Showing posts with label Heidegger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heidegger. Show all posts

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Using Time in Aristotle to Compare Kant and Heidegger - Part IV

In the last part (Part III) I discussed Heidegger's use of 'temporality' in relation to Aristotle and Kant. Where Kant had provided a ground for Aristotle's experience of events, Heidegger provided a ground for Kant's orientation to the possibility of objects of experience. I will now bring us back to Aristotle's outlook to get another view on Heidegger and Kant.
When Aristotle is working out his Physics, he is asking some fundamental questions about inquiry into beings.  Kant has already assumed the existence of natural science as secure science. Aristotle is looking out at the possibilities that nature presents to him through the senses. One of these is that it can be understood, and he wants to come to terms with this understanding and the basic character of it in the Physics. Kant is not looking at the way the experience of nature provides us with possibility for understanding. (At least we can say this with regard to the Critique of Pure Reason. In the Critique of Judgment he sees this in aesthetic judgment.)
Kant is looking to the objects not in order to understand how they are presented such that they could be understood. Kant is looking at the objects understood in a particular way, and looking at the elements of such an understanding. This subtle different is important.  Aristotle recognizes that things presented to us can enter into various sorts of activity - not merely theoretical understanding, and Kant recognizes this too, but Kant's analysis in the Critique of Pure Reason takes objects in just the attitude of theoretical understanding.
Heidegger sees temporality in our coming towards our own possibilities (as well as other modes that I will leave out for now).  Heidegger can be seen as looking to Aristotle's attitude towards the particular possibility he was receptive to in the Physics: the possibility to understand nature.  With this in view, Heidegger looks at the area in which this is a possibility for us among other possibilities.  This bears some repetition and development.
Aristotle looked at his possibility for knowing nature, and characterized nature in its understandability.  Kant looked at the nature understood and developed the elements of this understood nature.  Heidegger looked at Aristotle's understanding of the understandability of nature and developed the elements of this kind of understanding. There is some violence to Heidegger in this last statement about him, but this is just a rough start to characterize briefly the relationship I see between Kant, Heidegger and Aristotle which needs to be developed further.  First, however, I would like to avoid a potential misunderstanding.
Heidegger saw Aristotle's understanding of understandability.  Why not see the understanding of the understandability of understandability, and so on forever?  Clearly, these two kinds of understanding are to be differentiated.  Aristotle sees the understandability of nature, which means he sees certain possibilities for understanding object.  Heidegger understands the understability that Aristotle saw, but since this understandability is not an object but a possibility, the understanding Heidegger develops is in the possibility of these attitudinal possibilities in relation to things, he also sees the possibility of not getting our primary direction from things, and the manner in which the very understandability of things can lure us into this orientation towards things.
Kant and Heidegger both took up different projects that relate to Aristotle's.  Kant took up the understanding of objects once the method of this understanding had become secure.  Heidegger took up the characterization of the possibility of understanding that Aristotle saw in objects.  The interpretations of Kant and Heidegger developed differently on the basis of this.

Some Remarks:

I do not mean that Heidegger and Kant were explicitly looking at Aristotle.  Though they were aware of him it isn't necessary that they took their direction from Aristotle explicitly.
I am not suggesting any kind of order of importance between these thinkers and their thinking out of time.  This would require separate justification.
There is something interesting here with relation to transcendental inquiry: Aristotle, Kant and Heidegger all have different basic directions, but they all look to the transcendental ground of these.  This is not to give priority to Kant; one could just as well see that each of these thinkers disclosed the phenomena they had in mind, and give priority to phenomenology.  This does let us see a relationship between transcendental philosophy and phenomenology:  transcendental philosophy doesn't mean taking the same topics for analysis that Kant did.
I see that Heidegger and Kant are both attacking a tendency that people fell into with regard to the success of Aristotle's project.  Kant shows that metaphysicians cannot use the model of understanding from nature in their own pursuits, and so need to turn away from characterizing them in terms of objects.  Heidegger also wants to see new opportunities in carrying out the question concerning the being of beings without taking direction from objects.  Kant and Heidegger both suggest alternative ways forward, but these alternatives are not contradictory.  The alternatives that come out of Kant and Heidegger still seem to have the characteristic difference of their original points of departure.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Using Time in Aristotle to Compare Kant and Heidegger - Part III

In our last part (Part II) I discussed Kant's analysis of time and illustrated how he develops Aristotle's.
Kant's basic outlook from which he analyses time concerns the possibility of representations as simultaneous and sequential. The experience of time that conditions the temporality of objects is not a concept, but a mode of representing per se. It is infinite because it has no dimension, not even the character of dimensionality (in which case it would either be definite or indefinite). Time is constitutive for our experience of objects.
Aristotle's outlook was from the perspective of how time comes into our awareness as change. Here the structure of time was illustrated as having a beginning middle and end. Kant also looking in this direction, but because he had already characterized time as form he considered this a particular determinateness of objects in time.
So far we have seen three different ways of dealing with time: first, time as a form; second, time as a duration between a beginning and end; and third, time as units derived from motions (or changes) that happen with regularity (clock time). We have seen time go from something bounded (In Aristotle) to something unbounded (in Kant). In Heidegger an entirely different attitude is used in approaching the situation which does not take its guidance from things.
In Being and Time, Heidegger sets out from the very start with the explicit goal of analyzing Dasein, and then characterizing Dasein in terms of its particular temporality. The analysis of Dasein requires an outlook that is different from Kant and Aristotle, yet could be described as containing these other outlooks as possibilities for the entity being analyzed (Dasein).
Heidegger's analysis of time can be characterized in relation to Kant in a rough (non-complete) way: while Kant's outlook assumes the concern with objects as candidates for theoretical activity, Heidegger is concerned with the temporality wherein there is a possibility of concerning oneself with objects in this way. (Of course, Kant does not only deal with objects as theoretical, but this is the basis of his explcit interpretation of time.) Even though this characterization of temporality in Heidegger is incomplete, it suits my purposes here of relating Heidegger's outlook to that of Kant and Aristotle.
We now have a fourth manner of considering time.  Rather than time being a basis for objects with magnitudes, or events over certain amounts of time, temporality potentiality of Dasein to be itself.  We come towards ourselves in the possibilities we see for ourselves, and there are never times in which these possibilities aren't there to approach.  In Heidegger, past, present and future are all together in an interrelated manner.  This is not unique in that all the 'directions' of time are together, but the manner in which these are divided.  the future event isn't a unit of time that hasn't happened yet (a limitation on time as form of appearance), rather the future is differentiated by our becoming what we are according to our possibilities.
We project possibilities and advance towards ourselves; we drag the past along with us in our state of mind; we encounter the world in its presence. These characteristics of our existence do not happen at different times, our outside of each other, but are all characterizations of the structure of the same temporality that we undergo (that we live). Temporality is not different from the very ways in which we are enacted towards ourselves (where we are our very own possibilities).
I still have not carried through the comparison through Aristotle, and this will be best to leave for the next part.  While we have roughly characterized time for Aristotle, Kant and Heidegger, we can turn back to the projects within which they were working out their understanding of time. Kant and Heidegger can be seen in relation to Aristotle's project in the physics.   The goal of this comparison is not to reduce Heidegger and Kant to Aristotle, but to see how Aristotle's outlook on time can help us move between these thinkers in our own understanding.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Using Time in Aristotle to Compare Kant and Heidegger: Part II

