premised, however, a dualistic conception of reality as consisting of abstract disembodied ideas existing in a domain separate form and superior to sensible objects and movements. The notion that the material world experienced by the senses was inferior to the immaterial world experienced by mind or spirit has been blamed for frustrating the progress of physics up too at least the time of Galileo. But in one very important respect, it also made the first scientific revolution possible. Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton firmly believed that the immaterial geometrical and mathematical ideas that inform physical reality had a prior existence in the mind of God and that doing physics was a form of communion with these ideas.
The tragedy of the Western mind is a direct consequence of the stark Cartesian division between mind and world. This is the tragedy of the modern mind which “solved the riddle of the universe,” but only to replace it by another riddle: The riddle of itself. Yet, we discover the “certain principles of physical reality,” said Descartes, “not by the prejudices of the senses, but by rational analysis, which thus possess so great evidence that we cannot doubt of their truth.” Since the real, or that which actually remains external to ourselves, was in his view only that which could be represented in the quantitative terms of mathematics, Descartes concluded that all qualitative aspects of reality could be traced to the deceitfulness of the senses.
Given that Descartes distrusted the information from the senses to the point of doubting the perceived results of repeatable scientific experiments, how did he conclude that our knowledge of the mathematical ideas residing only in mind or in human subjectivity was accurate, much less the absolute truth? He did so by making a leap of faith - God constructed the world, said Descartes, according to the mathematical ideas that our minds could uncover in their pristine essence. The truths of classical physics as Descartes viewed them were quite literally “revealed” truths, and it was this seventeenth-century metaphysical presupposition that became in the history of science what is termed the “hidden ontology of classical epistemology.” Descartes lingers in the widespread conviction that science does not provide a “place for man” or for all that we know as distinctly human in subjective reality.
The historical notion in the unity of consciousness has had an interesting history in philosophy and psychology. Taking Descartes to be the first major philosopher of the modern period, the unity of consciousness was central to the study of the mind for the whole of the modern period until the 20th century. The notion figured centrally in the work of Descartes, Leibniz, Hume, Reid, Kant, Brennan, James, and, in most of the major precursors of contemporary philosophy of mind and cognitive psychology. It played a particularly important role in Kant's work.
A couple of examples will illustrate the role that the notion of the unity of consciousness played in this long literature. Consider a classical argument for dualism (the view that the mind is not the body, indeed is not made out of matter at all). It starts like this: When I consider the mind, which is to say of myself, as far as I am only a thinking thing, I cannot distinguish in myself any parts, but apprehend myself to be clearly one and entire.
Here is another, more elaborate argument based on unified consciousness. The conclusion will be that any system of components could never achieve unified consciousness acting in concert. William James' well-known version of the argument starts as follows: Take a sentence of a dozen words, take twelve men, and to each word. Then stand the men in a row or jam them in a bunch, and let each think of his word as intently as he will; Nowhere will there be a consciousness of the whole sentence.
James generalizes this observation to all conscious states. To get dualism out of this, we need to add a premise: That if the mind were made out of matter, conscious states would have to be distributed over some group of components in some relevant way. Nevertheless, this thought experiment is meant to show that conscious states cannot be so distributed. Therefore, the conscious mind is not made out of matter. Calling the argument that James is using is the Unity Argument. Clearly, the idea that our consciousness of, here, the parts of a sentence are unified is at the centre of the Unity Argument. Like the first, this argument goes all the way back to Descartes. Versions of it can be found in thinkers otherwise as different from one another as Leibniz, Reid, and James. The Unity Argument continued to be influential into the 20th century. That the argument was considered a powerful reason for concluding that the mind is not the body is illustrated in a backhanded way by Kant's treatment of it (as he found it in Descartes and Leibniz, not James, of course).
Kant did not think that we could uncover anything about the nature of the mind, including whether nor is it made out of matter. To make the case for this view, he had to show that all existing arguments that the mind is not material do not work and he set out to do justly that in the Critique of Pure Reason on the Paralogisms of Pure Reason (1781) (paralogisms are faulty inferences about the nature of the mind). The Unity Argument is the target of a major part of that chapter; if one is going to show that we cannot know what the mind is like, we must dispose of the Unity Argument, which purports to show that the mind is not made out of matter. Kant's argument that the Unity Argument does not support dualism is simple. He urges that the idea of unified consciousness being achieved by something that has no parts or components are no less mysterious than its being achieved by a system of components acting together. Remarkably enough, though no philosopher has ever met this challenge of Kant's and no account exists of what an immaterial mind not made out of parts might be like, philosophers continued to rely on the Unity Argument until well into the 20th century. It may be a bit difficult for us to capture this now but the idea any system of components, and for an even stronger reason might not realize that merge with consciousness, that each system of material components, had a strong intuitive appeal for a long time.
The notion that consciousness agrees to unification and was in addition central to one of Kant's own famous arguments, his ‘transcendental deduction of the categories’. In this argument, boiled down to its essentials, Kant claims that to tie various objects of experience together into a single unified conscious representation of the world, something that he simply assumed that we could do, we could probably apply certain concepts to the items in question. In particular we have to apply concepts from each of four fundamental categories of concept: Quantitative, qualitative, relational, and what he called ‘modal’ concepts. Modal concept’s concern of whether an item might exist, does exist, or must exist. Thus, the four kinds of concept are concepts for how many units, what features, what relations to other objects, and what existence status is represented in an experience.
It was relational conceptual representation that most interested Kant and of relational concepts, he thought the concept of cause-and-effect to be by far the most important. Kant wanted to show that natural science (which for him meant primarily physics) was genuine knowledge (he thought that Hume's sceptical treatment of cause and effect relations challenged this status). He believed that if he could prove that we must tie items in our experience together causally if we are to have a unified awareness of them, he would have put physics back on "the secure path of a science.” The details of his argument have exercised philosophers for more than two hundred years. We will not go into them here, but the argument illustrates how central the notion of the unity of consciousness was in Kant's thinking about the mind and its relation to the world.
Although the unity of consciousness had been at the centre of pre-20th century research on the mind, early in the 20th century the notion almost disappeared. Logical atomism in philosophy and behaviourism in psychology were both unsympathetic to the notion. Logical atomism focussed on the atomic elements of cognition (sense data, simple propositional judgments, etc.), rather than on how these elements are tied together to form a mind. Behaviourism urged that we focus on behaviour, the mind being alternatively myth or something otherwise that we cannot and do not need of studying the mysteriousness of science, from which brings meaning and purpose to humanity. This attitude extended to consciousness, of course. The philosopher Daniel Dennett summarizes the attitude prevalent at the time this way: Consciousness may be the last bastion of occult properties, epiphenomena, immeasurable subjective states - in short, the one area of mind best left to the philosophers. Let them make fools of themselves trying to corral the quicksilver of ‘phenomenology’ into a respectable theory.
The unity of consciousness next became an object of serious attention in analytic philosophy only as late as the 1960s. In the years since, new work has appeared regularly. The accumulated literature is still not massive but the unity of consciousness has again become an object of serious study. Before we examine the more recent work, we need to explicate the notion in more detail than we have done so far and introduce some empirical findings. Both are required to understand recent work on the issue.
To expand on our earlier notion of the unity of consciousness, we need to introduce a pair of distinctions. Current works on consciousness labours under a huge, confusing terminology. Different theorists exchange dialogue over the excess consciousness, phenomenal consciousness, self-consciousness, simple consciousness, creature consciousness, states consciousness, monitoring consciousness, awareness as equated with consciousness, awareness distinguished from consciousness, higher orders thought, higher orders experience, Qualia, the felt qualities of representations, consciousness as displaced perception, . . . and on and on and on. We can ignore most of this profusion but we do need two distinctions: between consciousness of objects and consciousness of our representations of objects, and between consciousness of representations and consciousness of self.
It is very natural to think of self-consciousness or, cognitive state more accurately, as a set of cognitive states. Self-knowledge is an example of such a cognitive state. There are plenty of things that I know bout self. I know the sort of thing I am: a human being, a warm-blooded rational animal with two legs. I know of many properties and much of what is happening to me, at both physical and mental levels. I also know things about my past, things I have done and that of whom I have been with other people I have met. But I have many self-conscious cognitive states that are not instances of knowledge. For example, I have the capacity to plan for the future - to weigh up possible courses of action in the light of goals, desires, and ambitions. I am capable of ca certain type of moral reflection, tide to moral self-and understanding and moral self-evaluation. I can pursue questions like, what sort of person I am? Am I the sort of person I want to be? Am I the sort of individual that I ought to be? This is my ability to think about myself. Of course, much of what I think when I think about myself in these self-conscious ways is also available to me to employing in my thought about other people and other objects.
When I say that I am a self-conscious creature, I am saying that I can do all these things. But what do they have in common? Could I lack some and still be self-conscious? These are central questions that take us to the heart of many issues in metaphysics, the philosophy of mind, and the philosophy of psychology.
And, if, in at all, a straightforward explanation to what makes those of the “self contents” immune to error through misidentification concerning the semantics of self, then it seems fair to say that the problem of self-consciousness has been dissolved, at least as much as solved.
This proposed account would be on a par with other noted examples as such as the redundancy theory of truth. That is to say, the redundancy theory or the deflationary view of truth claims that the predicate ‘ . . . true’ does not have a sense, i.e., expresses no substantive or profound or explanatory concept that ought to be the topic of philosophic enquiry. The approach admits of different versions, but centres on the pints (1) that ‘it is true that p’ says no more nor less than ‘p’ (so, redundancy”) (2) that in less direct context, such as ‘everything he said was true’, or ‘all logical consequences of true propositions as true’, the predicated functions as a device enabling us to generalize rather than as an adjective or predicate describing the things he said, or the kinds of propositions that follow from true propositions. For example, its translation is to infer that: (œ p, Q)(P & p
q
q)’ where there is no use of a notion of truth.
There are technical problems in interpreting all uses of the notion of truth in such ways, but they are not generally felt to be insurmountable. The approach needs to explain away apparently substantive uses of the notion, such as . . . ‘science aims at the truth’ or ‘truth is a norm governing discourse. Indeed, postmodernist writing frequently advocates that we must abandon such norms, along with a discredited ‘objective’ concept ion of truth. But perhaps, we can have the norms even when objectivity is problematic, since they can be framed within mention of truth: Science wants to be so that whenever science holds that ‘p’, when ‘p’‘. Discourse is to be regulated by the principle that it is wrong to assert ‘p’. When not-p.
Confronted with the range of putatively self-conscious cognitive states, one might assume that there is a single ability that is presupposed. This is my ability to think about myself, and I can only have knowledge about myself if I have beliefs about myself, and I can only have beliefs about myself if I can entertain thoughts about myself. The same can be said for auto-graphical memories and moral self-understanding. These are ways of thinking about myself.
Of course, much of what I think when I think about myself in these self-conscious ways is also available to me to employ in my thoughts about other people and other objects. My knowledge that I am a human being deploys certain conceptual abilities that I can also deploy in thinking that you are a human being. The same holds when I congratulate myself for satisfying the exacting moral standards of autonomous moral agencies. This involves concepts and descriptions that can apply equally to me and to others. On the other hand, when I think about myself, I am also putting to work an ability that I cannot put to work in thinking about other people and other objects. This is precisely the ability to apply those concepts and descriptions to myself. It has become common to refer to this ability as the ability to entertain “I’-thoughts.
What is an, “I”-thought?” Obviously, an “I”-thought is a thought that involves self-reference. I can think an “I”-thought only by thinking about myself. Equally obvious, though, this cannot be all that there is to say on the subject. I can think thoughts that involve a self-reference but am not “I”-thoughts. Suppose I think that the next person to set a parking ticket in the centre of Toronto deserves everything he gets. Unbeknown to be, the very next recipient of a parking ticket will be me. This makes my thought self-referencing, but it does not make it an “I”-thought. Why not? The answer is simply that I do not know that I will be the next person to get a parking ticket in the down-town area in Toronto. Is ‘A’, is that unfortunate person, then there is a true identity statement of the form I = A, but I do not know that this identity holds, I cannot be ascribed the thoughts that I will deserve everything I get? And say I am not thinking genuine “I”-thoughts, because one cannot think a genuine “I”-thought if one is ignorant that one is thinking about one’s self. So it is natural to conclude that “I”-thoughts involve a distinctive type of self-reference. This is the sort of self-reference whose natural linguistic expression is the first-person pronoun “I,” because one cannot be the first-person pronoun without knowing that one is thinking about oneself.
This is still not quite right, however, because thought contents can be specific, perhaps, they can be specified directly or indirectly. That is, all cognitive states to be considered, presuppose the ability to think about oneself. This is not only that they all have to some commonality, but it is also what underlies them all. We can see is more detail what this suggestion amounts to. This claim is that what makes all those cognitive states modes of self-consciousness is the fact that they all have content that can be specified directly by means of the first person pronoun “I” or, indirectly by means of the direct reflexive pronoun “he,” such they are first-person contents.
The class of first-person contents is not a homogenous class. There is an important distinction to be drawn between two different types of first-person contents, corresponding to two different modes in which the first person can be employed. The existence of this distinction was first noted by Wittgenstein in an important passage from The Blue Book: That there are two different cases in the use of the word “I” (or, “my”) which is called “the use as object” and “the use as subject.” Examples of the first kind of use are these” “My arm is broken,” “I have grown six inches,” “I have a bump on my forehead,” “The wind blows my hair about.” Examples of the second kind are: “I see so-and-so,” “I try to lift my arm,” “I think it will rain,” “I have a toothache.”
The explanations given are of the distinction that hinge on whether or not they are judgements that involve identification. However, one can point to the difference between these two categories by saying: The cases of the first category involve the recognition of a particular person, and there is in these cases the possibility of an error, or as: The possibility of can error has been provided for . . . It is possible that, say in an accident, I should feel a pain in my arm, see a broken arm at my side, and think it is mine when really it is my neighbour’s. And I could, looking into a mirror, mistake a bump on his forehead for one on mine. On the other hand, there is no question of recognizing a person when I say I have toothache. To ask “are you sure that its you who have pains?” Its one and only, would be nonsensical.
Wittgenstein is drawing a distinction between two types of first-person contents. The first type, which is describes as invoking the use of “I” as object, can be analysed in terms of more basic propositions. Such that the thought “I am B” involves such a use of “I.” Then we can understand it as a conjunction of the following two thoughts” “a is B” and “I am a.” We can term the former a predication component and the latter an identification component. The reason for braking the original thought down into these two components is precisely the possibility of error that Wittgenstein stresses in the second passages stated. One can be quite correct in predicating that someone is ‘B’, even though mistaken in identifying oneself as that person.
To say that a statement “a is B” is subject to error through misidentification relative to the term “a” means that the following is possible: The speaker knows some particular thing to be “B,” but makes the mistake of asserting “a is B” because, and only because, he mistakenly thinks that the thing he knows to be “B” is what “a” refers to.
The give direction to, then, is that one cannot be mistaken about who is being thought about. In one sense, Shoemaker’s criterion of immunity to error through misidentification relative to the first-person pronoun (simply “immunity to error through misidentification”) is too restrictive. Beliefs with first-person contents that are immune to error through identification tend to be acquired on grounds that usually do result in knowledge, but they do not have to be. The definition of immunity to error trough misidentification needs to be adjusted to accommodate them by formulating it in terms of justification rather than knowledge.
The connection to be captured is between the sources and grounds from which a belief is derived and the justification there is for that belief. Beliefs and judgements are immune to error through misidentification in virtue of the grounds on which they are based. The category of first-person contents being picked out is not defined by its subject matter or by any points of grammar. What demarcates the class of judgements and beliefs that are immune to error through misidentification is evidence base from which they are derived, or the information on which they are based. So, to take by example, my thought that I have a toothache is immune to error through misidentification because it is based on my feeling a pain in my teeth. Similarly, the fact that I am consciously perceiving you makes my belief that I am seeing you immune to error through misidentification.
