A. Schnell, H. Inverso: Crisis and Lifeworld, Karl Alber, 2023

Crisis and Lifeworld: New Phenomenological Perspectives Book Cover Crisis and Lifeworld: New Phenomenological Perspectives
Phänomenologie
Hernán Gabriel Inverso, Alexander Schnell (Eds.)
Karl Alber
2023
Hardback
230
Reviewed by: Piero Carreras (Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore\Bergische Universität Wuppertal)

The tripartite structure of Crisis and Lifeworld reflects that of  a conference which took place at the Bergische Universität Wuppertal in 2018: the first part, titled “Perspective on the Crisis” (essays by Carr, Schnell, Marsico and Walton) deals with methodological and historical questions of the relationship between lifeworld and crisis; the second part, “Echoes of the Crisis” deals more strictly with the reception of Husserl’s work (essays by Inverso, Lorelle, Garcia), with a special focus on the francophone developments; the third and last part, “The Lifeworld reconsidered”, is instead the exploration of contemporary interpretations of the lifeworld (essays by Held, Mossadeq, Rabanaque, Kim, Durt). As the editors remind us in the introduction, krinein means “to sift”, separating the flour from the bran. In phenomenological terms, this critical operation leads to a Rückfrage bringing forth the Urstiftung as the symbolic institution of meaning and transcendental consciousness, operating on the primary level of phenomena in their indeterminacy which is named lifeworld (Lebenswelt). Yet, there’s always a paradox in discussing the “crisis” in phenomenological terms, namely that, since Husserl denounced it for the first time, we are still ensnared within its net. For all the therapeutic intentions showed by the father of phenomenology, the crisis seems to have become permanent. Thus, contemporary phenomenologists are somewhat forced to go back again to this fundamental and problematic structuring of experience, in search for a new point of access to the underlying lifeworld, which is the most important step towards any possible solution.

This is how we could read the title of this collective work: we are faced with a couple of terms, “crisis” and “lifeworld”, and the contributions of this volume all seem to be situated in this in-between perspective. Being a collective work, this in-between space is at play again and again, as the perspective shifts necessarily due to the multiplicity of voices dealing with the topic from different understandings of phenomenology (and philosophy altogether). In the impossibility of finding a single line, the reader is somewhat forced to join the dialogue ex post. This premise is Necessary to understand how this book shall be dealt with in the following pages.

The opening essay by David Carr, “Phenomenology: Metaphysics or Method?” is possibly one of the most engaged ones. According to Carr, who has debated on the topic with, amongst others, Dan Zahavi, phenomenology is to be understood strictly as a method of critique of experience, cutting away from any kind of metaphysics. At the core of his essay, he proposes a “mutual hands-off agreement”:

I’m proposing is a mutual hands-off agreement: phenomenology should not be contaminated by prior metaphysical commitments; metaphysics should not look to phenomenology for support for its views. Thus I am not trying to de-legitimize metaphysics, much less empirical science. I am just trying to affirm the distinctness of their tasks from that of phenomenology. And what is that task? As we said, while metaphysics asks what exists, how it exists, and sometimes whether it exists, and while epistemology asks how we can know what exists, phenomenology asks, of anything that exists or may exist: how is it given, how is it experienced, and what is the nature of our experience of it. (p. 36)

The reader may be reminded of what already Dominique Janicaud (not mentioned here) had already denounced in French phenomenology at the beginning of the debate on the “theological turn”[1]. Although Carr’s position makes a strong claim, it could be counter-argued that a different reading of Husserl himself could even understand phenomenology as a “first step” towards metaphysics: the problem of this “hands-off agreement” is that it isn’t exactly clear who should benefit from it. The fact that phenomenology can be helpful for metaphysics and that metaphysics can grant phenomenology a further grounding is an object of controversy. It is true that Carr underscores the problem of metaphysical pre-assumptions rather than the possible metaphysical results which could span from phenomenology, but doesn’t cutting the line between the two doesn’t constitute a risk for philosophical development rather than an opportunity to do better phenomenology? I will leave the question open.