(This is the second part of a series of comparative philosophy: here is part I.)
While in Aristotle time is seen as an indeterminate magnitude bounded by ideal points, Kant's exposition begins only with respect to time's magnitude.  
In Kant, time is described as an infinite given magnitude.  (Kant sharply distinguishes between infinite and indefinite: infinite is without limits, while indefinite is with undetermined limits.)  Kant provides a thought experiment that can help us gauge what he means.  If we try to imagine another time, we may succeed in imagining other objects in a past or future, but our own experience of time (of sequence and simultaneity) remains unchanged.  We cannot imagine this other time (imagination itself is only possible in the sequence and simultaneity of our experience).
Kant also calls time a form (namely, the pure form of inner sense).  We can use time's character as infinite magnitude to understand this term 'form'.
There is a paradox in an infinite magnitude: a magnitude, one would think, is the kind of thing that must have a size.  However, something infinite has no size in principle.  This sounds like a contradiction, but is rather the key to understanding 'form'.  Rather than being a magnitude, time makes any determination of magnitude possible by being the 'field' of such determinations, and so the time, as a pure form of intuition, is the possibility of time determinations (limitations).  Aristotle's understanding of the beginnings and ends that limit a time is possible on the basis of a more basic understanding of the magnitude between the points as limited from a field of possible limitations - the form of time.
While we still have kept a relation to Aristotle's sense of time, Kant's account still points to something different.  The indeterminate magnitude between the beginning and end of a change is now seen as a limitation on a more primordial time.  The limitation by way of the beginning and end is described by Kant, particularly through the pure concepts of the understanding (categories).  These should be connected with Aristotle's considerations of time.
In Aristotle time was experienced in change and had a structure of something with a beginning middle (indeterminate duration) and end.  In Kant, changes are experienced in time, where time is an infinite magnitude that allows for limitation through conceiving of times.  In discussing Aristotle we found that the measurement of the magnitude of time seemed impossible without regular motions.  Here we still find this to be the case, but can also see how the capacity for limitation already produces a second notion of time that can be pluralized (unlike time as a form, which is only singular).  This time is apparently the time of Aristotle, as it shares the characteristics of being demarcated with a beginning and end (in Kant, cause and effect).  This, in effect, leaves us with three notions of time: time as form, as bounded indeterminate magnitude, and as the measure of a regular motions discoverable within world events (clock time).
By introducing the form of time (as the form of inner sense), Kant shows the character of time in Aristotle as a product of the understanding.  We now have time as form of intuition, and as concept (and even measure).  In Kant, the intuition and understanding are never discovered apart, but are always synthesized a priori as experience.  This means that there is an original belonging together of these two halves that is seen in the original experience and allows these two halves to be parsed out.  Kant characterizes this original togetherness roughly in the schematism, where the pure concepts of the understanding are to be taken as transcendental expressions of time.  Generally speaking, Kant does not see any way of illustrating the original unity of the intuition and understanding.  While it may be possible to produce an account of this out of looking at later writings from Kant, I won't get pulled into those concerns here.
The pure concepts ultimately provide for the sort of object of experience that we can judge about. This object of empirical understanding is the primary orientation point Kant has phenomenologically, and from this standpoint the connection of time and concepts is murky - and with good reason.  In part III I will consider Heidegger's understanding of time as temporality.  From Heidegger's entry way into phenomena we can get another shot at understanding what was murky in Kant, and provide another mode for understanding time.  We will ultimately relate this back to Aristotle's model of time.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Using Time in Aristotle to Compare Kant and Heidegger: Part I

In Aristotle's Physics the existence of time is deeply called into question and reinterpreted in an apparently phenomenological manner.  I think the conception of time in Kant and Heidegger can benefit from comparison to Aristotle.  I will carry out this comparison in three parts.
For Aristotle the beginning and end of any time is ideal and can be described like temporal geometric points (i.e., they have no size).  Between these points is an indeterminate duration.  Time only exists in this structure:
beginning -------------- end
This does not mean that for Aristotle time is composed out of units of beginnings and ends, or even overlapping beginnings and ends.  Instead, the experience of time always structurally contains these moments.
When we become aware of something it is always awareness of a difference - a change has taken place.  This awareness is the awareness of an end, and the prior state before the change is the start.
Imagine that someone throws a ball (or throw a ball into the air yourself).  You see it in its trajectory over numerous points in space.  Each of those points is an awareness of change that takes its reference to a beginning.  Here time is not a duration but a certain mode of awareness about things.  In order to have a duration one must measure time by something.  We are not concerned with measuring time, but I can remark that such measuring is done traditionally through movements (perceived to be) of a fixed kind (e.g., the movements of planets).
In this experience of time, the beginning doesn't come before the end, but both come together in awareness.  From this, Aristotle is able to make the point that there is no such thing as the beginning of movement.  One can only encounter movement in its continuing to move or stopping.  (While I am sticking to movement I should at least point out that all change of characteristics are understood in this way by Aristotle.)  One can verify this with reference to ones own experience of change.
Now, the structure of time with a beginning an indistinct duration and an end is something that is all at once for awareness, but looks like a line drawn out (as we map it to space), and so it is easy to think that we can point the the beginning.  In this regard, of course, there is a beginning, but if we want to speak of a beginning in time without an end, then we are not speaking about our primordial experience of time but of time converted already into a duration, and so we mean the time.
The next part (Part II) will concern Kant and how the indistinct-duration (that Aristotle recognized) in the experience of time is given priority.  This indistinct measure is not broken up moment to moment, but considered as infinite. Then pure concept (category) of cause is used to provide the same model of beginning, indefinite duration, and end that is found in Aristotle.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

On Hypothesis and Questioning

I want to discuss 'hypothesis', and this will be my attempt to set out some thoughts concerning it.  I want this to expand how I think of science, while still keeping it in close contact with how I think of philosophy, and particularly, metaphysics (as the study of the Being of beings).
Hypothesis is often used in terms of a prediction we make, and then test through experiment.  I don't know how recently this came to be the standard usage, and I am not interested in rejecting it but understanding why it has become natural for us to think of things as predictable.  I am going back to some usage I have seen in Kant and Plato which inspired me, and seeing if I can get better insight into my own thought about both science, and my work in metaphysics.
Hypo-thesis has a nice etymology: under-placing.  In this way you could imagine a hypothesis as a foundation for a building - something that one allows something else to stand.  I would like to emphasize this under-placing through a different image so that I can avail myself of certain language that I think will be helpful to develop other thoughts I have related to the subject.
Imagine a completely white space, brightly lit, so that you cannot see any differentiation in the field of view.  You are looking forward as a black backdrop is lowered some distance behind you.  As this happens, you see a number of all white objects that were in the field of view that were hitherto invisible (due to their non-contrasting with the environment) have now become visible.  I would like to consider the black backdrop here, which allows the white objects to stand out (exist, presence themselves), as illustrating hypothesis.
hypotheses allow things to show themselves.  A scientific hypothesis, taken in this sense, is a way of constraining the environment in advance in order to see something that stands out.  I do not want to consider hypotheses as physical equipment used to reveal things (so the black backdrop is only a metaphor): a light switch is not a hypothesis.  A hypothesis is rather a way of thinking of our environment in advance in a planned way - a way of constraining the environment in order that it seems different to us while we operate under the hypothesis.
In Plato's Meno, Socrates and Meno are unable to decide what virtue is, but Meno still persuades Socrates to answer if virtue can be taught.  Socrates advises that they continue as a geometer by operating under a hypothesis.  They agree to suppose that knowledge considered valuable, and teachable, will be taught, so that if virtue is both valuable and teachable then we should discover it being taught.  But it is not taught, and good men have bad sons.  If we agree or disagree with the hypothesis does not matter here.  What I am interested in is how something is used to reduce the field of inquiry to just those things which are being taught, and upon looking at this reduced field not finding virtue there, the conclusion that virtue cannot be taught is decided.
For complicated reasons (which I do not understand) we say that if a certain statistical regularity shows itself (through data gathered in a graph that reveals a bump or cluster), then we have reason to suppose that there is a higgs-boson particle.  This is a hypothesis.  This data is not gathered at random, but depends on many other hypothesis that have constrained the environment so precisely that, at CERN, we have built a particle accelerator on these hypotheses.  Presently, we have no other way of hunting around for the higgs-boson, and this particle accelerator served the need to to let the particle stand out, and in a way, first exist.  All of these scientific operations clearly suppose the regularity of nature, but nature is not regular - no events ever repeat.  We do not hold to hypotheses because nature operates in a regular manner: only by holding to a hypothesis can beings become predictable and regular.  If we forget this we risk forgetting how science works.
For many of us, in our school days, we measured the volume of things by seeing the displacement of something in water.  Perhaps we remember Archimedes' eurika story, as well.  In our experiment we already knew in advance that a displacement in water signified the amount of space that an object takes up.  Having this understanding in advance allowed us to operate in our environment in a certain way to provide answers to questions we were given to ask.  For Archimedes, who had a lingering problem that he was trying to solve, his own displacing of water in a bath tub led him to realize that he had found the answer.  Such fortunate accidents do not just happen, but with Archimedes, as with the story of Newton, our own questioning state of mind leads to such dawning consciousness.  Our own questioning operates on the environment in order to reveal in a way that a hypothesis does, but without knowing in advance what such an answer will look like, and so different from us in our classroom experiments.
Kant says that no hypotheses are allowed in his critical enterprise.  What does this tell us about his approach?  While operating under no pre-consideration of things, he is yet asking.  He is not trying to constrain the field of beings in order to simply let some beings appear, or for them to appear in a special way - he just wants things to be as they are.  However, as soon as he begins to provide his interpretation of what emerges in this space, he sticks to one part of beings - the immediate presence to intuition (sense) - as a guide.  This can distort, for his readers, the original view that he had towards the Being of beings, a view also required for him to write the second and third critiques.  (The third seeming to approach most closely to a pure interpretation of presencing with the judgment of taste.)  This may help illustrate how I think the basic difference between a special science and the general science of metaphysics (or ontology).
Special sciences, already operate in advance with an understanding of their hypothesis, and constrain the view to let certain beings appear.  Metaphysics, on the other hand, does not hold hypotheses, but asks concerning the Being of beings.  Sometimes this asking is just in regard to the Being of beings in a certain discipline (what is it to be a being of mathematical physics?), while sometimes it is with regard to a pure view to beings as such.  But even with our most pure view to beings, they are already in advance something that is able to be taken up by us into our asking, and so already we can see that they have a character that is able to be questioned (a questionable character).  This tells us about the pure Being of beings, and also about us and how we emerge in relation to the Being of beings as thinkers.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Using Kant's Table of Categories to Understand Heidegger