To say that a statement “a is B” is subject to error through misidentification relative to the term “a” means that some particular thing is B, because his belief is based on an appropriate evidence base, but he makes the mistake of asserting “a is B” because, and only because, he mistakenly thinks that the thing he justified believes to be ‘B’ is what “a” refers to.
Beliefs with first-person contents that are immune to error through misidentification tend to be acquired on grounds that usually result in knowledge, but they do not have to be. The definition of immunity to error through misidentification needs to be adjusted to accommodate by formulating in terms of justification than knowledge. The connection to be captured is between the sources and grounds from which a belief is derived and the justification there is for that belief. Beliefs and judgements are immune to error through misidentification in virtue of the grounds on which they are based. The category of first-person contents picked out is not defined by its subject matter or by any points of grammar. What demarcates the class of judgements and beliefs that ae immune to error through misidentification is the evidence base from which they are derived, or the information on which they are based. For example, my thought that I have a toothache is immune to error through misidentification because it is based on my feeling a pain in my teeth. Similarly, the fact that I am consciously perceiving you makes my belief that I am seeing you immune to error through misidentification.
A suggestive definition is to enounce that a statement “a is b” is subject to error through misidentification relative to the term “a” means that the following is possible: The speaker is warranted in believing that some particular thing is “b,” because his belief is based on an appropriate evidence base, but he makes the mistake of asserting “a is b” because, and only because, he mistakenly thinks that the thing he justified believes to be “b” is what “a” refers to.
First-person contents that are immune to error through misidentification can be mistaken, but they do have a basic warrant in virtue of the evidence on which they are based, because the fact that they are derived from such an evidence base is closely linked to the fact that they are immune to error thought misidentification. Of course, there is room for considerable debate about what types of evidence base ae correlated with this class of first-person contents. Seemingly, then, that the distinction between different types of first-person content can be characterized in two different ways. We can distinguish between those first-person contents that are immune to error through misidentification and those that are subject to such error. Alternatively, we can discriminate between first-person contents with an identification component and those without such a component. For purposes rendered, in that these different formulations each pick out the same classes of first-person contents, although in interestingly different ways.
All first-person consent subject to error through misidentification contains an identification component of the form “I am a” and employ of the first-person-pronoun contents with an identification component and those without such a component. in that identification component, does it or does it not have an identification component? Acquitted by the pain of some infinite regress, at some stage we will have to arrive at an employment of the first-person pronoun that does not have to arrive at an employment of the first-person pronoun that does not presuppose an identification component, then, is that any first-person content subject to error through misidentification will ultimately be anchored in a first-person content that is immune to error through misidentification.
It is also important to stress how self-consciousness, and any theory of self-consciousness that accords a serious role in self-consciousness to mastery of the semantics of the first-person pronoun, are motivated by an important principle that has governed much if the development of analytical philosophy. This is the principle that the philosophical analysis of though can only proceed through the principle analysis of language. The principle has been defended most vigorously by Michael Dummett.
Even so, thoughts differ from that is said to be among the contents of the mind in being wholly communicable: It is of the essence of thought that I can convey to you the very thought that I have, as opposed to being able to tell you merely something about what my though is like. It is of the essence of thought not merely to be communicable, but to be communicable, without residue, by means of language. In order to understand thought, it is necessary, therefore, to understand the means by which thought is expressed. Dummett goes on to draw the clear methodological implications of this view of the nature of thought: We communicate thoughts by means of language because we have an implicit understanding of the workings of language, that is, of the principles governing the use of language, it is these principles, which relate to what is open to view in the mind other than via the medium of language that endow our sentences with the senses that they carry. In order to analyse thought, therefore, it is necessary to make explicit those principles, regulating our use of language, which we already implicitly grasp.
Many philosophers would want to dissent from the strong claim that the philosophical analysis of thought through the philosophical analysis of language is the fundamental task of philosophy. But there is a weaker principle that is very widely held as The Thought-Language Principle.
As it stands, the problem between to different roles that the pronoun “he” can play of such oracle clauses. On the one hand, “he” can be employed in a proposition that the antecedent of the pronoun (i.e., the person named just before the clause in question) would have expressed using the first-person pronoun. In such a situation that holds that “he,” is functioning as a quasi-indicator. Then when “he” is functioning as a quasi-indicator, it is written as “he.” Others have described this as the indirect reflexive pronoun. When “he” is functioning as an ordinary indicator, it picks out an individual in such a way that the person named just before the clause of opacity need not realize the identity of himself with that person. Clearly, the class of first-person contents is not homogenous class.
A subject has distinguished self-awareness to the extent that he is able to distinguish himself from the environment and its content. He has been distinguishing psychological self-awareness to the extent that he is able to distinguish himself as a psychological subject within a contract space of other psychological subjects. What does this require? The notion of a non-conceptual point of view brings together the capacity to register one’s distinctness from the physical environment and various navigational capacities that manifest a degree of understanding of the spatial nature of the physical environment. One very basic reason for thinking that these two elements must be considered together emerges from a point made in the richness of the self-awareness that accompanies the capacity to distinguish the self from the environment is directly proportion are to the richness of the awareness of the environment from which the self is being distinguished. So no creature can understand its own distinction from the physical enjoinment without having an independent understanding of the nature of the physical environment, and since the physical environment is essentially spatial, this requires an understanding of the spatial nature of the physical environment. but this cannot be the whole story. It leaves unexplained why an understanding should be required of this particular essential feature of the physical environment. After all, it is also an essential feature of the physical environment that it is composed of an object that has both primary and secondary qualities, but there is a reflection of this in the notion of a non-conceptual point of view. More is needed to understand the significance of spatiality.
The very idea of a perceived objective spatial world brings with it the ideas of the subject for being in the world, which there course of his perceptions due to his changing position in the world and to the more or less stable in the way of the world is. The idea that there is an objective world and the idea that the subject is somewhere cannot be separated, and where he is given by what he can perceive.
But the main criteria of his work is ver much that the dependence holds equally in the opposite direction.
It seems that this general idea can be extrapolated and brought to bar on the notion of a non-conceptual point of view. What binds together the two apparently discrete components of a non-conceptual point of view is precisely the fact that a creature’s self-awareness must be awareness of itself as a spatial bing that acts upon and is acted upon by the spatial world. Evans’s own gloss on how a subject’s self-awareness, is awareness of himself as a spatial being involves the subject’s mastery of a simple theory explaining how the world makes his perceptions as they are, with principles like “I perceive such and such, such and such holds at ‘P’; so (probably) am ‘P’ and “I’’: am ‘P?’, such does not hold at ‘P’, so I cannot really be perceiving such and such, even though it appears that I am” (Evans 1982). This is not very satisfactory, though. If the claim is that the subject must explicitly hold these principles, then it is clearly false. If, on the other hand, the claim is that these are the principles of a theory that a self-conscious subject must tacitly know, then the claim seems very uninformative in the absence of any specification of the precise forms of behaviour that can only be explained by there ascription to a body of tacit knowledge. We need an account of what it is for a subject to be correctly described as possessing such a simple theory of perception. The point however, is simply that the notion of as non-conceptual point of view as presented, can be viewed as capturing, at a more primitive level, precisely the same phenomenon that Evans is trying to capture with his notion of a simple theory of perception.
Moreover, stressing the importance of action and movement indicates how the notion of a non-conceptual point of view might be grounded in the self-specifying in for action to be found in visual perception. By that in thinking particularly of the concept of an affordance so central to Gibsonian theories of perception. One important type of self-specifying information in the visual field is information about the possibilities for action and reaction that the environment affords the perceiver, by which that affordancs are non-conceptual first-person contents. The development of a non-conceptual point of view clearly involves certain forms of reasoning, and clearly, we will not have a full understanding of he the notion of a non-conceptual point of view until we have an explanation of how this reasoning can take place. The spatial reasoning engaged over which this reasoning takes place. The spatial reasoning involved in developing a non-conceptual point of view upon the world is largely a matter of calibrating different affordances into an integrated representation of the world.
In short, any learned cognitive ability is contractible out of more primitive abilities already in existence. There are good reasons to think that the perception of affordance is innate. And so if, the perception of affordances is the key to the acquisition of an integrated spatial representation of the environment via the recognition of affordance symmetries, affordance transitivities, and affordance identities, then it is precisely conceivable that the capacities implicated in an integrated representation of the world could emerge non-mysteriously from innate abilities.
Nonetheless, there are many philosophers who would be prepared to countenance the possibility of non-conceptual content without accepting that to use the theory of non-conceptual content so solve the paradox of self-consciousness. This is ca more substantial task, as the methodology that is adapted rested on the first of the marks of content, namely that content-bearing states serve to explain behaviour in situations where the connections between sensory input and behaviour output cannot be plotted in a law-like manner (the functionalist theory of self-reference). As such, not of allowing that every instance of intentional behaviour where there are no such law-like connections between sensory input and behaviour output needs to be explained by attributing to the creature in question of representational states with first-person contents. Even so, many such instances of intentional behaviour do need to be explained in this way. This offers a way of establishing the legitimacy of non-conceptual first-person contents. What would satisfactorily demonstrate the legitimacy of non-conceptual first-person contents would be the existence of forms of behaviour in paralinguistic or nonlinguistic creatures for which inference to the best understanding or explanation (which in this context includes inference to the most parsimonious understanding, or explanation) demands the ascription of states with non-conceptual first-person contents.
The non-conceptual first-person contents and the pick-up of self-specifying information in the structure of exteroceptive perception provide very primitive forms of non-conceptual self-consciousness, even if forms that can plausibly be viewed as in place of one’s birth or shortly afterward. The dimension along which forms of self-consciousness must be compared is the richest of the conception of the self that they provide. All of which, a crucial element in any form of self-consciousness is how it enables the self-conscious subject to distinguish between self and environment - what many developmental psychologists term self-world dualism. In this sense, self-consciousness is essentially a contrastive notion. One implication of this is that a proper understanding of the richness of the conception that we take into account the richness of the conception of the environment with which it is associated. In the case of both somatic proprioception and the pick-up of self-specifying information in exteroceptive perception, there is a relatively impoverished conception of the environment. One prominent limitation is that both are synchronic than diachronic. The distinction between self and environment that they offer is a distinction that is effective at a time but not over time. The contrast between propriospecific and exterospecific invariant in visual perception, for example, provides a way for a creature to distinguish between itself and the world at any given moment, but this is not the same as a conception of oneself as an enduring thing distinguishable over time from an environment that also endures over time.
The notion of a non-conceptual point of view brings together the capacity to register one’s distinctness from the physical environment and various navigational capacities that manifest a degree of understanding of the spatial nature of the physical environment. One very basic reason for thinking that these elements must be considered together emerges from a point made from which the richness of the awareness of the environment from which the self is being distinguished. So no creature can understand its own distinctness from the physical environment without having an independent understanding of the nature of the physical environment, and since the physical environment is essentially spatial, this requires an understanding of the spatial nature of the physical environment. But this cannot be the whole story. It leaves unexplained why an understanding should be required of this particular essential feature of the physical environment. After all, it is also an essential feature of the physical environment that it is composed of objects that have both primary and secondary qualities, but there is no reflection of this in the notion of a non-conceptual point of view. More is needed to understand the significance of spatiality.
The general idea is very powerful, that the relevance of spatiality to self-consciousness comes about not merely because the world is spatial but also because the self-conscious subject is himself a spatial element of the world. One cannot be self-conscious without being aware that one is a spatial element of the world, and one cannot be aware that one is a spatial element of the world, and one cannot be aware that one is a spatial element of the world without a grasp of the spatial nature of the world.
The very idea of perceivable, objective spatial wold bings it the idea of the subject for being in the world, with the course of his perceptions due to his changing position in the world and to the more or less stable way the world is. The idea that there is an objective world and the idea that the subject is somewhere cannot be separated, and where he is given by what he can perceive.
One possible reaction to consciousness, is that it is erroneously only because unrealistic and ultimately unwarranted requirements are being placed on what is to count as genuinely self-referring first-person thoughts. Suppose for such an objection will be found in those theories that attempt to explain first-person thoughts in a way that does not presuppose any form of internal representation of the self or any form of self-knowledge. Consciousness arises because mastery of the semantics of the first-person pronoun is available only to creatures capable of thinking first-person thoughts whose contents involve reflexive self-reference and thus, seem to presuppose mastery of the first-person pronoun. If, thought, it can be established that the capacity to think genuinely first-person thoughts does not depend on any linguistic and conceptual abilities, then arguably the problem of circularity will no longer have purchase.
There is no account of self-reference and genuinely first-person thought that can be read in a way that poses just such a direct challenge to the account of self-reference underpinning the conscious. This is the functionalist account, although spoken before, the functionalist view, reflexive self-reference is a completely unmysterious phenomenon susceptible to a functional analysis. Reflexive self-reference is not dependent upon any antecedent conceptual or linguistic skills. Nonetheless, the functionalist account of a reflexive self-reference is deemed to be sufficiently rich to provide the foundation for an account of the semantics of the first-person pronoun. If this is right, then the circularity at which consciousness is at its heart, and can be avoided.
The circularity problems at the root of consciousness arise because mastery of the semantics of the first-person pronoun requires the capacity to think fist-person thoughts whose natural expression is by means of the first-person pronoun. It seems clear that the circle will be broken if there are forms of first-person thought that are more primitive than those that do not require linguistic mastery of the first-person pronoun. What creates the problem of capacity circularity is the thought that we need to appeal to first-person contents in explaining mastery of the first-person pronoun, whereby its containing association with the thought that any creature capable of entertaining first-person contents will have mastered the first-person pronoun. So if we want to retain the thought that mastery of the first-person pronoun can only be explained in terms of first-person contents, capacity circularity can only be avoided if there are first-person contents that do not presuppose mastery of the first-person pronoun.
On the other hand, however, it seems to follow from everything earlier mentioned about “I”-thoughts that conscious thought in the absence of linguistic mastery of the first-person pronoun is a contradiction in terms. First-person thoughts have first-person contents, where first-person contents can only be specified in terms of either the first-person pronoun or the indirect reflexive pronoun. So how could such thoughts be entertained by a thinker incapable of a reflexive self-reference? How can a thinker who is not capable of reflexively reference? How can a thinker who is not the first-person pronoun be plausibly ascribed thoughts with first-person contents? The thought that, despite all this, there are real first-person contents that do not presuppose mastery of the first-person pronoun is at the core of the functionalist theory of self-reference and first-person belief.
The best developed functionalist theory of self-reference has been provided by Hugh Mellor (1988-1089). The basic phenomenon he is interested in explaining is what it is for a creature to have what he terms a “subjective belief,” that is to say, a belief whose content is naturally expressed by a sentence in the first-person singular and the present tense. The explanation of subjective belief that he offers makes such beliefs independent of both linguistic abilities and conscious beliefs. From this basic account he constructs an account of conscious subjective beliefs and the of the reference of the first-person pronoun “I.” These putatively more sophisticated cognitive states are casually derivable from basic subjective beliefs.
Historically, Heidegger' theory of spatiality distinguishes three different types of space: (1) world-space, (2) regions (Gegend), and (3) Dasein's spatiality. What Heidegger calls "world-space" is space conceived as an “arena” or “container” for objects. It captures both our ordinary conception of space and theoretical space - in particular absolute space. Chairs, desks, and buildings exist “in” space, but world-space is independent of such objects, much like absolute space “in which” things exist. However, Heidegger thinks that such a conception of space is an abstraction from the spatial conduct of our everyday activities. The things that we deal with are near or far relative to us; according to Heidegger, this nearness or farness of things is how we first become familiar with that which we (later) represented to ourselves as "space." This familiarity with which are rendered the understanding of space (in a "container" metaphor or in any other way) possible. It is because we act spatially, going to places and reaching for things to use, that we can even develop a conception of abstract space at all. What we normally think of as space - world-space - turns out not to be what space fundamentally is; world-space is, in Heidegger's terminology, space conceived as vorhanden. It is an objectified space founded on a more basic space-of-action.