The second essay is “Transcendental Phenomenology and the Lifeworld” by Alexander Schnell. We are presented here with a historical and theoretical reconstruction of the development of Husserl’s transcendental Idealism. “Transcendental” is here to be understood as a motivation that makes comprehensible what can be described phenomenologically (with what is given immanently), referring to an ultimate source, the phenomenologically attestable or analysable fungierende Leistungen of transcendental subjectivity. What Husserl aims at in his last work is proposing a new  is a new fundamental task of phenomenology, which is no longer the legitimation of knowledge of the 1920s, but rather the Verständlichmachung (Hua VI, §49): phenomenology produces intelligibility, as shown in the new focus on Sinnbildung as fundamental task. This also entails a critique to the “principle of all principles” of Ideen I (§24), as the difference between the sphere of intuitiveness and non-intuitive manners of being conscious now relate back to the Vermöglichkeiten: objective existence now rests on the various manners of presentification, including phantasia and imagination, which brings forth a questioning of the priority of doxic and objectifying thematization. Schnell goes on to reconstruct further methodological problems that Husserl inherited from himself (e.g.  the problems of adequacy of the phenomenological description, the paradox of the annihilation of consciousness, and the distinction of objective and transcendental knowledge), showing how they relate to the last incarnation of Husserl’s phenomenology. In the Krisis, practicing phenomenology becomes a making comprehensible in a transcendental way insofar as it is a question of the sense and validity of phenomena: not securing objectivity anymore, but understanding it (Hua VI, 193). Schnell wraps up his essay suggesting a new possible line of elaboration: according to him, Husserl missed the opportunity to pursue and deepen the perspective opened by Hume: 

But instead of pursuing and deepening the new perspective opened by Hume – that of the transcendental Sinnbildung, which consists in a non-descriptive, transcendental “making-intelligible”, in which it is a question of putting forward the non-intuitive and non-presenting effectuations of consciousness – which would make it possible to focus on the anonymous processes of Sinnbildung beneath any egoic pole, Husserl preferred to concentrate on the constitutive role of what he called “intersubjectivity in community”. This missed opportunity must be held responsible for the reproach of subjectivism and solipsism that he has always been accused of and that – unjustly – continues to be made to him. (p. 58)

This implies the possibility of further developments, recurring to one of the (admittedly few) authors that Husserl himself discussed at some length. The Crisis is thus the final crossroads of some of the problems that Husserl himself faced throughout the development of his own philosophy, but it also leaves open some perspectives on which it’s possible to work further and differently.

After this reconstruction and opening of a possible new path within phenomenology itself and one of the key figures for its development (Hume), Claudia Marsico’s essay, “Philosophical generativity. Turn to antiquity, institution of meaning and the Denkergemeinschaft in the Crisis” tries to go back to the origins of philosophy altogether. Following Husserl (Hua VI, Beilage XXIV), philosophy as a task requires an historical reflection (Besinnung), which can trace back the phenomenological Urstiftung as a Nachstiftung of the Greek. Yet, as already the Greek institution wasn’t without conflict and tensions, the crisis can be conceived as a fundamental fact of our tradition. The Rückfrage in Husserl’s Crisis illuminates the Urstiftung der Ziele: underneath the sedimentations, the past becomes an infinite repository for new possible reconstructions, and this implies that the original institution is not self-sustaining, nor has any warrant except through the task of reinstitution. The double nature of Urstiftung means that its enaction is the possibility of achieving results, constructing a certain future, whose material condition is history. Thus, the phenomenologist belongs to a “community of thinkers” whose function is, since Plato, to reactivate consciousness, in a dialogue which transforms “classical” philosophers connecting them with their successors, while keeping this perspective open to the future[2].