In Being and Time (German 65), Heidegger lays out four different meanings of "world".  Upon last encountering this passage, it struck me that this division may benefit supposing a backdrop of the table of categories in Kant.  I want to briefly discuss this possibility.
The table of categories are the different pure forms of thinking an object.  Each category is a model for a way of judging about a thing.  There are four headings of the categories: quantity, quality, relation and modality.  Kant is interested in having a systematic completeness in his reflections on things, and supposes that if he uses all the ways of judging a thing generally as his guide, he will be more apt at providing such completeness for his thoughts.  (A good discussion of the use of the categories for organizing reflection is in the Preface to the Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science.)
Now, if we suppose Heidegger employs this method, then we should be able to draw a number of implications from it regarding his method of writing Being and Time, as well as the subject matter that he deals with.  (This interpretive hypothesis in no way suggests that Heidegger is simply repeating Kant's table of categories, but using a guide like Kant in the setting out of the subject matter.)
After laying out the four different senses of world, Heidegger informs us that he will be employing the third.  If we go by the way these sense seem to be lined up with the table of categories, then we will find that the third sense of world will be relational, which is does seem to be, since it concerns and cannot be separated from, Being-there's (Dasein's) being-in the world.
To draw an implication from this from the backdrop of the categories in Kant I will mention that the categories of relation are significant (along with the modal categories) in that they do not contribute to the constitution of an object, but to the constitution of experience as structures of experience (the unity of appearances, rather than just the unity of an appearance).  I find that this works well with Heidegger's interest in the structure of Being-in-the-world.
If the object of study in Being and Time is Being-there as concerned with Being, then perhaps we can see that worldhood doesn't concern something that constitutes Being-there's concern with being (it isn't a dealing that Being-there has), but it is rather constitutive of Being as such so far as Being will be brought out on the backdrop of the interpretation of Being-there.  Even for this, however, we will need to bring in the an interpretation of these structures of Being-there in terms of temporality, but at least we can guess at what will be indicated by the kinds of analyses in Division One of Being and Time.
When I speak of 'constitutive of Being' here, I am not suggesting that I can answer what the meaning of Being is.  Heidegger's analysis will only concern the constitution of Being in the way in which Being-there's concern with Being relates to Being as such, and since Being seems to both be the concern, as well as something supposed to be possessed by Being-there in its concern for Being, we can clearly see the circularity involved in the project of Being and Time.  This circularity isn't something that Heidegger hides from, but rather, it is something that he brings to the fore and which is important for the project as a whole.
There are other implications that we could draw from using the table of categories as a foil, but I'll leave off here, since I just wanted to raise this interpretive possibility more than anything else.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Siding in Favor of Existence as a Problem

   For some months I have been trying to appreciate the question, "why is there something instead of nothing?"  This question is asked by Heidegger in his Introduction to Metaphysics, but I began by considering the question as it is answered by Leibniz, and torn open again by Kant (as well as in some other  reflections).  In my mind I have been working towards a confrontation with Parmenides, who I see as having made some important determinations regarding 'nothing', as he is considered the origin of the principle ex nihilo nihil fit(Out of nothing comes nothing).
   My confrontation with Parmenides has been postponed indefinitely, as I have come to realize the importance that Kant's little belabored treatment of 'nothing' in the Critique of Pure Reason.  Here I want to provide an opportunity to reflect by challenging the assertion: at least something exists. First I will need to frame this assertion so that the difficulties opened up by Kant can be appreciated.
   Even though our experience is entirely of what appears to us, we at least say for ourselves that something more must exist.  Concerning this something, even if we can be completely wrong about its character, we at least know it exists.  But, what Kant shows in his considerations of the 'problematic' is that really we have no right to even make this claim.
   For Kant, to exist is merely a basic determination of object of a possible experience: existence concerns merely the synthetic unity of representations.  This being said, if we want to show something existing apart from experience, we are going to have an impossible time of it.  Even still, we are confident in claiming that there is something that exists underlying what appears.  We may even go so far as to laugh or roll our eyes at those who would deny that at least something exists.
   Kant himself remarks that the very term 'appearance' suggests something that appears, and so already is in favor of this existing substrate.  However, Kant just as much denies that we can apply the category of existence beyond appearances - at least when we are concerned with what can be known by us - and so it is a belief that we assert when we say that there is a substrate of all experience that has the character of a something.
   With the possibility of the 'ground of existence' being the character of nothing we find ourselves at the threshold of nihilism.  However, there is no grounds for characterizing the 'ground of existence' as having the character of nothing, either.  (Here we are perhaps getting at the heart of Jacobi's misunderstanding when he coined the word 'nihilism' in reference to Kant's Critical Philosophy.)  So far, I have implied that there is a character to something as well as nothing; in Kant's thought this character is determined relative to time.  The 'ground of existence' must be understood out of relation to the temporal.  We may be tempted to suggest that the eternal is what evades time, but it seems that this notion is employed with preference for the character of something, and so I will leave it behind for now.  
   Kant's term of choice for this domain outside of time is the problematic, which is not 'something' or 'nothing', but is indeterminate if it is of the character of something or nothing, possible or impossible.  (It is often the case that impossibility is understood through non-contradiction, and with the problematic we find non-contradiction cannot strictly apply.  This is a clue for understanding logic so far as it takes itself to be founded on such principles.)  In Kant's work, he seemingly resolves the problematic as quickly as it opens us.  He does this by illustrating how we side with 'something' as the character of the problematic due to the constitution of our moral life (that is, not as a moral conclusion, but as the very possibility of our thinking morally).  
   I take Kant's work showing the relation of the moral to the problematic to be perfectly correct, but I think more can be said in emphasizing the manner in which the problematic is determined in favor of 'something'.  The importance of such reflections, I believe, are immeasurable.  Keeping the problematic in view helps to show the deficiency in nihilism as well as enthusiasm, while still respecting the difficulties that those views overcome.  Also, showing how the moral life settles the matter of the problematic provides for   endless amounts of reflection on all domains of thought.  In addition, we can also begin to see how language is completely infiltrated with this determination in favor of existence - not in order to reject such infiltration, but to understand it.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Reflecting on Kinds of Nothing in Kant and Leibniz