Since Heidegger thinks that space-of-action is the condition for world-space, he must explain the former without appealing to the latter. Heidegger's task then is to describe the space-of-action without presupposing such world-space and the derived concept of a system of spatial coordinates. However, this is difficult because all our usual linguistic expressions for describing spatial relations presuppose world-space. For example, how can one talk about the "distance between you and me" without presupposing some sort of metric, i.e., without presupposing an objective access to the relation? Our spatial notions such as "distance," "location," etc. must now be re-described from a standpoint within the spatial relation of self (Dasein) to the things dealt with. This problem is what motivates Heidegger to invent his own terminology and makes his discussion of space awkward. In what follows I will try to use ordinary language whenever possible to explain his principal ideas.
The space-of-action has two aspects: regions (space as Zuhandenheit) and Dasein's spatiality (space as Existentiale). The sort of space we deal within our daily activity is "functional" or zuhanden, and Heidegger's term for it is "region." The places we work and live-the office, the park, the kitchen, etc.-all having different regions that organizes our activities and conceptualized “equipment.” My desk area as my work region has a computer, printer, telephone, books, etc., in their appropriate “places,” according to the spatiality of the way in which I work. Regions differ from space viewed as a "container"; the latter notion lacks a "referential" organization with respect to our context of activities. Heidegger wants to claim that referential functionality is an inherent feature of space itself, and not just a "human" characteristic added to a container-like space.
In our activity, how do we specifically stand with respect to functional space? We are not "in" space as things are, but we do exist in some spatially salient manner. What Heidegger is trying to capture is the difference between the nominal expression "we exist in space" and the adverbial expression "we exist spatially." He wants to describe spatiality as a mode of our existence rather than conceiving space as an independent entity. Heidegger identifies two features of Dasein's spatiality - "de-severance" (Ent-fernung) and "directionality" (Ausrichtung).
De-severance describes the way we exist as a process of spatial self-determination by “making things available” to ourselves. In Heidegger's language, in making things available we "take in space" by "making the farness vanish" and by "bringing things close"
We are not simply contemplative beings, but we exist through concretely acting in the world - by reaching for things and going to places. When I walk from my desk area into the kitchen, I am not simply alternating locations from points ‘A’ to ‘B’ in an arena-like space, but I am “taking in space” as I move, continuously making the “farness” of the kitchen “vanish,” as the shifting spatial perspectives are opened as I go along.
This process is also inherently "directional." Every de-severing is aimed toward something or in a certain direction that is determined by our concern and by specific regions. I must always face and move in a certain direction that is dictated by a specific region. If I want to get a glass of ice tea, instead of going out into the yard, I face toward the kitchen and move in that direction, following the region of the hallway and the kitchen. Regions determine where things belong, and our actions are coordinated in directional ways accordingly.
De-severance, directionality, and regionality are three ways of describing the spatiality of a unified Being-in-the-world. As aspects of Being-in-the-world, these spatial modes of being are equiprimordial.9 10 Regions "refer" to our activities, since they are established by our ways of being and our activities. Our activities, in turn, are defined in terms of regions. Only through the region can our de-severance and directionality are established. Our object of concern always appears in a certain context and place, in a certain direction. It is because things appear in a certain direction and in their places “there” that we have our “here.” We orient ourselves and organize our activities, always within regions that must already be given to us.
Heidegger's analysis of space does not refer to temporal aspects of Being-in-the-world, even though they are presupposed. In the second half of Being and Time he explicitly turns to the analysis of time and temporality in a discussion that is significantly more complex than the earlier account of spatiality. Heidegger makes the following five distinctions between types of time and temporality: (1) The ordinary or "vulgar" conception of time; this is time conceived as Vorhandenheit. (2) World-time; this is time as Zuhandenheit. Dasein's temporality is divided into three types: (3) Dasein's inauthentic (uneigentlich) temporality, (4) Dasein's authentic (eigentlich) temporality, and (5) originary temporality or “temporality as such.” The analyses of the vorhanden and zuhanden modes of time are interesting, but it is Dasein's temporality that is relevant to our discussion, since it is this form of time that is said to be founding for space. Unfortunately, Heidegger is not clear about which temporality plays this founding role.
We can begin by excluding Dasein's inauthentic temporality. This mode of time refers to our unengaged, "average" way in which we regard time. It is the “past we forget” and the “future we expect,” all without decisiveness and resolute understanding. Heidegger seems to consider that this mode of a temporality is the temporal dimension of de-severance and directionality, since de-severance and directionality deal only with everyday actions. As such, is the inauthenticity founded within a temporality that must in themselves be set up in an authentic basis of some sort. The two remaining candidates for the foundation are Dasein's authentic temporality and originary temporality.
Dasein's authentic temporality is the "resolute" mode of temporal existence. An authentic temporality is realized when Dasein becomes aware of its own finite existence. This temporality has to do with one's grasp of his or her own life as a whole from one's own unique perspective. Life gains meaning as one's own life-project, bounded by the sense of one's realization that he or she is not immortal. This mode of time appears to have a normative function within Heidegger's theory. In the second half of BT he often refers to inauthentic or "everyday" mode of time as lacking some primordial quality which authentic temporality possesses.
In contrast, an originary temporality is the formal structure of Dasein's temporality itself. In addition to its spatial Being-in-the-world, Dasein also exists essentially as "projection." Projection is oriented toward the future, and this coming orientation regulates our concern by constantly realizing various possibilities. A temporality is characterized formally as this dynamic structure of "a future that makes present in the process of having been." Heidegger calls the three moments of temporality - the future, the present, and the past - the three ecstasies of the temporality. This mode of time is not normative but rather formal or neutral; as Blattner argues, the temporal features that constitute Dasein's temporality describe both inauthentic and authentic temporalities.
There are some passages that indicate that authentic temporality is the primary manifestation of the temporality, because of its essential orientation toward the future. For instance, Heidegger states that "temporality first showed itself in anticipatory resoluteness." Elsewhere, he argues that "the ‘time’ which is accessible to Dasein's common sense is not primordial, but arises rather from authentic temporality." In these formulations, authentic to the temporality is said to find of other inauthentic modes. According to Blattner, this is "by far the most common" interpretation of the status of authentic time.
However, to argue with Blattner and Haar, in that there are far more passages where Heidegger considers an originary temporality as distinct from authentic temporality, and founding for it and for Being-in-the-world as well. Here are some examples: The temporality has different possibilities and different ways of temporalizing itself. The basic possibilities of existence, the authenticity and inauthenticity of Dasein, are grounded ontologically on possible temporalizations of temporality. Time is primordial as the temporalizing of a temporality, and as such it makes possible the Constitution of the structure of care.
Heidegger's conception seems to be that it is because we are fundamentally temporal - having the formal structure of ecstatic-horizontals unity - that we can project, authentically or inauthentically, our concernful dealings in the world and exist as Being-in-the-world. It is on this account that temporality is said to found spatiality.
Since Heidegger uses the term "temporality" rather than "an authentic temporality" whenever the founding relation is discussed between space and time, I will begin the following analysis by assuming that it is originary temporality that founds Dasein's spatiality. On this assumption two interpretations of the argument are possible, but both are unsuccessful given his phenomenological framework.
The principal argument, entitled "The Temporality of the Spatiality that is Characteristic of Dasein." Heidegger begins the section with the following remark: Though the expression `temporality' does not signify what one understands by "time" when one talks about `space and time', nevertheless spatiality seems to make up another basic attribute of Dasein corresponding to temporality. Thus with Dasein's spatiality, existential-temporal analysis seems to come to a limit, so that this entity that we call "Dasein," must be considered as `temporal' `and' as spatial coordinately.
Accordingly, Heidegger asks, "Has our existential-temporal analysis of Dasein thus been brought to a halt . . . by the spatiality that is characteristic of Dasein . . . and Being-in-the-world?" His answer is no. He argues that since "Dasein's constitution and its ways to be are possible ontologically only on the basis of temporality," and since the "spatiality that is characteristic of Dasein . . . belongs to Being-in-the-world," it follows that "Dasein's specific spatiality must be grounded in temporality."
Heidegger's claim is that the totality of regions-de-severance-directionality can be organized and re-organized, "because Dasein as temporality is ecstatic-horizontals in its Being." Because Dasein exists futurely as "for-the-sake-of-which," it can discover regions. Thus, Heidegger remarks: "Only on the basis of its ecstatic-horizontals temporality is it possible for Dasein to break into space."
However, in order to establish that temporality founds spatiality, Heidegger would have to show that spatiality and temporality must be distinguished in such a way that temporality not only shares a content with spatiality but also has additional content as well. In other words, they must be truly distinct and not just analytically distinguishable. But what is the content of "the ecstatic-horizontals constitution of temporality?" Does it have a content above and beyond Being-in-the-world? Nicholson poses the same question as follows: Is it human care that accounts for the characteristic features of a humanistic temporality? Or is it, as Heidegger says, human temporality that accounts for the characteristic features of human care, serves as their foundation? The first alternative, according to Nicholson, is to reduce temporality to care: "the specific attributes of the temporality of Dasein . . . would be in their roots not aspects of temporality but reflections of Dasein's care." The second alternative is to treat temporality as having some content above and beyond care: "the three-fold constitution of care stems from the three-fold constitution of temporality."
Nicholson argues that the second alternative is the correct reading.18 Dasein lives in the world by making choices, but "the ecstasies of temporality lies well prior to any choice . . . so our study of care introduces us to a matter whose scope outreaches care: the ecstasies of temporality itself." Accordingly, "What was able to make clear is that the reign of temporal ecstasies over the choices we make accords with the place we occupy as finite beings in the world."
But if Nicholson's interpretation is right, what would be the content of "the ecstasies of the temporality itself," if not some sort of purely formal entity or condition such as Kant's "pure intuition?" But this would imply that Heidegger has left phenomenology behind and is now engaging in establishing a transcendental framework outside the analysis of Being-in-the-world, such that this formal structure founds Being-in-the-world. This is inconsistent with his initial claim that Being-in-the-world is itself foundational.
Nicholson's first alternative offers a more consistent reading. The structure of temporality should be treated as an abstraction from Dasein's Being-in-the-world, specifically from care. In this case, the content of temporality is just the past and the present and the future ways of Being-in-the-world. Heidegger's own words support this reading: "as Dasein temporalizes itself, a world is too," and "the world is neither present-at-hand nor ready-to-hand, but temporalizes itself in temporality." He also states that the zuhanden "world-time, in the rigorous sense of the existential-temporal conception of the world, belongs as itself." In this reading, "temporality temporalizing itself," "Dasein's projection," and "the temporal projections of the world" are three different ways of describing the same "happening" of Being-in-the-world, which Heidegger calls "self-directive."
However, if this is the case, then temporality does not found spatiality, except perhaps in the trivial sense that spatiality is built into the notion of care that is identified with temporality. The fulfilling contents of “temporality temporalizing itself” simply is the various openings of regions, i.e., Dasein's "breaking into space." Certainly, as Stroeker points out, it is true that "nearness and remoteness are spatially-transient phenomena and cannot be conceived without a temporal moment." But this necessity does not constitute a foundation. Rather, they are equiprimordial. The addition of temporal dimensions does indeed complete the discussion of spatiality, which abstracted from time. But this completion, while it better articulates the whole of Being-in-the-world, does not show that temporality is more fundamental.
If temporality and spatiality are equiprimordial, then all of the supposedly founding relations between temporality and spatiality could just as well be reversed and still hold true. Heidegger's view is that "because Dasein as temporality is ecstatic-horizontals in its Being, it can take along with it a space for which it has made room, and it can do so farcically and constantly." But if Dasein is essentially a factical projection, then the reverse should also be true. Heidegger appears to have assumed the priority of temporality over spatiality perhaps under the influence of Kant, Husserl, or Dilthey, and then based his analyses on that assumption.
However, there may still be a way to save Heidegger's foundational project in terms of authentic temporality. Heidegger never specifically mentions the authenticity of temporalities, since he suggests earlier that the primary manifestation of temporality is authentic temporality, such a reading may perhaps be justified. This reading would treat the whole spatio-temporal structure of Being-in-the-world. The resoluteness of authentic temporality, arising out of Dasein's own "Being-towards-death," would supply a content to temporality above and beyond everyday involvements.
Heidegger is said to have its foundations in resoluteness, Dasein determines its own Situation through anticipatory resoluteness, which includes particular locations and involvements, i.e., the spatiality of Being-in-the-world. The same set of circumstances could be transformed into a new situation with different significance, if Dasein chooses resolutely to bring that about. Authentic temporality in this case can be said to found spatiality, since Dasein's spatiality is determined by resoluteness. This reading moreover enables Heidegger to construct a hierarchical relation between temporality and spatiality within Being-in-the-world than going outside of it to a formal transcendental principle, since the choice of spatiality is grasped phenomenological ly in terms of the concrete experience of decision.
Moreover, one might argue that according to Heidegger one's own grasp of "death" is uniquely a temporal mode of existence, whereas there is no such weighty conception involving spatiality. Death is what makes Dasein "stands before itself in its own most potentiality-for-Being." Authentic Being-towards-death is a "Being towards a possibility - indeed, towards a distinctive possibility of Dasein itself." One could argue that notions such as "potentiality" and "possibility" are distinctively temporal, nonspatial notions. So "Being-towards-death," as temporal, appears to be much more ontologically "fundamental" than spatiality.
However, Heidegger is not yet out of the woods. I believe that labelling the notions of anticipatory resoluteness, Being-towards-death, potentiality, and possibility specifically as temporal modes of being (to the exclusion of spatiality) begs the question. Given Heidegger's phenomenological framework, why assume that these notions are only temporal (without spatial dimensions)? If Being-towards-death, potentiality-for-Being, and possibilities were "purely" temporal notions, what phenomenological sense can we make of such abstract conceptions, given that these are manifestly our modes of existence as bodily beings? Heidegger cannot have in mind such an abstract notion of time, if he wants to treat of the proposed authenticity that corragulates of temporality is the meaning of care. It would seem more consistent with his theoretical framework to say that Being-towards-death is a rich spatio-temporal mode of being, given that Dasein is Being-in-the-world.
Furthermore, the interpretation that defines resoluteness as uniquely temporal suggests too much of a voluntaristic or subjectivistic notion of the self that controls its own Being-in-the-world from the standpoint of its future. This would drive a wedge between the self and its Being-in-the-world, thereby creating a temporal "inner self" which can decide its own spatiality. However, if Dasein is Being-in-the-world as Heidegger claims, then all of Dasein's decisions should be viewed as concretely grounded in Being-in-the-world. If so, spatiality must be an essential constitutive element.
Hence, authentic temporality, if construed narrowly as the mode of temporality, at first appears to be able to found spatiality, but it also commits Heidegger either to an account of time that is too abstract, or to the notion of the self far more like Sartre's than his own. What is lacking in Heidegger's theory that generates this sort of difficulty is a developed conception of Dasein as a lived body - a notion more fully developed by Merleau-Ponty.