The essay by Roberto J. Walton, “Crisis as the lack of response to an interpellation”, continues in the same line of problems of Marsico’s essay, at the same time signalling a more directly ethical turn within the economy of the volume. Walton proposes a tripartite understanding of the analysis of history in Husserl, which permits his interpretation of the crisis, seen as a disruption of the actual history in a broader movement from primal to rational generativity, entailing a lack of response to an interpellation that emerges from the former and demands the realization of what is implicit in it. This is discussed referring to the different perspectives on the process of teleology, which reflects the tripartite understanding of the crisis process. In “primal history”, teleological processes are connected with instinctive strivings and tendencies, composing a previous possession of the world which is the ground for higher-order generativities. This implies a further split between two levels of historicity: one of establishment and sedimentation of meanings directed towards finite goals, outlining the “natural concept of reason” (Hua XXXIX: 386), while the second level produces a new type of traditionality through cultural formations. The process of crisis is the moving-away from the primal establishment of goals, falling into an inauthentic re-establishment, a “lack of response to the twofold interpellation that stems from both margins of actual history”. The overcoming of the crisis is a going back to rational teleology as a structure that should hold sway over history, bringing forth the restoration of the fundamental reality. Walton then shows how various phenomenologists have understood various levels of history, and how these relate to the aspect of interpellation (namely: Heidegger, Patočka, Merleau-Ponty, Ricoeur, Henry, Waldenfels, Held). The unfolding of the crisis can be thus conceived as the overlooking of the margins of actual history, implying the need for a new approach: the possibility of saying-no in overcoming which doesn’t limit the human condition to demand and want. From the perspective of primal generativity, a crisis occurs when the preservation of its uniqueness and significance is endangered (Hua XXXVII 332): the twofold character of primal generativity is the foundation for the necessity of maintaining its integrity excluding artificial alterations and its diversity including different trends in the style of spiritual life.

The essay by Hernan Inverso, “Echoes of the Crisis in contemporary French phenomenology”, sets the mood for the second part, which is mostly concerned with the francophone reception of the Crisis problematic. Inverso discusses specifically Henry, Marion and Richir searching for “relevant materials for diagnosing the discomforts of our times, unveiling mechanisms of distortion, and defining new horizons that allow us to understand the world of life”. Again, we are faced with the ethical (and political) consequences of the perpetuating crisis, this time in relation to the role of the universities. According to Henry, the crisis is necessary, and even desirable in the perspective of a possible recovery through its radicalization[3]. Yet, if according to him universities are criticised as “organs of techno-science”, this perspective is less stark in the interpretation proposed by Marion: while he shares Husserl’s critique of “objectivism” and Henry’s conception of the crisis as a task against techno-scientific barbarism, he gives less attention to fractures and decadence, preferring to read the Crisis as a mode of rationality unable to “encounter the event”. At the same time, the university assumed as “a space of experience of the truth that measures what is known and what is not with an ethics of knowledge” as shown in the fading of specialized education implies a new hope for a “universal model”. The last author discussed by Inverso is Marc Richir, who ties the idea of crisis to a process of “dispersion of meaning”: university, according to him, is at the same time what reproduces the mechanisms of technoscience, while still keeping open the door to the non-daily experience, which Richir conceives of in similar terms of in terms similar to melancholy. As Inverso wraps up,

Without a holistic perspective and a commitment to a radical search proper to philosophy, knowledge becomes abandoned, and there is no way to let the phenomenon show itself to decide about the future. This horizon implies a real challenge for the university. In Husserl, it is the Ministry of Humanity; in Henry, the last redoubt at risk; in Marion, it is the guarantee of universality; and in Richir, the paradoxical entity that reproduces the mechanisms of technoscience but keeps the door open to the non-daily experience. (p. 112)

 

Paula Lorelle’s “Is life sensible? Husserl and Henry: two paradoxes about the lifeworld” focuses more deeply on Henry’s interpretation of the crisis. Focussing on Henry’s perspective, the crisis is interpreted as an abstraction from the sensible dimension towards insensible laws, which cause the self-objectivation of Life. According to Lorelle:

the phenomenological attempt to sensibilize the world through life, against its scientific idealization, ends up idealizing the world again, from the bottom of its insensible life. If the return to an absolute life leads to the lifeworld’s objectification, the only way out of this paradox and the true phenomenological solution to the crisis appears as the recognition of life’s essential sensibility, of its indefectible intertwining with the world. And this solution can also be found in La Barbarie. (123-124)