Recently I have been working on getting a handle on 'nothing' in order to to more fully appreciate Heidegger's question in Introduction to Metaphysics: Why is there something rather than nothing? I wish to understand this question not simply to understand Heidegger - he can speak for himself well enough - but to help understand some of the history of philosophy where Heidegger drew the question from. And this goal itself is only a stop along the way to unlocking the significance of 'nothing' for continued genuine questioning.
So far I have considered Leibniz and Kant. The reason for considering Leibniz is that he asks and answers our guiding question in a manner that Heidegger is aware of and reflective about. My reason for selecting Kant was my familiarity with him, and that his passage on nothing has a straightforward introduction to some difficulties of the subject; a secondary consideration was that the section that Kant's discussion of 'nothing' appears in - the Amphiboly - is one which Heidegger calls decisive, even if he does not (to my knowledge) directly reference the discussion of 'nothing'.
I also plan to consider 'nothing' in Parmenides, but before I do I want to take an opportunity to reflect on the considerations so far and to add some remarks and refinements.
One thing that has come up in the interpretation so far has been different kinds of nothing. For Leibniz, I attempted to understand nothing as the simple negation of the actual, as well as nothing as a privation (of goodness); in Kant, there was also nothing as a negation of the different ways of being judged objectively, as well as a nothing that was indistinguishable from being: the problematic object, theoretically indeterminable whether it 'is' something or nothing. To help to understand these different types of nothing I will consider the negation of a specific thing (any thing, say, a cup).
For Leibniz, the denial of the actuality of a specific thing means that it is contradictory with whatever is actual and better (more good). The negated object is still a possible object, but it has specific reasons relative to what is actual for not being actual (even if we do not know them). Simply not being actual still allows us to consider why this is so, and so blurs the difference between nothing as not-actual and as privation. If an object is self-contradictory, however, then we get a different sense of nothing for Leibniz which we should consider.
For Kant, the negation of a specific object reveals no other determination about it, but this also does not mean an object is nothing, but simply that we think it as an object of possible experience. A cup is not impossible, and so is not properly nothing, just as in Leibniz we can say that the negation of the actuality of the cup is not nothing.
For Kant, 'nothing' is determined by impossibility of the object being given in any possible experience, and there are four ways of being such an impossible object. However, the impossibility of the object is ultimately determined by its inability of being temporalized. So, for Kant, 'nothing' is relative to the constitution of our experience. On the other hand, the problematic is the positive expression of the limits of our cognition, and reveals some new options.
If something is problematic for us, and intelligible, then it is at least not self-contradictory, but we still cannot say that it is possible or impossible, since it does not relate to a possible experience. Freedom is such a concept as this, which we can think without contradiction, but also cannot be made an object of a possible experience. We can also consider the problematic in stronger terms, according to what is not even intelligible; here, even self-contradictory concepts, such as square circles, are considered problematically. Perhaps there is a being which 'experiences' square circles, and for whom a round circle is a contradiction. This is meaningless for us apart from the recognition that our form of experience is not itself necessary.
In Kant, then, we have, first, the negation of a thing, which still leaves it as possible - the imaginable; second, the nothing, which means something impossible - inability to temporalize; third, the problematic intelligible object, which is also atemporal, and is thought without contradiction - the positive expression of the limits of theoretical reason; fourth, the unintelligible problematic object which is atemporal and self-contradictory, which we can think as possible for some being constituted differently than us - the positive expression of the limits of all human reason.
We may be tempted to consider a fifth: the absolute problematic - a positive expression of the limits of any kind of reason (not only human). But the only reason that this cannot really be considered, is that it is actually just an instance of something unintelligible problematic. The contradiction of absolute limitation is that limitation is always of something, and so a non-relative limitation cannot be thought by us. However, just because it is unintelligible to us, does not discount it absolutely, since it is still unintelligible problematically.
Leibniz considers the self-contradictory to be exactly the absolute problematic (the unconditioned limit), but because this absolute limit is intelligible, it must be different from our determination above. For Leibniz, the absolute limit is self-contradiction, which is even a limit for the absolute being - God. In Kant's terms, Leibniz only goes as far as the intelligible problematic, but this intelligible problematic is determined to exist by Leibniz, and not just as intelligible. From Kant, we see that practical reason is what first gives the (intelligible) problematic determinations beyond self-consistency, such as existence, and on such practical foundations we make further determinations within the problematic. This shows more clearly the moral outlook already unconsidered in Leibniz' position.
Since Leibniz determines the absolute being as existing, and so as having a (theoretical) thingly character, we can see a choice had to be made between how we think God and objects: either the objectivity of objects must be expanded to be moral, or the nature of God must be reduced to conditions of appearance so that he can be determined theoretically. (Perhaps we can see a glimpse of Spinoza's pantheism here.) We know that Leibniz expands on the objectivity of the object, making goodness the determining factor of the actual. But, in order to have real possibilities - actual possibilities - these also must be good, and so a consideration of degrees is employed.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Understanding the Question, "Why there is something rather than nothing?", Part II: Kant

When considering the title question with regards to Leibniz, I found that the Twenty-Four Statements (as titled by Heidegger) supported two different ways of thinking 'nothing'. There was one sense that concerned just that something is actual or not. The other sense of nothing was the privation of goodness in things that were possible; the best of the possibles were the ones that became actual.
The cause (= real ground) of there being something rather than nothing in Leibniz is an absolute being (God), and this being is necessary simply given that there are actual things. There is nothing higher than the absolute being, and so nothing is just privation of what brings something into actuality - relative goodness. Kant determines the thingness of things in a different manner than Leibniz - a manner that does not involve the ethical aspect of life, and the result is very different. For Kant, we are constrained to objects of a possible experience. I will consider, now, how Kant thinks the question of why there is something rather than nothing in terms of the object of possible experience.
In the end of the Appendix to the Analytic of Elements in the Critique of Pure Reason there is a short passage concerned with 'Nothing'. This section begins with the following:
"Before we leave the Transcendental Analytic we must add some remarks which, although in themselves not of special importance, might nevertheless be regarded as requisite for the completeness of the system. The supreme concept with which it is customary to begin a transcendental philosophy is the division into the possible and the impossible. But since all division presupposes a concept to be divided, a still higher one is required, and this is the concept of an object in general, taken problematically, without its having been decided whether it is something or nothing. As the categories are the only concepts which refer to objects in general, the distinguishing of an object, whether it is something or nothing, will proceed according to the order and under the guidance of the categories." (A290 B346)
We can let Kant's discussion of the kinds of nothing stand on its own here, but take up the investigation of the problematic - the merely intelligible object in general which is divided conceptually into the possible and the impossible. The possible is already a something, while the impossible is already a nothing.
The determination of something or nothing is along with the Categories, and the Categories have significance, as we learn in the chapter on the Schematism, as a priori time determinations. The category of possibility means: "the agreement of the synthesis of different representations with the conditions of time in general." (A144 B184) So, if we consider the difference between something and nothing the problematic object which these are divided from, we can see that it is temporality generally that divides them. The problematic object is intelligible while not being in time.
If we ask the question, "why is there something instead of nothing at all?", and try to answer with Kant's conception of nothing, we only get the difference between a thing and the kinds of negations of determinate negations of temporality. There is no answer here. But, as with Leibniz, we can allow ourselves a sense of nothing as negation of 'actuality', and another sense of nothing beyond this sort of negation of something.
For Kant, the problematic is a nothing in more than the sense of negation of something, but in terms of the limits of our theoretical cognition. We could also remark that from the perspective of theoretical reason, Leibniz' 'real ground' would be just as likely absolute Being as it would be absolute Nothing.
If we consider how the problematic can give us an account of question, we can be sure that theoretical reason will have nothing to do with it. Theoretical reason will always send you looking for prior causes forever, which is something we should do, but also cannot answer our question. To get a handle on the answer for our question, we must constrain ourselves to think the problematic in one way or another. Kant gives us the manner in which we do this in his discussion of freedom in the resolution to the third antinomy.
In the third antinomy, Kant is addressing the conflict between a supposed first cause, and the necessity of there always being a prior cause. Kant's resolution is that both sides of this dispute can be true. While we must think everything that happens in terms of something that comes prior, it is not necessary that we think the prior as only appearance. Therefore, we can think something prior in a temporal way - according to an order of nature - and an a-temporal way - according to an order of freedom. But, we cannot arbitrarily decide when to think according to the temporal or not, since cause is a necessary a priori connection of representations. When are we constrained to think in accordance with a cause outside of time? Kant's answer for this is - when we think the moral: when something ought to be.
For Kant, then, the transition to Practical Reason first gives us a determination of the problematic. For theoretical reason, the problematic was indeterminate concerning its being or non-being, but with practical reason we are constrained to think the problematic in terms of being, and so to employ our temporal/theoretical scheme back onto the absolute in order to make it intelligible as a being. This illustrates how the practical determines the noumenal realm in a certain way due to the constraints of our faculties, and so shows how we must operate in relation to the absolute, but at the same time denying any real knowledge of it.
For Kant, the question "why is there something rather than nothing?" is entirely senseless for theoretical reason, but under the constraints of practical reason, the question takes on a significance for us. I not look at the answer that Kant gives to this question, but would rather take some time to consider Leibniz' and Kant's approaches to the question.
For Leibniz, the question already had moral significance, while Kant was restricted at first to a purely theoretical view, from which point the question was senseless, and then showed the transition to the moral view wherein the question takes on sense again. In terms of the ethical being involved in the question, both Kant and Leibniz are in agreement. However, for Leibniz, who didn't clarify the being of beings theoretically, the actual was constrained to be whatever was already the best (highest good), while for Kant, the actual had nothing to do with the good, but rather it was the moral demands placed on us that first allow us to think to the problematic in a determinate way. Kant shows how a system like Leibniz' can first be thought up, which first grounds it critically. I will leave off the fruitful comparison between Kant and Leibniz here.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Understanding the Question, "Why is there something rather than nothing?", Part I: Leibniz