The elements of a more consistent interpretation of authentic temporality are present in Being and Time. This interpretation incorporates a view of "authentic spatiality" in the notion of authentic temporality. This would be Dasein's resolutely grasping its own spatio-temporal finitude with respect to its place and its world. Dasein is born at a particular place, lives in a particular place, dies in a particular place, all of which it can relate to in an authentic way. The place Dasein lives are not a place of anonymous involvements. The place of Dasein must be there where its own potentiality-for-Being is realized. Dasein's place is thus a determination of its existence. Had Heidegger developed such a conception more fully, he would have seen that temporality is equiprimordial with thoroughly spatial and contextual Being-in-the-world. They are distinguishable but equally fundamental ways of emphasizing our finitude.
The internalized tensions within his theory eventually led Heidegger to reconsider his own positions. In his later period, he explicitly develops what may be viewed as a conception of authentic spatiality. For instance, in "Building Dwelling Thinking," Heidegger states that Dasein's relations to locations and to spaces inheres in dwelling, and dwelling is the basic character of our Being. The notion of dwelling expresses an affirmation of spatial finitude. Through this affirmation one acquires a proper relation to one's environment.
But the idea of dwelling must accede to the fact that has already been discussed in Being and Time, regarding the term "Being-in-the-world," Heidegger explains that the word "in" is derived from "in-an" - to "reside," "habits are," "to dwell." The emphasis on "dwelling" highlights the essentially "worldly" character of the self.
Thus from the beginning Heidegger had a conception of spatial finitude, but this fundamental insight was undeveloped because of his ambition to carry out the foundational project that favoured time. From the 1930's on, as Heidegger abandons the foundational project focussing on temporality, the conception of authentic spatiality comes to the fore. For example, in Discourse on Thinking Heidegger considers the spatial character of Being as "that-which-regions (die Gegnet)." The peculiar expression is a re-conceptualization of the notion of "region" as it appeared in Being and Time. Region is given an active character and defined as the "openness that surrounds us" which "comes to meet us." By giving it an active character, Heidegger wants to emphasize that region is not brought into being by us, but rather exists in its own right, as that which expresses our spatial existence. Heidegger states that "one needs to understand ‘resolve’ (Entschlossenheit) as it is understood in Being and Time: as the opening of man [Dasein] particularly undertaken by him for openness, . . . which we think of as that-which-regions." Here Heidegger is asserting an authentic conception of spatiality. The finitude expressed in the notion of Being-in-the-world is thus transformed into an authentic recognition of our finite worldly existence in later writings.
Meanwhile, it seems that it is nonetheless, natural to combine this close connection with conclusions by proposing an account of self-consciousness, as to the capacity to think “I”-thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification, though misidentification varies with the semantics of the “self” - this would be a redundant account of self-consciousness. Once we have an account of what it is to be capable of thinking “I”-thoughts, we will have explained everything distinctive about self-consciousness. It stems from the thought that what is distinctive about “I”-thoughts are that they are either themselves immune to error or they rest on further “I” -Thoughts that are immune in that way.
Once we have an account of what it is to be capable of thinking thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification, we will have explained everything about the capacity to think “I”-thoughts. As it would to claim of deriving from the thought that immunity to error through misidentification depends on the semantics of the “self.”
Once, again, that when we have an account of the semantics in that we will have explained everything distinctive about the capacity to think thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification.
The suggestion is that the semantics of “self-ness” will explain what is distinctive about the capacity to think thoughts immune to error through misidentification. Semantics alone cannot be expected to explain the capacity for thinking thoughts. The point in fact, that all that there is to the capacity of think thoughts that are immune tp error is the capacity to think the sort of thought whose natural linguistic expression involves the “self,” where this capacity is given by mastery of the semantics of “self-ness.” Yielding, to explain what it is to master the semantics of “self-ness,” especially to think thoughts immune to error through misidentification.
On this view, the mastery of the semantics of “self-ness” may be construed as for the single most important explanation in a theory of “self-consciousness.”
Its quickened reformulation might be put to a defender of “redundancy” or the deflationary theory is how mastery of the semantics of “self-ness” can make sense of the distinction between “self-ness contents” that are immune to error through misidentification and the “self contents” that lack such immunity. However, this is only an apparent difficulty when one remembers that those of the “selves” content is immune to error through misidentification, because, those employing ‘”I” as object, were able in having to break down their component elements. The identification component and the predication components that for which if the composite identification components of each are of such judgements that mastery of the semantics of “self-regulatory” content must be called upon to explain. Identification component are, of course, immune to error through misidentification.
It is also important to stress how the redundancy and the deflationary theory of self-consciousness, and any theory of self-consciousness that accords a serious role in self-consciousness to mastery of the semantics of the “self-ness,” are motivated by an important principle that has governed much of the development of analytical philosophy. The principle is the principle that the analysis of thought can only continue thought, the philosophical analysis of language such that we communicate thoughts by means of language because we have an implicit understanding of the workings of language, that is, of the principle governing the use of language: It is these principles, which relate to what is open to view and mind other that via the medium of language, which endow our sentences with the senses that they carry. In order to analyse thought, therefore, it is necessary to make explicitly those principles, regulating our use of language, which we already implicitly grasp.
Still, at the core of the notion of broad self-consciousness is the recognition of what consciousness is the recognition of what developmental psychologist’s call “self-world dualism.” Any subject properly described as self-conscious must be able to register the distinction between himself and the world, of course, this is a distinction that can be registered in a variety of way. The capacity for self-ascription of thoughts and experiences, in combination with the capacity to understand the world as a spatial and causally structured system of mind-independent objects, is a high-level way of registering of this distinction.
Consciousness of objects is closely related to sentience and to being awake. It is (at least) being in somewhat of a distinct informational and behavioural intention where its responsive state is for one's condition as played within the immediateness of environmental surroundings. It is the ability, for example, to process and act responsively to information about food, friends, foes, and other items of relevance. One finds consciousness of objects in creatures much less complex than human beings. It is what we (at any rate first and primarily) have in mind when we say of some person or animal as it is coming out of general anaesthesia, ‘It is regaining consciousness’ as consciousness of objects is not just any form of informational access to the world, but the knowing about and being conscious of, things in the world.
We are conscious of our representations when we are conscious, not (just) of some object, but of our representations: ‘I am seeing [as opposed to touching, smelling, tasting] and seeing clearly [as opposed too dimly].’ Consciousness of our own representations it is the ability to process and act responsively to information about oneself, but it is not just any form of such informational access. It is knowing about, being conscious of, one's own psychological states. In Nagel's famous phrase (1974), when we are conscious of our representations, it is ‘like something’ to have them. If, that which seems likely, there are forms of consciousness that do not involve consciousness of objects, they might consist in consciousness of representations, though some theorists would insist that this kind of consciousness be not of representations either (via representations, perhaps, but not of them).
The distinction just drawn between consciousness of objects and consciousness of our representations of objects may seem similar to Form's (1995) contributes of a well-known distinction between P- [phenomenal] and A- [access] consciousness. Here is his definition of ‘A-consciousness’: "A state is A-conscious if it is poised for direct control of thought and action." He tells us that he cannot define ‘P-consciousness’ in any "remotely non-circular way" but will use it to refer to what he calls "experiential properties,” what it is like to have certain states. Our consciousness of objects may appear to be like A-consciousness. It is not, however, it is a form of P-consciousness. Consciousness of an object is - how else can we put it? - consciousness of the object. Even if consciousness is just informational excess of a certain kind (something that Form would deny), it is not all form of informational access and we are talking about conscious access here. Recall the idea that it is like something to have a conscious state. Other closely related ideas are that in a conscious state, something appears to one, that conscious states have a ‘felt quality’. A term for all this is phenomenology: Conscious states have a phenomenology. (Thus some philosophers speak of phenomenal consciousness here.) We could now state the point we are trying to make this way. If I am conscious of an object, then it is like something to have that object as the content of a representation.
Historically, Heidegger' theory of spatiality distinguishes three different types of space: (1) world-space, (2) regions (Gegend), and (3) Dasein's spatiality. What Heidegger calls "world-space" is space conceived as an “arena” or “container” for objects. It captures both our ordinary conception of space and theoretical space - in particular absolute space. Chairs, desks, and buildings exist “in” space, but world-space is independent of such objects, much like absolute space “in which” things exist. However, Heidegger thinks that such a conception of space is an abstraction from the spatializing conduct of our everyday activities. The things that we deal with are near or far relative to us; according to Heidegger, this nearness or farness of things is how we first become familiar with that which we (later) represent to ourselves as "space." This familiarity is what renders the understanding of space (in a "container" metaphor or in any other way) possible. It is because we act spatially, going to places and reaching for things to use, that we can even develop a conception of abstract space at all. What we normally think of as space - world-space - turns out not to be what space fundamentally is; world-space is, in Heidegger's terminology, space conceived as vorhanden. It is an objectified space founded on a more basic space-of-action.
Since Heidegger thinks that space-of-action is the condition for world-space, he must explain the former without appealing to the latter. Heidegger's task then is to describe the space-of-action without presupposing such world-space and the derived concept of a system of spatial coordinates. However, this is difficult because all our usual linguistic expressions for describing spatial relations presuppose world-space. For example, how can one talk about the "distance between you and me" without presupposing some sort of metric, i.e., without presupposing an objective access to the relation? Our spatial notions such as "distance," "location," etc. must now be re-described from a standpoint within the spatial relation of self (Dasein) to the things dealt with. This problem is what motivates Heidegger to invent his own terminology and makes his discussion of space awkward. In what follows I will try to use ordinary language whenever possible to explain his principal ideas.
The space-of-action has two aspects: regions (space as Zuhandenheit) and Dasein's spatiality (space as Existentiale). The sort of space we deal with in our daily activity is "functional" or zuhanden, and Heidegger's term for it is "region." The places we work and live-the office, the park, the kitchen, etc.-all have different regions that organize our activities and contexualize “equipment.” My desk area as my work region has a computer, printer, telephone, books, etc., in their appropriate “places,” according to the spatiality of the way in which I work. Regions differ from space viewed as a "container"; the latter notion lacks a "referential" organization with respect to our context of activities. Heidegger wants to claim that referential functionality is an inherent feature of space itself, and not just a "human" characteristic added to a container-like space.
In our activity, how do we specifically stand with respect to functional space? We are not "in" space as things are, but we do exist in some spatially salient manner. What Heidegger is trying to capture is the difference between the nominal expression "we exist in space" and the adverbial expression "we exist spatially." He wants to describe spatiality as a mode of our existence rather than conceiving space as an independent entity. Heidegger identifies two features of Dasein's spatiality - "de-severance" (Ent-fernung) and "directionality" (Ausrichtung).
De-severance describes the way we exist as a process of spatial self-determination by “making things available” to ourselves. In Heidegger's language, in making things available we "take in space" by "making the farness vanish" and by "bringing things close"
We are not simply contemplative beings, but we exist through concretely acting in the world - by reaching for things and going to places. When I walk from my desk area into the kitchen, I am not simply changing locations from point A to B in an arena-like space, but I am “taking in space” as I move, continuously making the “farness” of the kitchen “vanish,” as the shifting spatial perspectives are opened as I go along.
This process is also inherently "directional." Every de-severing is aimed toward something or in a certain direction that is determined by our concern and by specific regions. I must always face and move in a certain direction that is dictated by a specific region. If I want to get a glass of ice tea, instead of going out into the yard, I face toward the kitchen and move in that direction, following the region of the hallway and the kitchen. Regions determine where things belong, and our actions are coordinated in directional ways accordingly.
De-severance, directionality, and regionality are three ways of describing the spatiality of a unified Being-in-the-world. As aspects of Being-in-the-world, these spatial modes of being are equiprimordial.9 10 Regions "refer" to our activities, since they are established by our ways of being and our activities. Our activities, in turn, are defined in terms of regions. Only through the region can our de-severance and directionality be established. Our object of concern always appears in a certain context and place, in a certain direction. It is because things appear in a certain direction and in their places “there” that we have our “here.” We orient ourselves and organize our activities, always within regions that must already be given to us.
Heidegger's analysis of space does not refer to temporal aspects of Being-in-the-world, even though they are presupposed. In the second half of Being and Time he explicitly turns to the analysis of time and temporality in a discussion that is significantly more complex than the earlier account of spatiality. Heidegger makes the following five distinctions between types of time and temporality: (1) the ordinary or "vulgar" conception of time; this is time conceived as Vorhandenheit. (2) world-time; this is time as Zuhandenheit. Dasein's temporality is divided into three types: (3) Dasein's inauthentic (uneigentlich) temporality, (4) Dasein's authentic (eigentlich) temporality, and (5) originary temporality or “temporality as such.” The analyses of the vorhanden and zuhanden modes of time are interesting, but it is Dasein's temporality that is relevant to our discussion, since it is this form of time that is said to be founding for space. Unfortunately, Heidegger is not clear about which temporality plays this founding role.
We can begin by excluding Dasein's inauthentic temporality. This mode of time refers to our unengaged, "average" way in which we regard time. It is the “past we forget” and the “future we expect,” all without decisiveness and resolute understanding. Heidegger seems to consider that this mode of temporality is the temporal dimension of de-severance and directionality, since de-severance and directionality deal only with everyday actions. As such, inauthentic temporality must itself be founded in an authentic basis of some sort. The two remaining candidates for the foundation are Dasein's authentic temporality and originary temporality.
Dasein's authentic temporality is the "resolute" mode of temporal existence. An authentic temporality is realized when Dasein becomes aware of its own finite existence. This temporality has to do with one's grasp of his or her own life as a whole from one's own unique perspective. Life gains meaning as one's own life-project, bounded by the sense of one's realization that he or she is not immortal. This mode of time appears to have a normative function within Heidegger's theory. In the second half of BT he often refers to inauthentic or "everyday" mode of time as lacking some primordial quality which authentic temporality possesses.
In contrast, to the originary temporality, for which the formal structure of Dasein's temporality itself is grounded to its spatial Being-in-the-world, Dasein also exists essentially as "projection." Projection is oriented toward the future, and this outcome orientation regulates our concern by constantly realizing various possibilities. Temporality is characterized formally as this dynamic structure of "a future that makes present in the process of having been." Heidegger calls the three moments of temporality - the future, the present, and the past - the three ecstasies of temporality. This mode of time is not normative but rather formal or neutral; as Blattner argues, the temporal features that constitute Dasein's temporality describe both inauthentic and authentic temporality.
There are some passages that indicate that authentic temporality is the primary manifestation of the temporality, because of its essential orientation toward the future. For instance, Heidegger states that "temporality first showed itself in anticipatory resoluteness." Elsewhere, he argues that "the ‘time’ which is accessible to Dasein's common sense is not primordial, but arises rather from authentic temporality." In these formulations, the authentic temporality is said to found other inauthentic modes. According to Blattner, this is "by far the most common" interpretation of the status of authentic time.
However, to ague with Blattner and Haar, in that there are far more passages where Heidegger considers an originary temporality as distinct from authentic temporality, and founding for it and for Being-in-the-world as well. Here are some examples: A temporality has different possibilities and different ways of temporalizing itself. The basic possibilities of existence, the authenticity and inauthenticity of Dasein, are grounded ontologically on possible temporalizations of the temporality. Time is primordial as the temporalizing of temporality, and as such it makes possible the Constitution of the structure of care.
Heidegger's conception seems to be that it is because we are fundamentally temporal - having the formal structure of ecstatic-horizontal unity - that we can project, authentically or in authentically, our concernful dealings in the world and exist as Being-in-the-world. It is on this account that temporality is said to found spatiality. Nicholson's first alternative offers a more consistent reading. The structure of temporality should be treated as an abstraction from Dasein's Being-in-the-world, specifically from care. In this case, the content of temporality is just the past and the present and the future ways of Being-in-the-world. Heidegger's own words support this reading: "as Dasein temporalizes itself, a world is too," and "the world is neither present-at-hand nor ready-to-hand, but temporalizes itself in temporality." He also states that the zuhanden "world-time, in the rigorous sense of the existential-temporal conception of the world, belongs to temporality itself." In this reading, "temporality temporalizing itself," "Dasein's projection," and "the temporal projection of the world" are three different ways of describing the same "happening" of Being-in-the-world, which Heidegger calls "self-directive."