Whereas Husserl proposes a re-sensibilization of the world, Henry argues instead for the return to the insensible principle, pushing life’s insensibility to the non-intentional point of radical and unaltered auto-affection, disclosing self-sufficiency as life’s most insensible manifestation. But this also means an ambiguity between life’s affective impregnation of the world and its ecstatic objectification as synthesis: the world becomes the identical pole of perception, losing its vitality in becoming an “objective world” – which is the same process that Henry calls barbarism. This has repercussions for on the paradox of life as being both self-sufficient and essentially cultural: the acosmicity of life is shattered by the thesis of its practical and corporeal auto-affection: life seems to lose relation with the world, which reappears underneath objectivity as “earth” interior to life’s practical development. Yet, life’s self-unfolding implies the earth which is already lively. The return to the sensible lifeworld is seen as a solution to the crisis: paradoxically, life becomes sensible but also transcendental and absolute, but this movement is reversed in La Barbarie, which discusses life’s sickness and tendency toward self-negation. Life could thus be said sensible in two senses: living-through the world originally, but also being intrinsically vulnerable. Life frees itself rom its sensibility through phenomenology, meaning that the lifeworld is a lived and fragile world.

Esteban A. Garcia’s “Topics in Merleau-Ponty’s reading of the Crisis” follows the francophone discussion. Reconstructing Merleau-Ponty’s approach to Husserl’s Crisis rather than an approach to the “crisis”, a double trend can be observed: the attempt to gain access to the other from the cogito and the rejection of that problem and orientation towards intersubjectivity. Merleau-Ponty’s procedure overcomes philosophy as a strenge Wissenschaft towards a “pure interrogation”. According to him, reduction reveals “the simultaneous contact with my own being and with the world’s being”, entailing an “inhering of my consciousness in its body and its world,” which is intertwined with intersubjectivity. In this same perspective, Merleau-Ponty also recovers the Gestalt within phenomenology: purged from their ontological assumptions, and blurring the distinction between eidetic and empirical phenomenology, Merleau-Ponty thinks in terms of intertwining and reciprocal inclusion of phenomenology and psychology.

The late Klaus Held’s “Phenomenology of the Crisis and digitalisation” is more concerned with Heidegger’s understanding (and refusal) of the metaphor of the diagnosis and crisis. Held is explicitly proposing an open essay, trying to ground a possible understanding of the restructuring of lived experience through the process of digitalisation, which in this essay is seen in three main varieties (virtually augmented reality, sharing-activity and artificial intelligence). Through Besinnung, Heidegger leads to the “tragic insight that we cannot escape enframing’s commands”, that is here understood as the process of digitalisation, whose development cannot be ascribed to anyone, has crept into current life as routinely “idealizing” operations[4]: The recursive process of digitalisation brings forth the production of a deeper forgetting of the lifeworld, which entails a new and manifold exacerbation of the crisis originally described by Husserl. The political demand to bring under control digitalization is destined to fail according to Heidegger’s understanding, as the non-attributability of digitalization belongs to the self-withdrawal of the withdrawal. Yet, phenomenology does not abandon entirely “those who urge human beings to take responsibility for the development of digitalization”: the analogue bodily experience of the world faces the “virtual” or “augmented” realities, against which Besinnung can lead to understanding that the fascination of the virtual plunges us into a virtuality frenzy. The difference is that Held, recovering Husserl against Heidegger, tries to think in terms of the possibility of exercising an influence.

In his “Lifeworld forgetfulness in the digital age. Reflexions following Husserl’s Crisis”, Ismail el Mossadeq develops further what has been proposed by Held, focusing on the analogue-digital contrast. This entails the concept of “density”, which is how the analogue given is registered as continuous, making an analysis of discrete units impossible, as opposed to digital objects, which are entirely calculated “abstract real things”. Phenomenology, in this perspective, has to uphold its task of critical reflection, relating the digital realm back to the horizons of the lifeworld, “lest the digital realm become an autonomous fiefdom” subject only to its own rules and dynamics, exacerbating the crisis of sense and orientation. From this perspective, Phenomenology is what has to trace downstream of every digital medium, “its subsequent analogue” dimension.