I have been struggling with finding access, by my own means, to the question Heidegger poses in Introduction to Metaphysicsthrough the history of Philosophy. The question is not an innovation of Heidegger's, but is asked, and often answered, in the history of Philosophy.
Leibniz answers the question in what Heidegger calls the Twenty-four Statements, since, he says, there ought to be a ground for the fact that there is something. For Leibniz, it seems for there to be something requires the possibility of bringing possibilities into actuality. Since there are actual things, it is necessary that these possibilities are brought into actuality, and that whatever is the cause (the 'real ground') of this stepping into reality (coming into existence) is also the necessary ground of the fact of actualities. Of course, this ground is none other than God.
Here is an illustration of Leibniz's work here in terms of the elements involved: 1) the actual that is, and which is known; 2) the demand that we account for the actual's being instead of nothing; 3) the possible from which the actual steps into existence; 4) that which is necessary in the face of the fact that the possible does step into existence.
Any of the actual things could just as well have been nothing, and, for Leibniz, many of possibilities did not come to pass. Coming to pass is determined by God on the basis of the most good. (Goodness now is understood in a way mediated first by the fact that something is rather than not, and should be understood in terms of existence, and not our preference.) For something to not come into existence is for it to have contradicted whatever did come to pass, and also not being as good as what did come to pass.
(I must mention, in defense of Leibniz, that it seems highly important to see the choice to place goodness at the root of the decision of what should be is not arbitrary. The highest order decision about what is actual should align with the highest knowledge of it, and so should be knowledge of what is best, and ultimately good. Here, goodness should not be considered in terms of morally good, since it seems ethics is determined by Leibniz at the end of the Twenty-four Statements in terms of coming to understand the goodness of the world, and to situate our minds to not be at odds with the goodness of existence by expecting things out of it that we should not. This means that the way things are opposed to our desires should have a regulative impact on us so that we come to understand the world better and change ourselves to not be at odds with it.)
So something is, in which case it is the most good, or something is not, which is to say it contradicts the good or is less good. What does nothing mean here? Nothing is not the contradictory, or the less good, since these are still possibilities. Nothing must be understood as something else. Things have less reality if they are less likely to come into existence, and so nothing would seem to be a privation, in some degree, of goodness. So nothing here is not a mere not being actual but a privation. If this is the case, then when we look out and see that there are actual things, we can't suppose that it could have been nothing, since nothing is just privation of what is. This may give us some right to understand nothing is another sense, that is, whatever is not actual is nothing.
The dual notion of nothing we have is first, nothing as privation of goodness or contradiction with what is good, and second, nothing as not being actualized. It appears that the second approach to nothing dominates the question Leibniz answers of why there is something rather than nothing. Because he is focused on the second sense of nothing, he can see the actual in opposition to its alternative, and not just different in degree. The dividing line between something and nothing, then, is determined on the basis of there being goodness (which is our highest way of thinking the best and so the highest kind of knowledge we tend towards). But this goodness is decided on the basis of what simply is (which could have still been anything). This establishes a kind of circle that is driven by the pursuit of the highest kind of knowledge for us.
Looking at the four-fold division above, then we can note that (2) the demand that we determine the question is driven by the demand to know the highest, and so the direction of (4) how we determine what is necessary is established in this practical manner (rather than upon an analysis of the 'objectivity of the object', which is an alternative approach).

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Understanding Destiny Transcendentally

   I have been inquiring into 'destiny' as part of a general study of 'problematic' concepts and how they are grounded in the human experience in such a way that can provide insight into the human condition, as well as works of thought in the history of philosophy.  The result is an understanding how we are destined transcendentally.  These reflections should serve as a starting point rather than an end.  In order to understand our transcendental destiny it will be good to start with a more familiar picture of destiny.
   Where there is destiny there is a story wherein something or someone is destined.  The nature of the destined is such that it is established towards something.  Sometimes things are at the end of their destiny, and the story surrounding the thing is arranged by the destiny; other times the destiny is still to be fulfilled and stretches forward arranging and canceling possibilities.
   Destiny does not mean that something will happen according to mere mechanism, but rather according to a purpose or plan; such purposes or plans are thought on analogy with something willed by an intelligence.  (This is mentioned not to say that we must grant ourselves knowledge of some intelligence that is determining destiny, but simply to characterize the way we think destiny.)  When I meet my beloved, it may feel like some being intended for this to happen; when things are shaping up poorly I may wonder if it was planned that the difficulties would emerge at precisely the decisive moment.  
   We may feel like we are being rewarded, or punished by destiny, or even that we no longer have a destiny (that we are abandoned by the gods).  But no matter what specific case of being destined, we can be sure that there is also a pure mechanism that accounts for the entire sequence of appearances, and so the destiny is not necessary for the occurrence of the events that we feel are destined.  But we may still ask what it would be for a destiny to be necessary, and from that take a view to what things may count as such a destiny.
   For a destiny to be necessary it is not enough to just say that the destiny corresponds with whatever happens in nature mechanically.  Instead, what is destined must be thought apart from the mechanism of nature.  This is why any destiny in nature is also not necessary, since it always can defer to mechanism.  This tells us that in order for a destiny to be necessary, it cannot refer to beings as natural (where nature is understood as the Kantian 'sum total of appearances').  But what can be said to happen outside of nature that is purposive?
   Kant's aesthetic and moral judgments appear to be instances where destiny is at work transcendentally.  With the aesthetic judgment (judgment of taste) we find ourselves with the purpose of thinking a specific yet undetermined thing under a concept; with the moral judgment we are commanded to act in a certain specified way, but the command is given by us, and we are revealed as free.  Destiny in the case of the judgment of taste is the reflection off of the satisfaction in an object which at the same time makes us into thinking beings; destiny in the moral judgment is the reflection off of the moral law which at the same time reveals us as free and self-governing.
   There is a peculiarity of the aesthetic and moral judgments which defy the common view of destiny which makes man appear insignificant and only playing a role set out for them.  With the aesthetic and moral judgment, the human being is first free - free to act in relation to things according to his nature as an intellect, and as an agent.  (Perhaps it is only because the human is transcendentally destined to be free that these weighty elements of our life stories can weigh on us as they do and usurp destiny transcendentally understood.)
   We can also consider Heidegger's question concerning the essence of technology.  What is destining us to order beings in terms of standing reserve?  Well, this destiny is not necessary for us transcendentally speaking - we came into our technological 'frame' only at a certain point in history - but we can understand how a certain blindness to the limitations our 'frame' puts on the world ultimately has a restriction on the way in which we come into contexts with things, and are fated to operate in certain modes with them.  How can we best understand our capacity to conceal the nature of things?

Monday, December 3, 2012

Descartes' Cogito and Heidegger's Dasein

I want to write this just as a small matter of consideration for interpreters of Heidegger and Descartes.
Recently I was considering how doubt concerns the subject and not objects, and that the result of the hyperbolic doubt that Descartes pursues results in no change in the objects as objects, but only in the subject's possible activities with the objects - they become doubtful behaviors. 
I thought it may be interesting to point out that when we doubt an activity, it is not gone for us as a possible activity. I may doubt that I can pick up an object, but this doesn't change the object, nor does it change the possibility of my picking it up (as an action I can try). 
When I doubt all that is possible for me to doubt, as Descartes does, I am left with all the same possibilities, and objects. However, I am not doing anything else with the objects. I am, however, still there in the same circumstances, just having taken a certain stand in relation to them. 
To be a bit cheeky. Heidegger complains about Descartes, but in showing what Descartes overlooked, he also overlooked what both of them overlooked: the Cogito also establishes Dasein (being there) as Being-in-the-World.  Heidegger really does acknowledge this, however, but sees the thing that Descartes as overlooking an inquiry into the 'sum' of the 'Cogito sum'.
(6/9/2015) Heidegger has a very interesting interpretation of Descartes (similar to my own here) in his Nietzsche lectures, Volume 4 (Nihilism) Chapter 16 (The Cartesian Cogito as Cogito Me Cogitare).  Of course, Heidegger doesn't identify Descartes' position with his here.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Kant and Themes of Conflict in the Human Condition

   This is (yet another) attempt to broaden the thoughts one may have when considering Kant's work. The approach is to consider the work from a different perspective than simple exposition of arguments, or clarification of particulars of the system. Here I am more interested in looking at results that may have a more immediate transformational effect on how we think about ourselves. I want to lay out some tensions in the human condition that Kant's work recognizes, as well as some other tensions that are brought to the fore that aren't necessarily discussed.  These tensions are very important to me, since these are the places in Kant's work that point to where our own lives demand attention.
   If there is any wonder that Kant is interested in tension or conflict in human existence, we have only to recall the opening paragraph of the Critique of Pure Reason:
HUMAN reason has this peculiar fate that in one species of its knowledge it is burdened by questions which, as prescribed by the very nature of reason itself, it is not able to ignore, but which, as transcending all its powers, it is also not able to answer.