However, if this is the case, then the temporality does not found spatiality, except perhaps in the trivial sense that spatiality is built into the notion of care that is identified with a temporality. The sustaining of "temporality temporalizing itself" simply is the various openings of regions, i.e., Dasein's "breaking into space." Certainly, as Stroeker points out, it is true that "nearness and remoteness are spatio-temporal phenomena and cannot be conceived without a temporal moment." But this necessity does not constitute a foundation. Rather, they are equiprimordial. The addition of temporal dimensions does indeed complete the discussion of spatiality, which abstracted from time. But this completion, while it better articulates the whole of Being-in-the-world, does not show that temporality is more fundamental.
If temporality and spatiality are equiprimordial, then all of the supposedly founding relations between temporality and spatiality could just as well be reversed and still hold true. Heidegger's view is that "because Dasein as temporality is ecstatic-horizontals in its Being, it can take along with it a space for which it has made room, and it can do so farcically and constantly." But if Dasein is essentially a factical projection, then the reverse should also be true. Heidegger appears to have assumed the priority of temporality over spatiality perhaps under the influence of Kant, Husserl, or Dilthey, and then based his analyses on that assumption.
However, there may still be a way to save Heidegger's foundational project in terms of authentic temporality. Heidegger never specifically mentions authentic temporality, since he suggests earlier that the primary manifestation of temporality is authentic temporality, such a reading may perhaps be justified. This reading would treat the whole spatio-temporal structure of Being-in-the-world. The resoluteness of authenticated temporality, arising out of Dasein's own "Being-towards-death," would supply a content to temporality above and beyond everyday involvements.
Heidegger is said to have its foundations in resoluteness, Dasein determines its own Situation through anticipatory resoluteness, which includes particular locations and involvements, i.e., the spatiality of Being-in-the-world. The same set of circumstances could be transformed into a new situation with different significance, if Dasein chooses resolutely to bring that about. An authentic temporality in this case can be said to found spatiality, since Dasein's spatiality is determined by resoluteness. This reading moreover enables Heidegger to construct a hierarchical relation between temporality and spatiality within Being-in-the-world rather than going outside of it to a formal transcendental principle, since the choice of spatiality is grasped phenomenologically in terms of the concrete experience of decision.
Moreover, one might argue that according to Heidegger one's own grasp of "death" is uniquely a temporal mode of existence, whereas there is no such weighty conception involving spatiality. Death is what compels Dasein to "stand before itself in its own most potentiality-for-Being." Authentic Being-towards-death is a "Being towards a possibility - indeed, towards a distinctive possibility of Dasein itself." One could argue that notions such as "potentiality" and "possibility" are distinctively temporal, nonspatial notions. So "Being-towards-death," as temporal, appears to be much more ontologically "fundamental" than spatiality.
However, Heidegger is not yet out of the woods. I believe that labelling the notions of anticipatory resoluteness, Being-towards-death, potentiality, and possibility specifically as temporal modes of being (to the exclusion of spatiality) begs the question. Given Heidegger's phenomenological framework, why assume that these notions are only temporal (without spatial dimensions)? If Being-towards-death, potentiality-for-Being, and possibility were "purely" temporal notions, what phenomenological sense can we make of such abstract conceptions, given that these are manifestly our modes of existence as bodily beings? Heidegger cannot have in mind such an abstract notion of time, if he wants to treat authentic temporality as the meaning of care. It would seem more consistent with his theoretical framework to say that Being-towards-death is a rich spatio-temporal mode of being, given that Dasein is Being-in-the-world.
Furthermore, the interpretation that defines resoluteness as uniquely temporal suggests too much of a voluntaristic or subjectivistic notion of the self that controls its own Being-in-the-world from the standpoint of its future. This would drive a wedge between the self and its Being-in-the-world, thereby creating a temporal "inner self" which can decide its own spatiality. However, if Dasein is Being-in-the-world as Heidegger claims, then all of Dasein's decisions should be viewed as concretely grounded in Being-in-the-world. If so, spatiality must be an essential constitutive element.
Hence, authentic temporality, if construed narrowly as the mode of temporality, at first appears to be able to found spatiality, but it also commits Heidegger either to an account of time that is too abstract, or to the notion of the self far more like Sartre's than his own. What is lacking in Heidegger's theory that generates this sort of difficulty is a developed conception of Dasein as a lived body - a notion more fully developed by Merleau-Ponty.
The elements of a more consistent interpretation of an authentic temporality are present in Being and Time. This interpretation incorporates a view of "authentic spatiality" in the notion of its authenticated temporality. This would be Dasein's resolutely grasping its own spatio-temporal finitude with respect to its place and its world. Dasein is born at a particular place, lives in a particular place, dies in a particular place, all of which it can by its relation to in an authenticated process. The place Dasein lives is not a place of anonymous involvements. The place of Dasein must be there where its own potentiality-for-Being is realized. Dasein's place is thus a determination of its existence. Had Heidegger developed such a conception more fully, he would have seen that temporality is equiprimordial with thoroughly spatial and contextual Being-in-the-world. They are distinguishable but equally fundamental ways of emphasizing our finitude.
The internalized tensions within his theory leads Heidegger to reconsider his own positions. In his later period, he explicitly develops what may be viewed as a conception of authentic spatiality. For instance, in "Building Dwelling Thinking," Heidegger states that Dasein's relations to locations and to spaces inheres in dwelling, and dwelling is the basic character of our Being. The notion of dwelling expresses an affirmation of spatial finitude. Through this affirmation one acquires a proper relation to one's environment.
But the idea of dwelling is in fact already discussed in Being and Time, regarding the term "Being-in-the-world," Heidegger explains that the word "in" is derived from "in-an" - to "reside," "habit are," "to dwell." The emphasis on "dwelling" highlights the essentially "worldly" character of the self.
Thus from the beginning Heidegger had a conception of spatial finitude, but this fundamental insight was undeveloped because of his ambition to carry out the foundational project that favoured time. From the 1930's on, as Heidegger abandons the foundational project focussing on temporality, the conception of authentic spatiality comes to the fore. For example, in Discourse on Thinking Heidegger considers the spatial character of Being as "that-which-regions (die Gegnet)." The peculiar expression is a re-conceptualization of the notion of "region" as it appeared in Being and Time. Region is given an active character and defined as the "openness that surrounds us" which "comes to meet us." By giving it an active character, Heidegger wants to emphasize that region is not brought into being by us, but rather exists in its own right, as that which expresses our spatial existence. Heidegger states that "one needs to understand ‘resolve’ (Entschlossenheit) as it is understood in Being and Time: as the opening of man [Dasein] particularly undertaken by him for openness, . . . which we think of as that-which-regions." Here Heidegger is asserting an authentic conception of spatiality. The finitude expressed in the notion of Being-in-the-world is thus transformed into an authentic recognition of our finite worldly existence in later writings.
The return to the conception of spatial finitude in the later period shows that Heidegger never abandoned the original insight behind his conception of Being-in-the-world. But once committed to this idea, it is hard to justify singling out an aspect of the self -temporality - as the foundation for the rest of the structure. All of the Existentiale and zuhanden modes, which constitute the whole of Being-in-the-world, are equiprimordial, each mode articulating different aspects of a unified whole. The preference for temporality as the privileged meaning of existence reflects the Kantian residue in Heidegger's early doctrine that he later rejected as still excessively subjectivistic.
Meanwhile, it seems that it is nonetheless, natural to combine this close connection with conclusions by proposing an account of self-consciousness, as to the capacity to think “I”-thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification, though misidentification varies with the semantics of the “self” - this would be a redundant account of self-consciousness. Once we have an account of what it is to be capable of thinking “I”-thoughts, we will have explained everything distinctive about self-consciousness. It stems from the thought that what is distinctive about “I”-thoughts are that they are either themselves immune to error or they rest on further “I” -Thoughts that are immune in that way.
Once we have an account of what it is to be capable of thinking thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification, we will have explained everything about the capacity to think “I”-thoughts. As it would to claim of deriving from the thought that immunity to error through misidentification depends on the semantics of the “self.”
Once, again, that when we have an account of the semantics in that we will have explained everything distinctive about the capacity to think thoughts that are immune to error through misidentification.
The suggestion is that the semantics of “self-ness” will explain what is distinctive about the capacity to think thoughts immune to error through misidentification. Semantics alone cannot be expected to explain the capacity for thinking thoughts. The point in fact, that all that there is to the capacity of think thoughts that are immune tp error is the capacity to think the sort of thought whose natural linguistic expression involves the “self,” where this capacity is given by mastery of the semantics of “self-ness.” Yielding, to explain what it is to master the semantics of “self-ness,” especially to think thoughts immune to error through misidentification.
On this view, the mastery of the semantics of “self-ness” may be construed as for the single most important explanation in a theory of “self-consciousness.”
Its quickened reformulation might be put to a defender of “redundancy” or the deflationary theory is how mastery of the semantics of “self-ness” can make sense of the distinction between “self-ness contents” that are immune to error through misidentification and the “self contents” that lack such immunity. However, this is only an apparent difficulty when one remembers that those of the “selves” content is immune to error through misidentification, because, those employing ‘”I” as object, were able in having to break down their component elements. The identification component and the predication components that for which if the composite identification components of each are of such judgements that mastery of the semantics of “self-regulatory” content must be called upon to explain. Identification component are, of course, immune to error through misidentification.
It is also important to stress how the redundancy and the deflationary theory of self-consciousness, and any theory of self-consciousness that accords a serious role in self-consciousness to mastery of the semantics of the “self-ness,” are motivated by an important principle that has governed much of the development of analytical philosophy. The principle is the principle that the analysis of thought can only continue thought, the philosophical analysis of language such that we communicate thoughts by means of language because we have an implicit understanding of the workings of language, that is, of the principle governing the use of language: It is these principles, which relate to what is open to view and mind other that via the medium of language, which endow our sentences with the senses that they carry. In order to analyse thought, therefore, it is necessary to make explicitly those principles, regulating our use of language, which we already implicitly grasp.
Still, at the core of the notion of broad self-consciousness is the recognition of what consciousness is the recognition of what developmental psychologist’s call “self-world dualism.” Any subject properly described as self-conscious must be able to register the distinction between himself and the world, of course, this is a distinction that can be registered in a variety of way. The capacity for self-ascription of thoughts and experiences, in combination with the capacity to understand the world as a spatial and causally structured system of mind-independent objects, is a high-level way of registering of this distinction.
Consciousness of objects is closely related to sentience and to being awake. It is (at least) being in somewhat of a distinct informational and behavioural intention where its responsive state is for one's condition as played within the immediateness of environmental surroundings. It is the ability, for example, to process and act responsively to information about food, friends, foes, and other items of relevance. One finds consciousness of objects in creatures much less complex than human beings. It is what we (at any rate first and primarily) have in mind when we say of some person or animal as it is coming out of general anaesthesia, ‘It is regaining consciousness’ as consciousness of objects is not just any form of informational access to the world, but the knowing about and being conscious of, things in the world.
We are conscious of our representations when we are conscious, not (just) of some object, but of our representations: ‘I am seeing [as opposed to touching, smelling, tasting] and seeing clearly [as opposed too dimly].’ Consciousness of our own representations it is the ability to process and act responsively to information about oneself, but it is not just any form of such informational access. It is knowing about, being conscious of, one's own psychological states. In Nagel's famous phrase (1974), when we are conscious of our representations, it is ‘like something’ to have them. If, that which seems likely, there are forms of consciousness that do not involve consciousness of objects, they might consist in consciousness of representations, though some theorists would insist that this kind of consciousness be not of representations either (via representations, perhaps, but not of them).
The distinction just drawn between consciousness of objects and consciousness of our representations of objects may seem similar to Form's (1995) contributes of a well-known distinction between P- [phenomenal] and A- [access] consciousness. Here is his definition of ‘A-consciousness’: "A state is A-conscious if it is poised for direct control of thought and action." He tells us that he cannot define ‘P-consciousness’ in any "remotely non-circular way" but will use it to refer to what he calls "experiential properties,” what it is like to have certain states. Our consciousness of objects may appear to be like A-consciousness. It is not, however, it is a form of P-consciousness. Consciousness of an object is - how else can we put it? - consciousness of the object. Even if consciousness is just informational excess of a certain kind (something that Form would deny), it is not all form of informational access and we are talking about conscious access here. Recall the idea that it is like something to have a conscious state. Other closely related ideas are that in a conscious state, something appears to one, that conscious states have a ‘felt quality’. A term for all this is phenomenology: Conscious states have a phenomenology. (Thus some philosophers speak of phenomenal consciousness here.) We could now state the point we are trying to make this way. If I am conscious of an object, then it is like something to have that object as the content of a representation.
Some theorists would insist that this last statement be qualified. While such a representation of an object may provide everything that a representation has to have for its contents to be like something to me, they would urge, something more is needed. Different theorists would add different elements. For some, I would have to be aware, not just of the object, but of my representation of it. For others, I would have directorial implications that infer of the certain attentive considerations to its way or something other than is elsewhere. We cannot go into this controversy here. As, we are merely making the point that consciousness of objects is more than Form's A-consciousness.
Consciousness self involves, not just consciousness of states that it is like something to have, but consciousness of the thing that has them, i.e., of ones-self. It is the ability to process and act responsively to information about oneself, but again it is more than that. It is knowing about, being conscious of, oneself, indeed of itself as itself. And consciousness of oneself in this way it is often called consciousness of self as the subject of experience. Consciousness of oneself as oneself seems to require indexical adeptness and by preference to a special indexical ability at that, not just an ability to pick out something out but to pick something out as oneself. Human beings have such self-referential indexical ability. Whether any other creatures have, it is controversial. The leading nonhuman candidate would be chimpanzees and other primates whom they have taught enough language to use first-person pronouns.
The literature on consciousness sometimes fails to distinguish consciousness of objects, consciousness of one's own representations, and consciousness of self, or treat one three, usually consciousness of one's own representations, as actualized of its owing totality in consciousness. (Conscious states do not have objects, yet is not consciousness of a representation either. We cannot pursue that complication here.) The term ‘conscious’ and cognates are ambiguous in everyday English. We speak of someone regaining consciousness - where we mean simple consciousness of the world. Yet we also say things like, She was haphazardly conscious of what motivated her to say that - where we do not mean that she lacked either consciousness of the world or consciousness of self but rather than she was not conscious of certain things about herself, specifically, certain of her own representational states. To understand the unity of consciousness, making these distinctions is important. The reason is this: the unity of consciousness takes a different form in consciousness of self than it takes in either consciousness of one's own representations or consciousness of objects.
So what is unified consciousness? As we said, the predominant form of the unity of consciousness is being aware of several things at the same time. Intuitively, this is the notion of several representations being aspects of a single encompassing conscious state. A more informative idea can be gleaned from the way philosophers have written about unified consciousness. As emerging from what they have said, the central feature of unified consciousness is taken to be something like this unity of consciousness: A group of representational relations related to each other that to be conscious of any of them is to be conscious of others of them and of the group of them as a single group.
In order for science to be rigorous, Husserl claimed that mind must ‘intend’ itself as subject and also all its ‘means’. The task of philosophy, also, is so, that in to substantiate that science is, in fact, rigorous by clearly distinguishing, naming, and taxonomizing phenomena. What William James termed the stream of consciousness was dubbed by Husserl the system of experience. Recognizing, as James did, that consciousness is contiguous, Husserl eventually concluded that any single mental phenomenon is a moving horizon receding in all directions at once toward all other phenomena.