Luis Roman Rabanaque, “Crisis and the Unconscious: Another Look at the Lifeworld” begins with the double aspect of the crisis, as both a problem within the scientific method and of its meaning for the decisive questions of humanity. Considering the lifeworld as the original mode of access, Rabanaque develops his essay towards the problems of the unconscious, of seizing phenomena that reach beyond conscious activity – something that Husserl called a Grenzproblem (Hua XLII)[5]. He proposes two strategies: reflection begins by focusing on what falls within the reach of evidence, thus examining the conscious thresholds, or it can examine the recollection and indirect experiences. The unconscious is, in Husserl’s sense, a horizon of latency which is related to wakefulness and affection, and with sunkenness beyond what is or can be conscious. In both cases this is to be conceived of as a transcendental dimension, not merely an anthropological or psychological one, and, at the same time, a site of sedimentation, which may even provide a foundation for some theses of psychoanalysis.

Hye Young Kim’s “Intersubjective Subjectivity: Language, Diversity of Language” proposes an experiment. Taking into account how phenomenology has rarely discussed the “other” (which, more specifically, means other languages), he proposes a “paradigm change” of the perspective on selfhood. This is discussed considering how subjective self-consciousness and individual cognition is always intersubjective, considering a pre-subjective “we”. Kim’s strategy turns to a discussion of how the Korean (and Malagasy) language employs systematically a we-mode, that is taken to signify a deeper understanding of intersubjectivity than the one possible through the standard vision. This is developed in the sense of knot-set theory, which is explained through multiple examples and drawings. This experimental and unusual approach is rich with implications, which may also be read against the old view of German as the “official language” for philosophy. What remains unclear is how exactly this difference in understanding of intersubjectivity can (or cannot) give a deeper perspective than the traditional “Occidental” perspective, and how exactly the possible conversation between “Occidental” phenomenology and its “other” is to be understood[6].

Christoph Durt’s “Subjectivity and world: the roots of the crisis in Husserl” closes the circle of the whole volume. Drawing from Emiliano Trizio’s study of the mutual repercussion of the crisis of sciences and the crisis of philosophy and from George Heffernan’s multi-faceted and intertwined understanding of crisis, Durt raises the question concerning the actual efficacy of still using this concept. According to him, the crisis shows different ramifications of a common issue: “seen in this way, it does not really matter whether the loss of the meaningfulness of modern science to life is a consequence, or a part of, the crisis of the European sciences” (p. 212). Durt also explicitly faces the problem of the “perpetual crisis”: “the idea of crisis as a critical state that results either in recoalescence or death is furthermore inept in accounting for more-or-less outcomes” (p. 224). In a somewhat dramatic conclusion for the whole volume, Durt writes:

The concept of crisis is not apt to capture the complexity of the discussed issues and may lead to misunderstandings of their nature and possible solutions. Rather than becoming too entangled in “crisis” talk, philosophers need to come up with new metaphors that take heed of the complexity of the problems and possible solutions. (p. 225)[7]

What emerges from this volume as a whole is what we could interpret as a “double resurgence”: on one hand, the problematic resurgence of a crisis, which is never entirely overcome, and represents itself in even more acute forms. Against this resurgence, which is seemingly inescapable, largely negative and, if we may use a Marxist term, alienating, the resurgence of the lifeworld is considered, if not the most efficient available strategy, at the very least the common phenomenological strategy. We could also call this a dialectic between the resurgence and the reemergence: the problem is that the phenomenological lifeworld itself becomes apparent as a problem only because there has been a crisis. As Blumenberg – an author which is alas missing from this work – lucidly said, the problem of the lifeworld is that we can only discuss it when we are already outside of it[8]. To employ one of the recurrent metaphors of the work, the collected essays help come to a diagnosis of the problem, rather than properly discussing the therapeutics which are to be used. This volume helps in reconstructing the various strategies that have been employed at various points of the history of phenomenology to figure out what to do with this double resurgence, but it leaves the reader with much work to do, hinting at possible ways to develop further phenomenology (and philosophy). And, maybe, a revolution is truly what is needed to survive the crisis and to preserve the lifeworld as the infinitely rich cradle of meanings. The reader is accompanied through the topic but, following what seems to be a recurring question, the crisis is still present and operating, and the way to contrast it is not yet clear. We can even (provocatively) say that this volume implies the necessity of a crisis for the reader: both a crisis in the reader’s own understanding of “crisis”, which is also what leads the volume again and again to the roots of the lifeworld. Thus, this volume can also be read as an implicit call to action to act towards the safeguard against the crisis and its perpetuity. The absence of a strong final thesis, which is outside the scope of this work, opens up this questioning of the position of the reader himself, who is then sharing both the same Denkergemeinschaft of the authors, and has to face the same problems. While it’s out of the scope of this work g to be “definitive” on the topic, what actually it manages to be is both a good handbook and a useful tool for further research.