   On the tensions I will illustrate, an indefinite amount of time could be spent wrestling - even once we have a manner of speaking about them.  Just because Kant clarifies how to speak about some idea, does not mean that it no longer is to be counted among our deepest challenges.  Difficulties that are resolved by Kant discursively only let us see the challenge we face in a more personal way.  It seems that good philosophizing should help us to better confront the challenges of being who we are.

Seemingly Impossible Demands of Reason:
   This first conflict is the most noted that Kant works on, and is concerned with the limits of what Kant calls "theoretical reason".  The limits of this type of reason allow us to relieve ourself of certain approaches to questions that, while meaningful, have been burdened with an unquestioned method of pursuing their answer. Kant refers to the method that is to be avoided as 'Dogmatism'.
   When discussing theoretical reason, Kant restricts the discourse to cognitions so far as they of objects of (at least possible) experience - objects for which we have a possible (empirical) intuition.  The first Critique spends its greatest amount of time clarifying the elements of such objects of possible experience before advancing on to the limits. Once the critique clarifies the elements and limits of this experience, it presents the ideas which are problematic for reason and which make claim to the existence of certain objects - soul, World, and God - which Kant calls transcendental illusions.  These are illusions not in their being false, or fake, but only in their not being able to be given in a possible experience, yet being treated as objects of a possible experience.
   The resolution to these ideas is to clarify that we cannot know anything about them, through theoretical reason, without being able to attain an intuition that will give their object.  For theoretical reason we should not be concerned with the existence of the ideas, rather, they serve as ideas of the sum total of different minds of knowledge.  That these ideas are meaningful even without any possibility of their object being given theoretically should suggest that the scope of thought transcends merely the theoretical, however, in transcending the theoretical we cannot speak of objects as being understood in that theoretical domain, that is, as existing.

Insufficiency of Theoretical Reason
   Alongside the development of the limits of theoretical reason in the Critique of Pure Reason is also a sense of the insufficiency of this sort of reason to the concerns we have with the ideas. What the above resolved led to the realization that these ideas, while they do not have a right to, and are transcendent for, theoretical reason, they yet are of concern to us. This is exactly what the opening of the Preface to the Critique suggests.  When I am concerned with what 'I' should do, and therefore, with myself, I am not concerned with some object of possible experience, but rather with that very transcendental illusion that was denied with theoretical reason.  However, I am not concerned with it as an illusion, necessarily, and so my treatment of this object is not to be considered theoretical  - I am not asking if I can come to know my 'self' in a possible experience when I ask what ought I do.
   To raise this in a more contemporary domain: even if I were to locate, on a brain scan, my illusory idea of 'I', and were to exclaim that I had finally found the 'I', I would still directly show that I had not, for the 'I' that I identified with while doing my research was not material - is not a real thing - so I cannot find a real thing that corresponds to it without reifying the illusion and committing an error.  If we are to say that the 'I' found in the brain scan is the cause of the 'I' which I think myself to be, then it must mean the thought of it that I experience, for it certainly does not mean the idea, which we already know does not exist.  Yet we identify with the idea, and cannot avoid doing this. Maybe it is even better to say that the 'self', which is a mere idea identifies us.  While we can learn a lot from the project of discovering the 'I' in the brain, if it carried on without attending to the nature of the 'I' as an idea, is a continued project of reifying the soul that simply masquerades as a project that will show that it does not exist.  We already know that it does not 'exist', but this is precisely the problem that we mean to confront when we realize we also cannot help identifying as it. (I am confident that scientists are not so concerned with finding the 'I' in the sense of the idea, as they undoubtedly have a more sophisticated notion of the 'object' they are tracking down. Rather I am suspicious of poor journalism, and popular scientific works, which sensationalizes things in that direction.)
   With the clarification that Kant gives to theoretical reason, this problem of who we are becomes much more acute, and adds to the impulse to transition into what Kant calls "practical reason". It seems to me that this difficulty of self (which will relate to the problems with World, and God) will make it hard for us to accept the sort of beings we are, since we can't accumulate knowledge about ourselves the way we can about things. We can be in doubt about ourselves in a distinctly different way than we can with objects.

Happiness, Virtue and the Highest Good
   As the dialectical issue in Practical Reason, Kant cites the relationship between virtue and happiness and the attempts to reduce one to the other in order to bring ourselves to a state of peace concerning our conflicting demands.
   As humans, we want to be happy, but we also are called on to be good.  There is no guarantee that these two ends that we take up will contribute to each other, and often (as we see in tragedy) they are in deep conflict.  Kant criticizes the Stoics and Epicureans (in his interpretation of them) for dismissing the real character of either happiness or virtue in order to set this turmoil to rest.  I might say that these ancients are accused of saying ignorance is bliss, but each choosing a different thing to be ignorant of (there is a problem of choosing ignorance which should have us reflect once again on what the ancients really did say).
   Stoics say, for example, to remind yourself that nothing is of value itself except that we give value to it, and so we should not allow ourselves to be affected by that which is out of our control, and that this virtue of being stoic will lead to happiness.  Epicureans say the opposite, that the more we understand how to make ourselves happy we will find that being happy is the only virtue.  (There are ways of understanding these thoughts as not being in conflict, and as not necessarily conflicting with Kant, but I will pass over that here accepting Kant's interpretation for the purpose of discussing Kant's thought.)
   Kant notes that our demand to be good not guaranteeing our happiness seems an unfortunate state of affairs for mankind, but yet it may be the most fortunate, for it is in this tension that a virtuous person - one who seeks to do his duty - finds and rests in faith over the course of his pursuit for virtue and happiness.
   If we cannot truly deny either that we must do what is good, and that we will to be happy, then we are saddled with a faith that these can be brought into harmony with one another; this is what Kant calls the "Highest Good".  By accepting what we are as beings with a nature in inner conflict concerning ends (given the conditions of the world) we must despair or have faith in the suitability of our ends which we have even if we cannot guarantee that we can accomplish them.  If we despair or have faith does nothing to change our ends, and that we will seek them.

What Ought I do? and Understanding the determination of the Subject:
   Even though this goes against popular interpretation, it must be said that Kant does not decide the particulars of what we ought to do.  Kant is quite clear that he cannot decide matters for us, and neither can we decide as if it were a choice, yet this is in tension with this: that we do know what we ought to do.  There is no subtle sophistry to get around us doing what we ought to do,  and the burden is always on each individual to do what they ought to do.  This is the first tension, of actually living up to our duty and being virtuous - but there is a twist, for a tension that is opened up for me in studying Kant, which is not also treated by him directly (in my knowledge - and I am still looking).
   How we interpret a situation plays a tremendous role in what ought to be done. This difficulty is compounded by the fact that these interpretations do not neatly fall in the domain of either theoretical or practical cognition of objects.  In the Critique of (the Power of) Judgment, interpretations are due to the nature of the faculties of the subject ( see the Critique of the Teleological Judgment).  We might want to say that we encounter the objects and we tell a story about them. This is correct enough, but what allows us first to tell the story is how the objects determine us, how we are made who we are in the way in which we encounter the objects. (For a generic expression of this, see Kant's Refutation of Idealism in the first Critique, which seems to concern what Kant would call reflective judgment.) So, how is the subject determined?  In what ways is the subjects determined?  The third Critique deals with some of the beginning elements of this search.
   We already have experience that includes our interpretation, and this is a condition on us pursuing (loving) wisdom to begin with.  This concern with what I am loosely calling "the interpretation"  calls everything that was clarified before into question once again.  It does not upset, or "disprove", or reject anything, but it just demands that we look back at the whole understandingly, and with an interest in understanding better.
   Considering this question with reference to some later thinkers may be helpful as well. Heidegger spends a great deal of effort asking about questions of the determination of the subject, by language, by technology, &c. The question is not about what 'causes' the subject, as it were, but what first lets the subjects be what it is by means of what I was calling a reflective judgment (Kant's terminology). Looking back, as well, Plato's thought of forms and participation probably holds an important key for this as well. (Certainly much of the rest of the history of Philosophy can enlighten us as well, but I mention here only what I am most familiar with.)