Interesting enough, this created an epistemological dilemma that became pervasive in the history of postmodern philosophy. the dilemma is such that if mind ‘intends’ itself as subject and objects within this mind are moving in all directions toward all other objects, how can any two minds objectively agree that they are referring to the same object? The followers of Husserl concluded that this was not possible, therefore, the prospect that two minds can objectively or inter-subjectively know the same truth is annihilated.
Ever so, that it is ironic, least of mention, that Husserl’s attempt to establish a rigorous basis for science in human consciousness served to reinforce Nietzsche’s claim that truths are evolving fictions that exist only in the subjective reality of single individuals. And it also massively reinforced the stark Cartesian division between mind and world by seeming to legitimate the view that logic and mathematical systems reside only in human subjectivity and, therefore, that there is no real or necessary correspondence of physical theories with physical reality. These views would later be embarked by Ludwig Wittgenstein and Jean-Paul Sartre.
One of Nietzsche’s fundamental contentions was that traditional value (represented primarily by Christianity) had lost their power in the lives of individuals. He expressed this in his proclamation “God is dead.” He was convinced that traditional values represented “slave morality,” such that it was the characterological underpinning with which succeed too weakly and resentful individually created morality. Who encouraged such behaviour as gentleness and kindness because the behaviour served their interests?
By way of introducing some of Nietzsche’s written literature, which it may as such, by inclination alone be attributively contributive that all aspiration’s are in fact the presentation of their gestural point reference. A few salient points that empower Nietzsche as the “great critic” of that tradition, in so that by some meaningfully implication, is to why this critique is potentially so powerful and yet as provocative by statements concerting the immediacy of its topic.
Although enwrapped in shrouds his guising shadow that which we can identify Nietzsche in a decisive challenge to the past, from one point of view there should be nothing too remarkably new about what Nietzsche is doing, least of mention, his style of doing so is very intriguing yet distinctive. For him, undertaking to characterized methods of analysis and criticism, under which we should feel quite familiar with, just as the extracted forms of familiarity are basic throughout which contextual matters of representation have previously been faced. He is encouraging as a new possibility for our lives of a program that has strong and obvious roots in certain forms of Romanticism. Thus, is to illustrate how the greater burden of tradition, as he is deeply connected to categorical priorities as in the finding that considerations for which create tradition.
Irish philosopher and clergyman George Berkeley set out to challenge what he saw as the atheism and skepticism inherent in the prevailing philosophy of the early 18th century. His initial publications, which asserted that no objects or matter existed outside the human mind, were met with disdain by the London intelligentsia of the day. Berkeley aimed to explain his “Immaterialist” theory, part of the school of thought known as idealism.
The German philosopher Immanuel Kant tried to solve the crisis generated by Locke and brought to a climax by Hume; his proposed solution combined elements of rationalism with elements of empiricism. He agreed with the rationalists that one can have an exact and certain opening for knowledge, but he followed the empiricists in holding that such knowledge is more informative about the structure of thought than about the worlds’ outside thought. He distinguished three kinds of knowledge, analytical deductions, for which is exact and certain but uninformative, because it makes clear only what is contained in definitions; Synthetic empirically, which conveys information about the world learned from experience, but is subject to the errors of the senses. Theoretical synthetics, which are discovered by pure intuitive certainty, are both exact and understanding. Its expressions are the necessary conditions that the mind imposes on all objects of experience. Mathematics and philosophy, according to Kant, provide this last. Since the time of Kant, one of the most frequently argued questions in philosophy has been whether or not such a thing as theoretic synthetical knowledge really exists.
Because of the diversity of positions associated with existentialism, the term is impossible to define precisely. Certain themes common to nearly all existentialist writers can, however, be identified. The term itself suggests one major theme: the stress on concrete individual existence and, consequently, on subjectivity, individual freedom, and choice.
Most philosophers since Plato have held that the highest ethical good are the same for everyone; as far as one is to approach moral perfection, one resembles other morally perfect individuals. The 19th-century Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, who was the first writer to call himself existential, reacted against this tradition by insisting that the highest good for the individual are to find his or her own unique vocation. As he wrote in his journal, “I must find a truth that is true for me . . . the idea for which I can live or die.” Other existentialist writers have echoed Kierkegaard's belief that one must choose one's own way without the aid of universal, objective standards. Against the traditional view that moral choice involves an objective judgment of right and wrong, existentialists have argued that no objective, rational basis can be found for moral decisions. The 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche additionally contended with an individuality that must define for which situations are to count as moral situations.
All existentialists have followed Kierkegaard in stressing the importance of passionate individual action in deciding questions of both morality and truth. They have insisted, accordingly, that personal experience and acting on one's own convictions are essential in arriving at the truth. Thus, the understanding of a situation by someone involved in that situation is superior to that of a detached, objective observer. This emphasis on the perspective of the individual agent has also made existentialists suspicious of systematic reasoning. Kierkegaard, and other existentialist writers have been deliberately unsystematic in the exposition of their philosophies, preferring to express themselves in aphorisms, dialogues, parables, and other literary forms. Despite their antirationalist position, however, most existentialists cannot be said to be irrationalists in the sense of denying all validity to rational thought. They have held that rational clarity is desirable wherever possible, but that the most important questions in life are not accessible for reason and the accessible knowledge as cohered by supporting structures of scientific understanding, in that they have argued that even science is not as rational as is commonly supposed. For instance, asserted that the scientific assumption of an orderly universe is for the most part a worthwhile rationalization.
Perhaps the most prominent theme in existentialist writing is that of choice. Humanity's primary distinction, in the view of most existentialists, is the freedom to choose. Existentialists have held that human beings do not have a fixed nature, or essence, as other animals and plants do: Yet, to every human that make choices that create his or her own natures embark upon the dogma that which, in its gross effect, formulates his or hers existential decision of choice. That if, one might unduly sway to consider in having to embody the influences that persuade one’s own self to frowardly acknowledge the fact of an existence that precedes the idealization pertaining to its essences. Choice is therefore central to human existence, and it is inescapable; even the refusal to choose is a choice. Freedom of choice entails commitment and responsibility. Because individuals are free to choose their own path, existentialists have argued, they must accept the risk and responsibility of following their commitment wherever it leads.
Kierkegaard held that recognizing that one experience is spiritually crucial not only a fear of specific objects but also a feeling of general apprehension, which he called dread. He interpreted it as God's way of calling each individual to agree to a personally valid way of life. The word anxiety (German Angst) has a similarly crucial role in the work of the 20th-century German philosopher Martin Heidegger - anxiety leads to the individual's confrontation with nothingness and with the impossibility of finding ultimate justification for the choices he or she must make. In the philosophy of Sartre, the word nausea is used for the individual's recognition of the pure contingency of the universe, and the word anguish is used for the recognition of the total freedom of choice that confronts the individual at every moment.
Existentialism as a distinct philosophical and literary movement belongs to the 19th and 20th centuries. However, elements of existentialism can be found in the thought (and life) of Socrates, in the Bible, and in the work of many pre-modern philosophers and writers.
The first to anticipate the major concerns of modern existentialism was the 17th-century French philosopher Blaise Pascal. Pascal rejected the rigorous rationalism of his contemporary René Descartes, asserting, in his Pensées (1670), that a systematic philosophy that presumes to explain God and humanity is a form of pride. Like later existentialist writers, he saw human life as for paradoxes: The human self, which combines mind and body, is itself a paradox and contradiction.
Nineteenth-century Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard played a major role in the development of existentialist thought. Kierkegaard criticized the popular systematic method of rational philosophy advocated by German Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel. He emphasized the absurdity inherent in human life and questioned how any systematic philosophy could apply to the ambiguous human condition. In Kierkegaard’s deliberately unsystematic works, he explained that each individual should attempt an intense examination of his or her own existence.
Kierkegaard, generally regarded as the founder of modern existentialism, reacted against the systematic absolute idealism of the 19th-century German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, who claimed to have worked out a total rational understanding of humanity and history. Kierkegaard, on the contrary, stressed the ambiguity and absurdity of the human situation. The individual's response to this situation must be to live a totally committed life, and this commitment can only be understood by the individual who has made it. The individual, therefore, must always be prepared to defy the norms, least of mention, for which any if not all sociological associations that bring of some orientation, that for the sake of the higher persuasion brings the possible that implicate of a personally respective way of life. Kierkegaard ultimately advocated a “leap of faith” into a Christian way of life, which, although hard to grasp and fully in the risk of which was the only commitment he believed could save the individual from despair.
Danish religious philosopher Søren Kierkegaard rejected the all-encompassing, analytical philosophical systems of such 19th-century thinkers as German philosopher G.W.F. Hegel. Instead, Kierkegaard focussed on the choices the individual must make in all aspects of his or her life, especially the choice to maintain religious faith. The literaturized work of Fear and Trembling, 1846 and translated, 1941, Kierkegaard explored the conceptual representations of faith through which an examination of the biblical story of Abraham and Isaac, under which God demanded that Abraham show by his proving of faith by sacrificing his son.
One of the most controversial works of 19th-century philosophy, Thus Spake Zarathustra (1883-1885) articulated through Friedrich Nietzsche’s theory of the Übermensch, a term translated as “Superman” or “Overman.” The Superman was an individual who overcame what termed the “slave morality” of traditional values, and lived according to his own morality. Who also advanced his idea that “God is dead,” or that traditional morality was no longer relevant in people’s lives. In the sage Zarathustra came down from the mountain where he had spent the last ten years alone to preach to the people.
Nietzsche, who was not conversant with the functional dynamics that were the contributive peculiarities for which their premise is attributable to Kierkegaard. The influence of the subsequential existentialist thought, only through his criticism of traditional metaphysical and moral assumptions and through his espousal of tragic pessimism and the life-affirming individual will that opposes itself to the moral conformity of the majority. In contrast to Kierkegaard, whose attack on conventional morality led him to advocate a radically individualistic Christianity, proclaimed the “death of God” and went on to reject the entire Judeo-Christian moral tradition in favour of a heroic pagan ideal.
The “will” (philosophy and psychology), is the capacity to choose among alternative courses of action and to act on the choice made, particularly when the action is directed toward a specific goal or is governed by definite ideals and principles of conduct? Bestowing the consignment of willed behaviour contrasts with behaviour stemming from instinct, impulse, reflex, or habit, none, of which involves conscious choice among alternatives. Again, a consigning of willed behaviour contrasts with the vacillations manifested by alternating choices among conflicting alternatives.
Until the 20th century most philosophers conceived the will as a separate faculty with which every person is born. They differed, however, about the role of this faculty in the personality makeup. For one school of philosophers, most notably represented by the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, universal will-power is the primary reality, and the individual's will forms part of it. In his view, the will dominates every other aspect of an individual's personality, knowledge, feelings, and direction in life. A contemporary form of Schopenhauer's theory is implicit in some forms of existentialism, such as the existentialist view expressed by the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, which regards personality as the desire to action, and actions as they are the manifestations of the will for which gives meaning to the universe.
Most other philosophers have regarded the will as coequal or secondary to other aspects of personality. Plato believed that the psyche is divided into three parts: Reason, will, and desire, for rationalist philosophers, such as Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, and René Descartes. The will is the agent of the rational soul in governing purely animal appetites and passions. Some empirical philosophers, such as David Hume, discount the importance of rational influences upon the will; They think of the will as ruled mainly by emotion. Evolutionary philosophers, such as Herbert Spencer, and pragmatist philosophers, such as John Dewey, conceive the will not as an innate faculty but as a product of experience evolving gradually as the mind and personality of the individual development in social interaction.
Modern psychologists tend to accept the pragmatic theory of the will. They regard the will as an aspect or quality of behaviour, than as a separate faculty. It is the whole person who wills. This act of willing is manifested by (1) the fixing of attention on distant goals and abstract standards and principles of conduct; (2) the weighing of alternative courses of action and the taking of deliberate action that seems best calculated serving specific goals and principles; (3) the inhibition of impulses and habits that might distract attention from, or otherwise conflict with, a goal or principle; and (4) perseverance against deterrents and the obstruction, that within one’s pursuit of goals or adherence is given into the characteristic principles.
The modern philosophy movements of phenomenology and existentialism have been greatly influenced by the thought of German philosopher Martin Heidegger. According to Heidegger, humankind has fallen into a crisis by taking a narrow, technological approach to the world and by ignoring the larger question of existence. People, if they wish to live authentically, must broaden their perspectives. Instead of taking their existence for granted, people should view themselves as part of Being (Heidegger's term for that which underlies all existence).
Heidegger, like Pascal and Kierkegaard, reacted against an attempt to put philosophy on a conclusive rationalistic basis - as Max Scheler (1874-1928), the German social and religious philosopher, whose work reflected the influence of the phenomenology of his countryman Edmund Husserl. Born in Munich, Scheler taught at the universities of Jena, Munich, and Cologne. In The Nature of Sympathy, 1913 translated 1970, he applied Husserl's method of detailed phenomenological description to the social emotions that relate human beings to one another - especially love and hate. This book was followed by his most famous work, Formalism in Ethics and Non-Formal Ethics of Values, 1913, and translated 1973, a two-volume study of ethics in which he criticized the formal ethical approach of the German philosopher Immanuel Kant and substituted for it a study of specific values as they directly present themselves to consciousness. Scheler converted to Roman Catholicism in 1920 and wrote On the Eternal in Man, 1921 and translated 1960, to justify his conversion, followed by an important study of the sociology of knowledge, Die Wissensformen und die Gesellschaft (Forms of Knowledge and Society, 1926). Later he rejected Roman Catholicism and developed a philosophy, based on science, in which all abstract knowledge and religious values are considered sublimations of basic human drives. This is presented in his last book, The Place of Man in the Universe, 1928 translated 1961.
Phenomenology of the 20th-century German philosopher Edmund Husserl. Heidegger argued that humanity finds itself in an incomprehensible and indifferent world. Human beings can never hope to understand why they are here; Instead, each individual must choose a goal and follow it with passionate conviction, aware of the certainty of death and the ultimate meaninglessness of one's life. Heidegger contributed to existentialist thought an original emphasis on Being and ontology and on language.
The subjects treated in Aristotle's Metaphysics (substance, causality, the nature of being, and the existence of God) fixed the content of metaphysical speculation for centuries. Among the medieval Scholastic philosophers, metaphysics were known as the “transphysical science” on the assumption that, by means of it, the scholar philosophically could make the transition from the physical world to a world beyond sense perception. The 13th-century Scholastic philosopher and theologian St. Thomas Aquinas declared that the cognition of God, through a causal study of finite sensible beings, was the aim of metaphysics. With the rise of scientific study in the 16th century the reconciliation of science and faith in God became an increasingly important problem.
The Irish-born philosopher and clergyman George Berkeley (1685-1753) argued that everything, that human beings were to conceive of exists as an idea in a mind, a philosophical focus that is idealism. Berkeley reasoned that because one cannot control one’s thoughts, they must come directly from a larger mind: That of God. In his treatise, Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, written in 1710, Berkeley explained why he believed that it is “impossible . . . that there should be any such thing as an outward object.”
Before the time of the German philosopher Immanuel Kant’s metaphysics was characterized by a tendency to construct theories based on deductive knowledge, that is, knowledge derived from reason alone, in the contradistinction to empirical knowledge, which is gained by reference to the facts of experience. From theoretical knowledge were deduced general propositions held to be true of all things. The method of inquiry based on deductive principles is known as rationalistic. This method may be subdivided into monism, which holds that the universe is made up of a single fundamental substance: Dualism, is nonetheless, the belief in two such substances, and pluralism, which proposes the existence of many fundamental substances.
In the 5th and 4th centuries Bc, Plato postulated the existence of a realm of Ideas that the varied objects of common experience imperfectly reflect. He maintained that these ideal Forms are not only more clearly intelligible but also more real than the transient and essentially illusory objects themselves.