[1] See the volume containing both Janicaud’s original essay and the conference-answers originally edited by J-F. Courtine: Phenomenology and the “Theological Turn”: The French Debate, New York, Fordham University Press, 2000.

[2] The reader familiar with Machiavelli can be reminded of what he nicely expressed in his letter to Francesco Vettori (10th of December 1513).

[3] We may also add: in a typical French Catholic fashion. This dynamic of perpetuation and exacerbation of a crisis for therapeutical purposes was already present, for example, in the reactionary critiques of the French Revolution as Joseph de Maistre, or even Léon Bloy.

[4] Hans Blumenberg – who, like Held, also was a pupil of Ludwig Landgrebe as Held himself – did somewhat partially anticipate this kind of interpretation in his seminal “Lebenswelt und Technisierung unter Aspekte der Phänomenologie” (1961, republished H. Blumenberg, Theorie der Lebenswelt, Suhrkamp 2010).

[5] Small, missed opportunity here: the impossibility of direct access of the unconscious offers the same kind of problem of the access to metaphysics. This could have been a further development of what the main point of Carr’s essay was. In general, in all of those cases of impossibility of direct access, a theory of analogy could be the only viable option – but this is, admittedly, extremely complex to think of in strictly phenomenological terms.

[6] Similar problems, with a (sever mis-)use of phenomenology, are seen for example in the debates concerning the Ontological Turn in anthropology.

[7] The Italian reader is somewhat reminded of a similar conclusion by Enzo Melandri, arguably Italy’s greatest philosopher of the past century: “It is therefore always worthwhile to look for analogies in the hope that they will be revolutionary. But it is like looking for a needle in a haystack. There is no shortage of analogies. Should we be interested in the hay? No; verification is found in the needle. What is missing are not analogies, but rather revolutions. We opt for a philosophy of the needle and not the straw. And it stands or falls according to the alternate fortunes of revolution.” (E. Melandri, La linea e il circolo, S. Besoli, R. Brigati eds., Macerata, Quodlibet, 810).

[8] H. Blumenberg, Theorie der Lebenswelt, cit.

Timo Miettinen: Husserl and the Idea of Europe






Husserl and the Idea of Europe Book Cover




Husserl and the Idea of Europe




Studies in Phenomenology and Existential Philosophy





Timo Miettinen





Northwestern University Press




2020




Paperback




256

Reviewed by: Tommi Hjelt (University of Turku)

Husserl’s Phenomenology as Philosophy of Universalism?