*      *      *

   I have restricted myself to developing concerns that are found in the three Critiques, but there are many more dark places that have had light shown on them by Kant, and that call on us to shine our lamps on them ourselves.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Socrates and the Rejection of the Majority

   Plato portrays Socrates as alienating himself and his interlocutors from the majority of people by suggesting that you should not consider the opinions of the many. There is a lot of insight that can be gained from a more appreciative interpretation of Socrates treatment of the many, for while it is easy to see the rejection of the opinions of the many as elitism, it may make more sense to see this alienation as serving a number of other purposes. Three of these interpretive candidates are as follows: first, in rejecting the many, Socrates' means to show his interest in considering things in principle; second, this habit is a part of a broader tactic for bringing people together in discussion rather than opposition in debate; third, we should notice that the many are continually outstanding, that is, whoever Socrates speaks with is not counted as unworthy, and rather is put on an equal footing. I wish to explore some of my thoughts on these briefly here, but first I will spend a moment addressing what I think of some hints of elitism in Plato.
   It is certainly fair to consider a complaint of elitism regarding Plato, but many of the points where one finds such a concern may be avoided. For example, above the entrance to Plato's academy was inscribed, "Let None But Geometers Enter Here". This could certainly be seen as intellectual elitism, but I have my doubts since in the Meno Geometry is shown to be among the things that all people know regardless of their station in life. There is also accusations of elitism directed at Plato in what is considered his division of the perfect state in the Republic. This accusation also seems suspect, since the elite class in the Republic would be those who were best suited to sacrifice themselves for the state, not an elitism of intellectuals. The Philosopher King is not a creative intellectual free to do what he wishes, but rather someone who only serves the interests of the state which can be determined by its end, while the guardians must have the capacity to unfailingly follow orders that are in the interests of the state. For these sorts of reasons I would at least like to leave it an open question if we must see elitism as playing a clear role in Plato's thought. (Note: I don't wish to rule out any reading here, but only to raise the bar on what should be considered an informed reading if we are to accuse Plato of elitism.)
   Socrates' rejection of the many seems to have some roots in his youth, as it was part of a lesson given by Parmenides (in the dialogue of that name by Plato). In this lesson, Parmenides asks Socrates if he only considers the forms in relation to the virtues, and other ideas of that caliber, or if he also considers if there are forms of things like mud. Socrates answers that he is worried to consider the later without falling into absurdities, to which Parmenides replies that he will learn not to care what the many think of him, and that then he will be able to think about these other forms that are more mundane. (This advice from Parmenides looks forward all the way to Heidegger's Being and Time, which spends a great deal of effort in discussing the average and mundane. This will come up again later.) With this we can move to my first suggestion.
   The first of the options I suggested for interpreting Socrates' habit of holding the majority at a distance was his interest in considering things in principle (possibly inherited from Parmenides) in order to truly understand them. The dialogue Euthydemus shows two men, Euthydemus and his brother Dionysodorus, giving eristic arguments. At the end of the dialogue Socrates has the following exchange with Crito to close off the dialogue:

SOCRATES: Dear Crito, do you not know that in every profession the inferior sort are numerous and good for nothing, and the good are few and beyond all price: for example, are not gymnastic and rhetoric and money-making and the art of the general, noble arts?

CRITO: Certainly they are, in my judgment.

SOCRATES: Well, and do you not see that in each of these arts the many are ridiculous performers?

CRITO: Yes, indeed, that is very true.

SOCRATES: And will you on this account shun all these pursuits yourself and refuse to allow them to your son?

CRITO: That would not be reasonable, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Do you then be reasonable, Crito, and do not mind whether the teachers of philosophy are good or bad, but think only of philosophy herself. Try and examine her well and truly, and if she be evil seek to turn away all men from her, and not your sons only; but if she be what I believe that she is, then follow her and serve her, you and your house, as the saying is, and be of good cheer.


   This exchange is not the first time that Socrates turns Crito away from the many in order to consider something itself. In the dialogue named after Crito, Socrates summons up the laws of Athens themselves and holds a conversation between the three of them (while he also speaks for the laws). (Crito particularly seems to get lost on the mores of the many and to be forgetful of these talks with Socrates. Near the end of the Phaedo, Crito asks what Socrates wishes be done with him when he has died, forgetting or ignoring the contents of the conversation that has just occurred. Socrates reply is, "Catch me if you can.")
   It seems that Plato's emphasis on considering things in principle regards how to govern oneself by principles, and that this has a great deal to do with being wise. Much more could be said about this, but I will instead continue to my second consideration of Socrates attitude of towards the many.
   Socrates seems to want to avoid conflict in his discussion and rather favors a common pursuit where everyone benefits. Socrates employs this tactic in variety situations and in a number of ways. In the later part of the Protagoras, Socrates attempts to work with Protagoras by giving an external complaint from the many who hold a common opinion about the nature of good and evil. Socrates is able to answer the many along with Protagoras as a comrade, which is in sharp contrast to the earlier part of the dialogue when Protagoras' combativeness almost brings the dialogue to an early end. The example from the Crito where Socrates summons up the laws as a third party to the conversation with Crito can also serve here. In many other places where Socrates is confronted with a difficulty from one of the interlocutors it is common for him to call on another (and often younger and more beautiful) party present at the discussion to help him through a dialectic. We find such a tactic used in the Phaedo when Socrates asks for help from Phaedo when he is confronted by the problems of both Simmias and Cebes. (Also, in this crucial moment he mentions the dangers of misology that can occur from encountering bad arguments, and rejecting reason giving from particulars. This is much like the end of the Euthydemus.)
   Socrates' technique is not always shown as working out successfully, however, and can upset interlocutors from time to time because Socrates ends up looking evasive, and not wanting to take a stand and debate (which may be the whole point). In the first book of the Republic, Thrasymachus has a reaction of incredible outrage to Socrates attempt to be evasive. There are a number of options available for interpreting what Plato means to say through encounters such as the one with Thrasymachus, but that can be held off on for another time as I proceed to discuss the third and last interpretive suggestion.
   This may be the most subtle of the suggestions, but potentially the most revealing and interesting for me as an interpreter of the history of Philosophy. The many that Socrates so often insists on ignoring are never actually present in the dialogues. No matter who Socrates meets he is always willing to speak to them as equals (and often as unequals, as Socrates will be interested in learning whatever wisdom he can from those who claim to have it). The reason why I find this to be such an interesting suggestion, is that in some sense it means that Socrates is considering the many in principle, or as a sort of idea that every human has, and that can be used as a contrast to really understand ourselves, and the world, in principle. Once again, this theme seems to suggest what Heidegger is doing in considering the average in his Being and Time, as well as the themes of the authentic and inauthentic. As a philologist, seeing how Plato and Heidegger can be mutually informative for each other on this matter is a delight to consider. What other ways of thinking about this problem of the average can Plato open up for us in seeing how the tradition follows after Plato's treatment of the many? There seems to be a great deal of potential here that will only come after much more work.
   While I clearly do not read Plato as an elitist, there is, in fact, a great risk of intellectual elitism which comes along with inheriting Socrates as an idol of sorts, and in using this idol as a way to instruct others. This risk is what I hope to help avoid and criticize. The typical example of it is to use questioning as a means of provoking an interlocutor to think for themselves while you keep the answer you are looking for to yourself. This sort of deceit is something that is often interpreted as the motive of Socrates. I see this as a mistake, since Socrates almost always speaks to the contrary of this, and is always upset by the idea of wisdom being withheld from him. Instead, if we must assign such a motive, we must assign it to Plato. I often refer to this as a sentimental approach to Socrates, and perhaps Plato was the first in a long line of sentimental, Socratic philosophers. However, part of Plato's genius seem to be in writing in dialogue form so he can produce the effect he wants (this sentimental motive) while having a character that is sincerely ignorant. Hopefully we can all aspire to loving wisdom, and not instead just loving holding wisdom over the heads of others - something that may result in Aesop's fable regarding sour grapes.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Understanding Authenticity and Inauthenticity in 'Being and Time'