George Berkeley is considered the founder of idealism, the philosophical view that all physical objects are dependent on the mind for their existence. According to Berkeley's early 18th-century writing, an object such as a table exists only if a mind is perceiving it. Therefore, objects are ideas.
Berkeley speculated that all aspects of everything of which one is conscious are reducible to the ideas present in the mind. The observer does not conjure external objects into existence, however, the true ideas of them are caused in the human mind directly by God. Eighteenth-century German philosopher Immanuel Kant greatly refined idealism through his critical inquiry into what he believed to be the limit of possible knowledge. Kant held that all that can be known of things is the way in which they appear in experience, there is no way of knowing what they are substantially in themselves. He also held, however, that the fundamental principles of all science are essentially grounded in the constitution of the mind than being derived from the external world.
George Berkeley, argued, that all naturalized associations brought upon the human being to conceive of existent and earthly ideas within the mind, a philosophical focus that is known as idealism.
Trying to develop an all-encompassing philosophical system, German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel wrote on topics ranging from logic and history to art and literature. He considered art to be one of the supreme developments of spiritual and absolute knowledge, surpassed only by religion and philosophy. In his excerpt from Introductory Lectures on Aesthetics, which were based on lectures that Hegel delivered between 1820 and 1829, Hegel discussed the relationship of poetry to other arts, particularly music, and explained that poetry was one mode of expressing the “Idea of beauty” that Hegel believed resided in all art forms. For Hegel, poetry was “the universal realization of the art of the mind.”
Nineteenth-century German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel disagreed with Kant's theory concerning the inescapable human ignorance of what things are in themselves, instead arguing for the ultimate intelligibility of all existence. Hegel also maintained that the highest achievements of the human spirit (culture, science, religion, and the state) are not the result of naturally determined processes in the mind, but are conceived and sustained by the dialectical activity.
Hegel applied the term dialectic to his philosophic system. Hegel believed that the evolution of ideas occurs through a dialectical process - that is, a conceptual lead to its opposite, and because of this conflict, a third view, the synthesis, arises. The synthesis is at a higher level of truth than the first two views. Hegel's work is based on the idealistic conceptualized representation of a universal mind that, through evolution, seeks to arrive at the highest level of self-awareness and freedom.
German political philosopher Karl Marx applied the conceptualize representation of dialectic social and economic processes. Marx's so-called dialectical materialism, frequently considered a revision of the Hegelian, dialectic of free, reflective intellect. Additional strains of idealistic thought can be found in the works of 19th-century Germans Johann Gottlieb Fichte and F.W.J. Schelling, 19th-century Englishman F.H. Bradley, 19th-century Americans Charles Sanders Peirce and Josiah Royce, and 20th-century Italian Benedetto Croce.
The monists, agreeing that only one basic substance exists, differ in their descriptions of its principal characteristic. Thus, in idealistic monism the substance is believed to be purely mental; in materialistic monism it is held to be purely physical, and in neutral monism it is considered neither exclusively mental nor solely physical. The idealistic position was held by the Irish philosopher George Berkeley, the materialistic by the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes, and the neutral by the Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza. The latter expounded a pantheistic view of reality in which the universe is identical with God and everything contains God's substance.
George Berkeley set out to challenge what he saw as the atheism and skepticism inherent in the prevailing philosophy of the early 18th century. His initial publications, which asserted that no objects or matter existed outside the human mind, were met with disdain by the London intelligentsia of the day. Berkeley aimed to explain his “Immaterial ist” theory, part of the school of thought known as idealism, to a more general audience in Three Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous (1713).
The most famous exponent of dualism was the French philosopher René Descartes, who maintained that body and mind are radically different entities and that they are the only fundamental substances in the universe. Dualism, however, does not show how these basic entities are connected.
In the work of the German philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, the universe is held to consist of many distinct substances, or monads. This view is pluralistic in the sense that it proposes the existence of many separate entities, and it is monistic in its assertion that each monad reflects within itself the entire universe.
Other philosophers have held that knowledge of reality is not derived from some deductive principles, but is obtained only from experience. This type of metaphysic is called empiricism. Still another school of philosophy has maintained that, although an ultimate reality does exist, it is altogether inaccessible to human knowledge, which is necessarily subjective because it is confined to states of mind. Knowledge is therefore not a representation of external reality, but merely a reflection of human perceptions. This, nonetheless, is basically known as skepticism or agnosticism, in that their appreciation of the soul and the reality of God.
Immanuel Kant had circulated his thesis on, The Critique of Pure Reason in 1781. Three years later he expanded on his study of the modes of thinking with an essay entitled “What is Enlightenment?” In this 1784 essay, Kant challenged readers to “dare to know,” arguing that it was not only a civic but also a moral duty to exercise the fundamental freedoms of thought and expression.
Several major viewpoints were combined in the work of Kant, who developed a distinctive critical philosophy called Transcendentalism. His philosophy is agnostic in that it denies the possibility of a strict knowledge of ultimate reality; it is empirical in that it affirms that all knowledge arises from experience and is true of objects of actual and possible experience and it is rationalistic in that it maintains the deductive character of the structural principles of this empirical knowledge.
These principles are held to be necessary and universal in their application to experience, for in Kant's view the mind furnishes the archetypal forms and categories (space, time, causality, substance, and relation) to its sensations, and these categories are logically anterior to experience, although manifested only in experience. Their logical anteriority to comprehend an experience only makes these categories or structural principle’s transcendental. They transcend all experience, both actual and possible. Although these principles determine all experience, they do not in any way affect the nature of things in themselves. The knowledge of which these principles are the necessary conditions must not be considered, therefore, as constituting a revelation of things as they are in themselves. This knowledge concerns things only as far as they appear to human perception or as they can be apprehended by the senses. The argument by which Kant sought to fix the limits of human knowledge within the framework of experience and to demonstrate the inability of the human mind to penetrate beyond experience strictly by knowledge to the realm of ultimate reality makes up the critical feature of his philosophy, giving the key word to the titles of his three leading treatises, Critique of Pure Reason, Critique of Practical Reason, and Critique of Judgment. In the system propounded in these works, Kant sought also to reconcile science and religion in a world of two levels, comprising noumena, objects conceived by reason although not perceived by the senses, and phenomena, things as they appear to the senses and are accessible to material study. He maintained that, because God, freedom, and human immortality are noumenal realities, these conceptualized understandings were brought through the moral faith than through scientific knowledge. With the continuous development of science, the expansion of metaphysics to include scientific knowledge and methods became one of the major objectives of metaphysicians.
Some of Kant's most distinguished followers, notably Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Friedrich Schelling, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, and Friedrich Schleiermacher, negated Kant's criticism in their elaborations of his transcendental metaphysics by denying the Kantian conception of the thing-in-itself. They thus developed an absolute idealism opposing Kant's critical transcendentalism.
Since the formation of the hypothesis of absolute idealism, the development of metaphysics has resulted in as many types of metaphysical theory as existed in pre-Kantian philosophy, despite Kant's contention that he had fixed definitely the limits of philosophical speculation. Notable among these later metaphysical theories is radical empiricism, or pragmatism, a native American form of metaphysics expounded by Charles Sanders Peirce, developed by William James, and adapted as instrumentalism by John Dewey; voluntarism, the foremost exponents of which are the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer and the American philosopher Josiah Royce; phenomenalism, as it is exemplified in the writings of the French philosopher Auguste Comte and the British philosopher Herbert Spencer, emergent evolution, or creative evolution, originated by the French philosopher Henri Bergson; and the philosophy of the organism, elaborated by the British mathematician and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead. The salient doctrines of pragmatism are that the chief function of thought is to guide action, that the meaning of concepts is to be sought in their practical applications, and that truth should be tested by the practical effects of belief; According to instrumentalism, ideas are instruments of action, and their truth is determined by their role in human experience. In the theory of voluntarism suspects that Will is postulated as the supreme manifestation of reality. The exponents of phenomenalism, who are sometimes called positivists, contend that everything can be analysed in actual or possible occurrences, or phenomena, and that anything that cannot be analysed in this manner cannot be understood. In emergent or creative evolution, the evolutionary process is characterized as spontaneous and unpredictable than mechanistically determined. The philosophy of the organism combines an evolutionary stress on constant process with a metaphysical theory of God, the eternal objects, and creativity.
In the 20th century the validity of metaphysical thinking has been disputed by the logical positivists and by the so-called dialectical materialism of the Marxists. The basic principle maintained by the logical positivists is the verifiability theory of meaning. According to this theory, a sentence has factual meaning only if it meets the test of observation. Logical positivists argue that metaphysical expressions such as “Nothing exists except material particles” and “Everything is part of one all-encompassing spirit” cannot be tested empirically. Therefore, according to the verifiability theory of meaning, these expressions have no factual cognitive meaning, although they can have an emotive meaning about human hopes and feelings.
The dialectical materialists assert that the mind is conditioned by and reflects material reality. Therefore, speculations that conceive of constructs of the mind as having any other than material reality are themselves strangling unreal and can result only in delusion. To these assertions metaphysicians reply by denying the adequacy of the verifiability theory of meaning and of material perception as the standard of reality. Both logical positivism and dialectical materialism, they argue, conceal metaphysical assumptions, for example, that everything is observable or at least connected with something observable and that the mind has no distinctive life of its own. In the philosophical movement known as existentialism, thinkers have contended that the questions of the nature of being and of the individual's relationship to it are extremely important and meaningful concerning human life. The investigation of these questions is therefore considered valid of whether or not its results can be verified objectively.
Since the 1950s the problems of systematic analytical metaphysics have been studied in Britain by Stuart Newton Hampshire and Peter Frederick Strawson, the former concerned, in the manner of Spinoza, with the relationship between thought and action, and the latter, in the manner of Kant, with describing the major categories of experience as they are embedded in language. In the United States, metaphysics have been pursued much in the spirit of positivism by Wilfred Stalker Sellars and Willard Van Orman Quine, wherefore Sellars has aspired to express metaphysical questions in linguistic terms, and Quine has attempted to decide whether the structure of language commits the philosopher to asserting the existence of any entities whatever and, if so, what kind. In these new formulations the issues of metaphysics and ontology remain vital.
Twentieth-century French intellectual Jean-Paul Sartre helped to develop existential philosophy through his writings, novels, and plays. Considerable amounts of Sartre’s workings focuses on the dilemma of choice faced by free individuals and on the challenge of creating meaning by acting responsibly in an indifferent world. In stating that “man is condemned to be free,” Sartre reminds us of the responsibility that accompanies human decisions.
Sartre first gave the term existentialism general currency by using it for his own philosophy and by becoming the leading figure of a distinct movement in France that became internationally influential after World War II. Sartre's philosophy is explicitly atheistic and pessimistic; He declared that human beings require a rational basis for their lives but are unable to achieve one, and thus human life is a “futile passion.” Sartre nevertheless, insisted that his existentialism be a form of humanism, and he strongly emphasized human freedom, choice, and responsibility. He eventually tried to reconcile these existentialist concepts with a Marxist analysis of society and history. Because, for Heidegger, one is what one does in the world, a phenomenological reduction to one's own private experience is impossible; and because human action consists of a direct grasp of objects, it is not necessary to posit a special mental entity called a meaning to account for intentionality. For Heidegger, being thrown into the world among things in the act of realizing projects is a more fundamental kind of intentionality than that revealed in merely staring at or thinking about objects, and it is this more fundamental intentionality that makes possible the directedness analysed by Husserl.
In the mid-1900s, French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre attempted to adapt Heidegger's phenomenology to the philosophy of consciousness, in effect returning to the approach of Husserl. Sartre agreed with Husserl that consciousness is always directed at objects but criticized his claim that such directedness is possible only by means of special mental entities called meanings. The French philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty rejected Sartre's view that phenomenological description reveals human beings to be pure, isolated, and free consciousnesses. He stressed the role of the active, involved body in all human knowledge, thus generalizing Heidegger's insights to include the analysis of perception. Like Heidegger and Sartre, Merleau-Ponty is an existential phenomenologist, in that he denies the possibility of bracketing existence.
In the treatise Being and Nothingness, French writer Jean-Paul Sartre presents his existential philosophical framework. He reasons that the essential nothingness of human existence leaves individuals to take sole responsibility for their own actions. Shunning the morality and constraints of society, individuals must embrace personal responsibility to craft a world for themselves. Along with focussing on the importance of exercising individual responsibility, Sartre stresses that the understanding of freedom of choice is the only means of authenticating human existence. A novelist and playwright as well as a philosopher, Sartre will become a leader of the modern existentialist movement.
Although existentialist thought encompassing the uncompromising atheism of Nietzsche and Sartre and the agnosticism of Heidegger, its origin in the intensely religious philosophies of Pascal and Kierkegaard, foreshadowed its profound influence on 20th-century theologies. The 20th-century German philosopher Karl Jaspers, although he rejected explicit religious doctrines, influenced a contemporary theology through his preoccupation with transcendence and the limits of human experience. The German Protestant theologian’s Paul Tillich and Rudolf Bultmann, the French Roman Catholic theologian Gabriel Marcel, the Russian Orthodox philosopher Nikolay Berdyayev, and the German Jewish philosopher Martin Buber inherited many of Kierkegaard's concerns, especially that a personal sense of authenticity and commitment is essential to religious faith.
Renowned as one of the most important writers in world history, 19th-century Russian author Fyodor Dostoyevsky wrote psychologically intense novels that probed the motivations and moral justifications for his characters’ actions. Dostoyevsky commonly addressed themes such as the struggle between good and evil within the human soul and the idea of salvation through suffering. The Brothers Karamazov (1879-1880), generally considered Dostoyevsky’s best work, interlaces religious exploration with the story of a family’s violent quarrels over a woman and a disputed inheritance.
Twentieth-century writer and philosopher Albert Camus examined what he considered the tragic inability of human beings to understand and transcend their intolerable conditions. In his work Camus presented an absurd and seemingly unreasonable world in which some people futilely struggle to find meaning and rationality while others simply refuse to care. For example, the main character of The Stranger (1942) kills a man on a beach for no reason and accepts his arrest and punishment with a dispassion. In contrast, in The Plague (1947), Camus introduces characters who act with courage in the face of absurdity.
Several existentialist philosophers used literary forms to convey their thought, and existentialism has been as vital and as extensive a movement in literature as in philosophy. The 19th-century Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky is probably the greatest existentialist literary figure. In Notes from the Underground (1864), the alienated antihero rages against the optimistic assumptions of rationalist humanism. The view of human nature that emerges in this and other novels of Dostoyevsky is that it is unpredictable and perversely self-destructive; Only Christian love can save humanity from itself, but such love cannot be understood philosophically. As the character Alyosha says in The Brothers Karamazov (1879-80), “We must love life more than the meaning of it.”
The unfolding narrations that launch the chronological lines are attributed to the Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground (1864) -“I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man”- are among the most famous in 19th-century literature. Published five years after his release from prison and involuntary, military service in Siberia, Notes from Underground is a sign of Dostoyevsky’s rejection of the radical social thinking he had embraced in his youth. The unnamed narrator is antagonistic in tone, questioning the reader’s sense of morality plus the foundations of rational thinking.
In the 20th century, the novels of the Austrian Jewish writer Franz Kafka, such as The Trial 1925, translated, 1937, and The Castle (1926, translated, 1930), present isolated men confronting vast, elusive, menacing bureaucracies; Kafka's themes of anxiety, guilt, and solitude reflect the influence of Kierkegaard, Dostoyevsky, and, the influence of Nietzsche is also discernible in the novels of the French writer’s André Malraux and in the plays of Sartre. The work of the French writer Albert Camus is usually associated with existentialism because of the prominence of such themes as the apparent absurdity and futility of life, the indifference of the universe, and the necessity of engagement in a just cause. Existentialist themes are also reflected in the theatre of the absurd, notably in the plays of Samuel Beckett and Eugène Ionesco. In the United States, the influence of existentialism on literature has been more indirect and diffused, traces of Kierkegaard's thought can be found in the novels of Walker Percy and John Updike, and various existentialist themes are apparent in the work of such diverse writers as Norman Mailer, John Barth, and Arthur Miller.