In academic discussions of the past decades – at any rate in disciplines linked to the so-called continental philosophy – it has become common practice to view universalistic notions with extreme suspicion. After the Second World War, the insight into the oppressive character of western rationality and the realization that “the project of modernity” has not delivered and cannot deliver on its promise of an ideal society have led to a conviction that all cultural formations, even when (or rather, especially when) making claims to universality, are inevitably partial and contingent. Monolithic teleological models of world history that depict the present as a legitimate moment in a process of inevitable gradual advancement towards ideality have lost their credibility. Universalism has come to be associated with illegitimate expansionism and homogenizing tendencies of western culture, motivated not by innocent benevolence but by fear of indeterminacy and striving for dominance. And yet, while western rationality has been criticized for its false pretensions, there has been a deliberate push for more universality, most notably in the form of universal human rights and international political co-operation (ideals, one has to add, that in the light of current global crises have once again shown their precarious nature, but perhaps also their indispensability). And remarkably, the push for more universalism has gathered most of its impetus from the same tragedies of modernity that seemingly delivered the irrefutable evidence against universalism. As we have witnessed in the last decade or so, the internationalist tendencies have found a new adversary in the right-wing nationalist movements that in their turn call for cultural inviolability often deploying the argument that different cultures and value systems are irredeemably incommensurable. This argument is strikingly reminiscent of postmodernist ideas of pluralism, albeit with one major difference: in setting the nation-state as its reference point it implies cultural uniformity where a postmodernist view would already recognize incommensurable diversity. All in all, what one can gather from present political and theoretical debates is that there is a massive disagreement over universalism, which not only concerns the desirability of it but the definition of the concept itself.

These tensions are the underlying motivation of Timo Miettinen’s study Husserl and the Idea of Europe. Miettinen sets out to formulate a novel understanding of universalism, which could respond to the current “general crisis of universalism” (4) without losing sight of the problems related to universalist attitudes. As Miettinen argues, a similar interest can be seen as the driving force of Edmund Husserl´s late transcendental phenomenology. For many, Husserl still represents a rigorous philosopher of science, who aimed at establishing a methodological foundation of all scientificity on an unhistorical transcendental structure of consciousness, and in this sense, his phenomenology is easy to understand as a universalist undertaking. But Miettinen shows that as Husserl delved ever deeper into the constitution problematic, the simple image of a self-sufficient transcendental structure had to make way for a more complex and nuanced account of situatedness of all human experience, which at the same time called for a radical rethinking of the concept of universalism. The necessary situatedness of experience is, in fact, reflected already in the title of Miettinen’s book. If the book is ultimately about universalism, one might ask, why not call it “Husserl and the idea of universalism”? First of all, Husserl regarded Europe as the broad cultural space where a special kind of universalist culture was established and developed – a culture of theoretical thought, to which he felt obliged as its critical reformer. In this sense, for Husserl, the idea of Europe is the idea of universalism. But the point is more subtle than that: by omitting the notion of universalism from its title the book implies that what follows has European culture as its starting point and as its inescapable horizon. In other words, what is promoted from the very first page onward, is an idea of universalism that constantly reflects on its own situatedness. “To acknowledge Europe as our starting point,” as Miettinen notes later in the book, “means that we take responsibility for our tradition, our own preconceptions.” (133–134).

In keeping with the idea of situatedness, the first part of the book deals with the historical context in which Husserl was developing new ideas that came to be associated with his late transcendental phenomenology. Like many intellectuals of the early 20th century, Husserl interpreted the present time in terms of a general crisis. Even though a “crisis-consciousness” was sweeping Europe at that time, there was no common understanding as to what was the exact nature or the root cause of the present crisis and what conclusions should be drawn from it. This indeterminacy was, in fact, part of its success, for it made the notion viable in different political and philosophical settings. Nevertheless, some common features of the crisis discourse can be delineated, as Miettinen demonstrates. First of all, the idea of a general crisis was not used in a descriptive context, but rather it “was now conceived as a performative act. For the philosophers, intellectuals, and political reformists of the early 20th century, crisis not only signified a certain state of exception, but was also fervently used as an imperative to react, as a demand to take exceptional measures” (27). By the same token, the idea of a crisis was not solely seen in a negative light but at times – as was especially the case with the First World War in its early days – greeted with enthusiastic hope. There was also a certain depth of meaning attached to the crisis. For example, the war wasn’t interpreted as an outcome of some current historical or political development but rather as a “sign” or a “symptom” of “something that essentially belonged to the notion of modernity itself, as a latent disease whose origin was to be discovered through historical reflection” (31).