   In the interest of trying to make things simple before they are complicated I want to suggest a way of guiding ones reading of Being and Time through a simple statement of the ultimate relevance of the authentic/inauthentic distinction. There is a lot to draw out of a distinction such as the authentic/inauthentic, but we should strive to situate ourselves with the term in such a way that it informs a larger scope of our interpretation before we begin to suggest elements that are not so obvious (yet which may be quite important nonetheless).
   'Authentic' and 'inauthentic' can become distracting because they have an air of moralizing about them. Does Heidegger mean to see that people who are inauthentic, or who spend more time being inauthentic than authentic, are somehow bad? Even though Heidegger denies this flat out in the text, there is still a tendency to read him as doing so with a wink. But my questions for such readers are: how is such a reading helpful in clarifying the core issue of the text? Would we choose to distract ourselves from what the main issue is while at the same time needing to contradict what is said in the text about authentic and inauthentic? Does moralizing seem to offer any benefit to the main objectives of the text? Does Heidegger ever suggest in other works that such moralizing is beneficial for understanding his work?
   Heidegger himself does not necessarily do a good job of clarifying what role the terms are to serve in his work explicitly (and with good reason, since he works through exposition), but if we are allowed to assume that he did not develop these terms blindly, or on a tangent, then we should be able to see why these centrally featured terms are relevant for the main theme of Being and Time.
   The main problem of Being and Time is simple to put: how do we formulate the question of the meaning of Being (read as: to be). Clearly, we can say, "What is the meaning of Being?", so what is outstanding in the formulation? In short, the meaning of the question! We need to make sure that we actually ask about Being (to be), but how are we to know what to do? It's not clear how to understand the way Heidegger wants to ask the question at first. In fact, we can understand how he could by no means provide an answer to the meaning of this question of the meaning of Being prior to working the question itself out. The very formulation of the question is a puzzle that occupies the whole of Being and Time, and it is examining this puzzle that gets us farther into an understanding of the text.
   In some way we must make a theme of 'Being' such that we can inquire into it, but we must do so in such a way that we can first figure out what is being discussed at all. Heidegger may as well ask "what is the meaning of 'puffinstuff'?", since he can't come out and tell us, and may not himself understand precisely what he is asking about. But he does know what he is asking into (at least through a vague fore-understanding, something average), and he can provide a great deal of hints that hook us into the tradition of talking about 'Being' and 'beings'; these clues are negative, and he employs them in circling around trying to get ever closer to what he wants to discuss. Now, how does authenticity get us closer in our circling to an understanding of Being?
   A rough definition of 'authentic' may help: ones encounter is 'authentic' whenever the Being (to be) of what is encountered becomes a concern. So, to use an example, if I am using a hammer and it 'breaks' or 'fails', then I may not take this in stride. I may stop and look at the thing which has become conspicuous. When the equipment fails, we can make a theme of its Being (the manner in which it is). Now, the Being of Dasein is a question for Fundamental Ontology, and Dasein is not ready or present-at-hand like a hammer, and so Dasein does not simply break or fall apart. However, the equipment which we may engage with is not itself authentic or inauthentic - it is our concern with it that is. Do we "encounter ourselves" authentically or inauthentically? This is a possibility of our Being, and just as an authentic encounter with the hammer makes a theme of its Being possible for us, an "authentic encounter" with Dasein would make the Being of Dasein a possible theme.
   (Along with Heidegger, we should be wary of treating Dasein as something ready or present-at-hand. This is why I put 'encountering ourselves' above in scare quotes above: we clearly do not encounter ourselves in some manner akin to a hammer. This should be evident in that authentic and inauthentic encounters with objects ready or present-at-hand are possibly ways for Dasein to be.)
   Now, Being-towards-death, resoluteness, &c are all important in how we are to understand Dasein's being authentic. I will not develop the interpretation of these further here since my intentions are simply to indicate the relevance of the authentic/inauthentic distinction and provide an indication of some direction from there.
   Now, does 'inauthentic' serve us in any way in terms of how it is possible to make something the theme of some discourse? We can note right away that it at least forms a different possibility for the Being of Dasein from authentic so we can narrow down further what the authentic is. A more interesting thing to note about the inauthentic is that, in being closely aligned with 'averageness' and 'everydayness' it is closely aligned with the starting point of the inquiry - we cannot define 'Being' and then inquire into it, we begin with a more or less average understanding of Being, an understanding that for many is influenced by the tradition of philosophy in such a way that asking into its meaning is daft. The tradition coaxes us into inauthenticity.
   The problem with the question of the meaning of Being is that we do take it inauthentically (not concerning our Being) at first, or not at all. The work serves as an exposition to the question, and this exposition of the question is itself the answer, in a sense, as far as philosophy has to offer it. What does the exposition consist in? Does it consists in going from an inauthentic encounter with Being to an authentic encounter with Being? (I note that Kant, in the Critique of Pure Reason, Doctrine of Method, says that Philosophy cannot properly define anything, but can rather only operate on expositions of its concepts. Heidegger seems to obey this, and reveal something very important about this remark by Kant - even if by accident.) What of 'Phenomenology' as a discourse? Can such a discourse on Being be possible in any other way than one which forces the reader into authenticity?
   Perhaps these sorts of reflections can be crucial for understanding Being and Time, perhaps not, but these occur to me as powerful suggestions of the importance and relation of 'authentic' and 'inauthentic' to the overarching goals of the text.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

The Problem of 'The Problem of Knowledge'

   The problem of knowledge is often characterized as asking how is it that we can know anything, or something with certainty, or that something exists, &c.  This problem generates a lot of frustration both in the form of paradoxes such as the Gettier Problem, and ridiculous situations such as someone pointing to an object and saying "how do you know that's really there?".  As queer as these situations may be, there is always a sense in which they are valid for us to entertain, yet we usually dismiss them and "go on with our lives".  How is it that this 'problem' we recognize does not dog us in everything we do?  How are we still confident in our daily lives?  To answer these tangents simply: the the problem of knowledge is better grasped by us in an implicit manner than is it in an explicit manner.
   What does grasping the question better implicitly rather than explicitly mean?  To put it one way, if we explicitly take the problem of knowledge to be something that should cripple us in our daily lives, then our ability to just go on with our lives is a direct refutation of that formulation, and reveals an implicit understanding of the problem.
   When young, students of Philosophy come to expect the flippant response one finds when they raise the question of knowledge to a general audience, and have been satisfied to also then be flippant about the public. However, that the problem of knowledge actually is no problem for those who propound it should provide us with direction in evaluating the problem (rather than aggravating it as Epistemology professors I have known do).
   Descartes is taken as a forefather of the problem of knowledge, yet Descartes does not side with the problem against knowledge. However, much earlier than Descartes, Plato asked about knowledge in his work Theaetetus, and this masterpiece can be very helpful to us today in reforming our approach the question of knowledge. Unfortunately, I often encounter this dialogue interpreted so that it is infected by our more contemporary understanding of the problem of knowledge.
   In the dialogue, Socrates is discussing what knowledge is and the first answer that his interlocutor Theaetetus (a youth with a resemblance to Socrates) gives is that knowing is 'perceiving'. (I use perceiving here in a loose sense.) In many ways this answer is comparable to the Cogito of Descartes, though with a different emphasis.
   Apart from "I think, I am", an understanding of Descartes Cogito shows that there is quite a bit that we cannot doubt. We can doubt that there 'really' are objects, but we cannot doubt that it seems that there are objects; we cannot doubt any of our cognitions qua cognitions, though we can doubt the content. Theaetetus' answer is like this, but where Descartes reaches this point with reference to his capacity to doubt, Theaetetus instead begins with something like the Cogito. Descartes proceeds to try to find his way back to an assurance in real things, while Theaetetus and Socrates inquiry leads them instead to finding the problem of knowledge to be how we can account for error. It is this question of how we can be in error that more rightfully should be called the problem of knowledge.
   It is easy to point out, as many have, that if we are to have a problem of knowledge then there must already be knowledge, and an understanding of it, such that there can be a problem; having a problem of knowledge minimally implies knowledge of the problem. This is where the problem of knowledge as the question of how we can be in error is much more interesting than the more skeptical question which depends upon an understanding of knowledge that already assumes its existence to be dubious.
   This new problem of knowledge supposes that we also know what it is like to be in error. In the Theaetetus, it is recognized that we take some people to be wiser than others, and that if knowledge is 'perception', then everyone would be equally wise since they would equally have 'perception'. Out of this a theory of 'judgment' is articulated out of which comes a new way in which we see that we get it wrong: sometimes we take something we perceive to be something that it later turns out not to be. We may see Theaetetus in the distance and judge him to be Socrates - how does this happen? Now models are presented in relation to how we might make this particular error - the famous tabula rasa and the aviary and a model based on court room arguments (incorrectly equated with justified true belief); all of these fail to satisfy the argument.
   The importance of the method on display in the Theaetetus is that the argument proceeds from something known which is then compared to the understanding of knowledge. The lack in the starting point is measured against what is trying to be obtained, and the pursuit follows between two points that are known in order to try to fill in the gaps. It will be impossible to formulate a general theory for how we are wrong in any particular way, but it is possible for us to articulate different kinds of error (e.g., mistaken identity), and the general sources of these errors in relation to some mistake of procedure. There is also a question about what the structure of any error is like - a metaphysical orientation to the question.
   Concerning how we err metaphysically, Heidegger shows explicitly something that Kant shows implicitly: that our average way of being has a tendency to cover up our authentic possibilities. Put in a Kantian mode, our theoretical approach to knowledge is fundamentally unsuited for grasping the practical - being guided by a purely theoretical method covers up the practical and hinders us in advancing in practical concerns. For Heidegger there is nothing bad about averageness, just as for Kant there is nothing bad about theoretical reason, but these things can become sources of error for us through obfuscation; this makes for an important addition to what is said in the Theaetetus.