Nietzsche’s concept has often been interpreted as one that postulates a master-slave society and has been identified with totalitarian philosophies. Many scholars deny the connection and attribute it to misinterpretation of Nietzsche 's work.
For him, an undertaking to characterize its method of analysis and criticism, under which we should feel quite familiar with, just as the extracted forms of familiarity are basic throughout which contextual matters of representation have previously been faced. He is encouraging as a new possibility for our lives a program that has strong and obvious roots in certain forms of Romanticism. Thus, is to illustrate how Nietzsche, the greater burden of tradition, as he is deeply connected to categorical priorities as to finding the considerations of which make of tradition.
Yet, Kant tried to solve the crisis generated by Locke and brought to a climax by Hume; his proposed solution combined elements of rationalism with elements of empiricism. He agreed with the rationalists that one can have an exact and certain opening for knowledge, but he followed the empiricists in holding that such knowledge is more informative about the structure of thought than about the world outside thought.
During the 19th century, the German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel revived the rationalist claim that absolutely certain knowledge of reality can be obtained by equating the processes of thought, of nature, and of history. Hegel inspired an interest in history and a historical approach to knowledge by Herbert Spencer in Britain and by the German school of historicisms. Spencer and the French philosopher Auguste Comte brought attention to the importance of sociology as a branch of knowledge, and both extended the principles of empiricism to the study of society.
The American school of pragmatism, founded by the philosophers Charles Sanders Peirce, William James, and John Dewey at the turn of this century, carried empiricism by maintaining that knowledge is an instrument of action and that all beliefs should be judged by their usefulness as rules for predicting experiences.
In the early 20th century, epistemological problems were discussed thoroughly, and subtle shades of difference grew into rival schools of thought. Special attention was given to the relation between the act of perceiving something, the object directly perceived, and the thing that can be said to be known because of the perception. The phenomenalists contended that the objects of knowledge are the same as the objects perceived. The neorealists argued that one has direct perceptions of physical objects or parts of physical objects, than of one's own mental states. The critical realists took a middle position, holding that although one perceives only sensory data such as colours and sounds, these stand for physical objects and provide knowledge of it.
A method for dealing with the problem of clarifying the relation between the act of knowing and the object known was developed by the German philosopher Edmund Husserl. He outlined an elaborate procedure that he called phenomenology, by which one is said to be able to distinguish the way things are from the way one thinks they really are, thus gaining a more precise understanding of the conceptual foundations of knowledge.
During the second quarter of the 20th century, two schools of thought emerged, each indebted to the Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein. The first of these schools, logical empiricism, or logical positivism, had its origins in Vienna, Austria, but it soon spread to England and the United States. The logical empiricists insisted that there be only one kind of knowledge: Scientific knowledge; In that, any legitimate claim that is reinforced through the knowledge claim must be verifiable in experience. So that, much that had passed for philosophy was neither true nor false but literally meaningless. Finally, following Hume and Kant, a clear distinction must be maintained between analytic and synthetic statements. The so-called verifiability criterion of meaning has undergone changes because of discussions among the logical empiricists themselves, and their critics, but has not been discarded. More recently, the sharp distinction between the analytic and the synthetic has been attacked by many of philosophers, chiefly by American philosopher W.V.O. Quine, whose overall approach is in the pragmatic tradition.
The latter of these recent schools of thought, generally called linguistic analysis, or ordinary language philosophy, seem to break with traditional epistemology. The linguistic analysts undertake to examine the actualized directive in key epistemological terms are used-terms such as knowledge, perception, and probability - and to formulate definitive rules for their use to avoid verbal confusion.
John Austin (1911-1960), a British philosopher, a prominent figure in 20th-century analytic and linguistic philosophy, was born in Lancaster, England, he was educated at the University of Oxford. After serving in British intelligence during World War II (1939-1945), he returned to Oxford and taught philosophy until his death.
Austin viewed the fundamental philosophical task to be that of annualizing and clarifying ordinary language. He considered attention to distinctions drawn in ordinary language as the most fruitful starting point for philosophical inquiry. Austin's linguistic work led to many influential concepts, such as the speech-act theory. This arose from his observation that many utterances do not merely describe reality but also affect reality; They are the performance of some act than a report of its performance. Austin came to believe that all languages are performatives and is made up of speech acts. Seven of his essays were published during his lifetime. Posthumously published works include Philosophical Papers (1961), Sense and Sensibilia (1962), and How to Do Things with Words (1962).
Thomas Hill Green (1836-1882), British philosopher and educator, who led the revolt against empiricism, the dominant philosophy in Britain during the latter part of the 19th century. He was born in Birkin, Yorkshire, England, and educated at Rugby and the University of Oxford. He taught at Oxford from 1860 until his death, initially as a fellow and after 1878 as Whyte Professor of Moral Philosophy.
A disciple of the German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Green insisted that consciousness provide the necessary basis for both knowledge and morality. He argued that a person's highest good is realization and that the individual can obtainably achieve realization, only in society. Society has an obligation, in turn, to provide for the good of all its members. The political implications of his philosophy laid the basis for sweeping social-reform legislation in Britain. Besides being the most influential British philosopher of his time, Green was a vigorous champion of popular education, temperance, and political liberalism. His writings include Prolegomena to Ethics (1883) and Lectures on the Principles of Political Obligation (1895), as both liberalized materials were posthumously published.
The outcome of this crisis in economic and social thinking was the development of positive liberalism. As noted, certain modern liberals, like the Austrian-born economist Friedrich August von Hayek, consider the positive attitude an essential betrayal of liberal ideals. Others, such as the British philosophers Thomas Hill Green and Bernard Bosanquet, known as the “Oxford Idealists,” ‘devised a so-called organic liberalism designed to hinder hindrances to the good life’. Green and Bosanquet advocated positive state action to promote -fulfilment, that is, to prevent economic monopoly, abolish poverty, and secure people against the disabilities of sickness, unemployment, and old age. The identified liberalism came alongside with the extension of democracy.
Most of the philosophical discussions of consciousness arose from the mind-body issues posed by René Descartes in the 17th century. Descartes asked: Is the mind, or consciousness, independent of matter? Is consciousness extended (physical) or unexceeded (nonphysical)? Is consciousness determinative, or is it determined? English philosophers such as John Locke equated consciousness with physical sensations and the information they provide, whereas European philosophers such as Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz and Immanuel Kant gave a more central and active role to the awakening of consciousness.
The philosopher who most directly influenced subsequent exploration of the subject of consciousness was the 19th-century German educator Johann Friedrich Herbart, who wrote that ideas had quality and intensity and that they may inhibit or simplify every other. Thus, ideas may pass from “states of reality” (consciousness) to “states of tendency” (unconsciousness), with the dividing line between the two states being described as the threshold of consciousness. This formulation of Herbart clearly presages the development, by the German psychologist and physiologist Gustav Theodor Fechner, of the psycho-physical measurement of sensation thresholds, and the later development by Sigmund Freud of the concept of the unconscious.
No simple, agreed-upon definition of consciousness exists. Attempted definitions tend to be tautological (for example, consciousness defined as awareness) or merely descriptive (for example, consciousness described as sensations, thoughts, or feelings). Despite this problem of definition, the subject of consciousness has had a remarkable history. There had occasioned that the primary subject matter of psychology, consciousness as an area of study has suffered almost a total dissolution, later reemerging to become a topic of current interest.
The experimental analysis of consciousness dates from 1879, when the German psychologist Wilhelm Max Wundt started his research laboratory. For Wundt, the task of psychology was the study of the structure of consciousness, which extended well beyond sensations and included feelings, images, memory, attention, duration, and movement. Because early interest focussed on the content and dynamics of consciousness, it is not surprising that the central methodology of such studies was introspection; That is, subjects reported on the mental contents of their own consciousness. This introspective approach was developed most fully by the American psychologist Edward Bradford Titchener at Cornell University. Setting his task as that of describing the structure of the mind, Titchener attempted to detail, from introspective-reports, the dimensions of the elements of consciousness. For example, taste was “dimensionalized” into four basic categories, sweet, sour, salt, and bitter. This approach was known as structuralism.
By the 1920s, however, a remarkable revolution had occurred in psychology that was essentially to remove considerations of consciousness from psychological research for some fifty years: Behaviourism captured the field of psychology. The main initiator of this movement was the American psychologist John Broadus Watson. When in a 1913 article, Watson stated, ‘I believe that we can write on the preliminaries of psychology and never use the term’s consciousness, mental states, mind . . . imagery and the like.’ Psychologists then turned almost exclusively to behaviours, as described as to stimulus and response, and consciousness was totally bypassed as a subject. A survey of eight leading introductory psychology texts published between 1930 and the 1950s found no mention of the topic of consciousness in five texts, and in two it was treated as a historical curiosity.
Impelled of the 1950s, were, however, an interest in the subject of consciousness returned, specifically in those subjects and techniques relating to altered states of consciousness, such in sleep and dreams, meditation, biofeedback, hypnosis, and drug-induced states. An increase in sleep and dream research was directly fuelled by a discovery used for the nature of consciousness. A physiological indicator of the dream state was found: At roughly 90-minute intervals, the eyes of sleepers were observed to move rapidly, and while the sleepers' brain waves would show a pattern resembling the waking state. When people were awakened during these periods of rapid eye movement, they usually reported dreams, whereas if awakened at other times they did not. This and other research clearly suggested that sleep, once considered a passive state, were instead an active state of consciousness.
During the 1960s, an increased search for “higher levels” of consciousness through meditation resulted in a growing interest in the practices of Zen Buddhism and Yoga from Eastern cultures. A full flowering of this movement in the United States was seen in the development of training programs, such as Transcendental Meditation, that was, - directed procedures of physical relaxation and focussed attention. Biofeedback techniques also were developed to bring body systems involving factors such as blood pressure or temperature under voluntary control by providing response from the body, so that subjects could learn to control their responses. For example, researchers found that persons could control their brain-wave patterns to some extent, particularly the so-called alpha rhythms generally associated with a relaxed, meditative state. This finding was especially used for those interested in consciousness and meditation, and several ‘alpha training’ programs emerged.
Another subject that led to increased interest in altered states of consciousness was hypnosis, which involves a transfer of conscious control from the one person to another person. Hypnotism has had a long and intricate history in medicine and folklore and has been intensively studied by psychologists. Much has become known about the hypnotic state, compared with individual suggestibility and personality traits; The subject has now been largely demythologized, and the limitations of the hypnotic state are well known. Despite the increasing use of hypnosis, however, much remains to be learned about this unusual state of focussed attention.
Many people in the 1960s experimented with the psychoactive drugs known as hallucinogens, which produce mental or mind distortions of conscious dialectic awareness. The most prominent of these drugs is lysergic acid diethylamide, or LSD; Mescaline and psilocybin, the latter two have long been associated with religious ceremonies in various cultures. LSD, because of its radical thought-modifying properties, was initially explored for its so-called mind-expanding potential and for its psychotomimetic effects (imitating psychoses). Little positive use, however, has been found for these. As the metaphysic of an orderly but simple linkage between environment and behaviour became unsatisfactory in recent decades. Interest in altered states of consciousness may be taken as a visible sign of renewed interest in the topic of consciousness. That persons are active and intervening participants in their behaviour has become increasingly clear. Environments, rewards, and punishments are not simply defined by their physical character. Memories are organized, not simply stored in the composites of memory. An entirely new area called cognitive psychology has emerged that centre on these concerns. In the study of children, increased attention is being paid to how they understand, or perceive, the world at different ages. In the field of animal behaviour, researchers increasingly emphasize the inherent characteristics resulting from the way a species has been shaped to respond adaptively to the environment. Humanistic psychologists, with a concern for-actualization and growth, have emerged after a long period of silence. Throughout the development of clinical and industrial psychology, the conscious states of persons as to their current feelings and thoughts were important. The role of consciousness, however, was often de-emphasised in favour of unconscious needs and motivations. Trends can be seen, however, toward a new emphasis on the nature of states of consciousness.
When the German psychologist Wilhelm Max Wundt started his research laboratory. For Wundt, the task of psychology was the study of the structure of consciousness, which extended well beyond sensations and included feelings, images, memory, attention, duration, and movement. Because early interest focussed on the content and dynamics of consciousness, it is not surprising that the central methodology of such studies was introspection; that is, subjects reported on the mental contents of their own consciousness. This introspective approach was developed most fully by the American psychologist Edward Bradford Titchener at Cornell University. Setting his task as that of describing the structure of the mind, Titchener attempted to detail, from introspective self-reports, the dimensions of the elements of consciousness.
Scientists have long since considered the nature of consciousness without producing a fully satisfactory definition. In the early 20th century American philosopher and psychologist William James suggested that consciousness is a mental process involving both attention to external stimuli and short-term memory. Later scientific explorations of consciousness mostly expanded upon James’s work. In this, a 1997 special issue of Scientific American, Nobel laureate Francis Crick, who helped determine the structure of DNA, and fellow biophysicists Christof Koch explain how experiments on vision might deepen our understanding of consciousness.
Thirteenth-century Italian philosopher and theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas attempted to synthesize Christian belief with a broad range of human knowledge, embracing diverse sources such as Greek philosopher Aristotle and Islamic and Jewish scholars. His thought exerted lasting influence on the development of Christian theology and Western philosophy. Author Anthony Kenny examines the complexities of Aquinas’s concepts of substance and accident.
In the 5th century Bc, the Greek Sophists questioned the possibility of reliable and objective knowledge. Thus, a leading Sophist, Gorgias, argued that nothing really exists, that if anything did exist it could not be known, and that if knowledge were possible, it could not be communicated. Another prominent Sophist, Protagoras, maintained that no person's opinions can be said to be correct than another's, because each is the sole judge of his or her own experience. Plato, following his illustrious teacher Socrates, tried to answer the Sophists by postulating the existence of a world of unchanging and invisible forms, or ideas, about having exact and accurate knowledge is possible. The thing’s one sees and touches, they maintained, are imperfect copies of the pure forms studied in mathematics and philosophy. Accordingly, only the abstract reasoning of these disciplines yields genuine knowledge, whereas reliance on sense perception produces vague and inconsistent opinions. They concluded that philosophical contemplation of the unseen world of forms is the highest goal of human life.
Aristotle followed Plato in regarding abstract knowledge as superior to any other, but disagreed with him as to the proper method of achieving it. Aristotle maintained that most knowledge is derived from experience. Knowledge is gained either directly, by abstracting the defining traits of a species, or indirectly, by deducing new facts from those already known, according to the rules of logic. Careful observation and strict adherence to the rules of logic, which were first set down in systematic form by Aristotle, would help guard against the pitfalls the Sophists had exposed. The Stoic and Epicurean schools agreed with Aristotle that knowledge originates in sense perception, but against both Aristotle and Plato they maintained that philosophy is to be valued as a practical guide to life, than as an end in it.
After many centuries of declining interest in rational and scientific knowledge, the Scholastic philosopher Saint Thomas Aquinas and other philosophers of the Middle Ages helped to restore confidence in reason and experience, blending rational methods with faith into a unified system of beliefs. Aquinas followed Aristotle in regarding perception as the starting point and logic as the intellectual procedure for arriving at reliable knowledge of nature, but he considered faith in scriptural authority as the main source of religious belief.
November 15, 2009
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