The need for a historical reassessment of modernity’s past already points to the question, which Miettinen singles out as the most crucial for Husserl’s considerations. Some notable intellectuals of the time viewed the ongoing crisis as evidence that fundamental ideas of modernity, which up to that point had laid claims to universality, had shown themselves to be finite and relative. For instance, Oswald Spengler’s The Decline of the West conceived the development of different world-historical cultures in terms of an ever-repeating lifecycle analogous to that of living organisms and implied that the current crisis was a natural end stage, “the death-struggle” of the western culture: “This struggle was something that all cultures descend into by necessity without the possibility of prevailing through a voluntaristic renewal” (33). In addition, Spengler perceived every culture to have a radically distinct worldview incommensurable with others and encompassing spheres that many would consider as universal, for example, mathematics. While Spengler went to extreme lengths, he was by no means alone in promoting a cultural relativist view. From the early nineteenth century onward a tradition of “historicism,” as it came to be known, had established itself and by the early 20th century it was mainly seen as an idea of radical historical relativism, “that all knowledge is historically determined, and that there is no way to overcome the contingencies of a certain historical period” (38).

According to Miettinen, Husserl had a twofold attitude towards the crisis discourse. In relation to the present-day debates he characterized his own position as that of a “reactionary,”but this did not stop the discourse from having an impact on his thinking. Yet, as Miettinen points out, the impact of popular debates on Husserl’s phenomenology should not be exaggerated either, since the idea of a crisis can be seen at least in two important ways “as a kind of leading clue for Husserl’s whole philosophical project” (45). Already Husserl’s critique of the objectivist attitude in natural sciences can be interpreted this way. For Husserl, the crisis of the western rationalism was linked to the “radical forgetfulness” regarding the experiential origin of its abstractions. In other words, the modern scientific attitude, just like the “natural attitude” of our every-day-life, takes the objective existence of the world for granted without reflecting the activity of meaning constitution, which makes such an “objectivity” possible in the first place. Although this “transcendental naïveté” is already present in the prescientific domain of the natural attitude and hence an unavoidable feature of human experience in general, for Husserl the real reason behind the present crisis was to be found in the triumphant natural scientific attitude of the nineteenth and 20th centuries, which not only forgot but actively attacked the other side of the transcendental relation, the notion of human subjectivity as the domain of self-responsibility and rationality.

On the other hand, however, the possibility of a positive interpretation of crisis was also built into the basic structure of phenomenology: For Husserl, self-responsible theories and cognitions should be ultimately founded on experiential evidence, on the “originary givenness” of the content of consciousness. But if our way of relating to the world nevertheless tends to “habituate” past experience and forget originary givenness, it follows that our judgments need to be constantly led back to the immediate intuitive evidence. If judgments then happen to reveal themselves as unfounded, a crisis ensues: “From the perspective of acquired beliefs, judgments, and values, a crisis signifies a loss of evidence, a situation in which our convictions have lost their intuitive foundation” (49). At this point the underlying argument of the whole book begins to shine through. Husserl saw the crisis as a possibility of cultural renewal, which called for a self-responsible, i.e. self-critical attitude towards values, convictions, and beliefs. The idea of renewal opposes “false objectivity” by reinstating the relation between genuine human agency and objectivity. But most of all it combats the passivity and fatalism inherent in theories of radical cultural relativity and finitude endorsed by the likes of Spengler. Husserl argued that even though cultural limits must always be considered in self-critical assessments of one’s own situation, these limits are not set in stone but redefinable through self-responsible, self-critical human agency.

In summary, the first part of Miettinen’s book gives an account of Husserl that seeks a balance between cultural situatedness (crisis as “crisis-consciousness”) and inherent logical development of phenomenology (crisis as an overarching theme in Husserl’s project in general). The contextualization does offer an interesting perspective on Husserl’s late phenomenology by drawing comparisons between some main features of the crisis discourse and Husserl’s thoughts. But there is still a certain one-sidedness to the narrative. Miettinen follows the general crisis discourse only up to the point where it becomes possible to distinguish Husserl’s reflections on the crisis, which, as we saw, concentrated amongst other things on the issue of “false objectivism.” However, false objectivism was not an exclusively Husserlian idea, but rather one of the most central themes of the intellectual debate of the early 20th century, and, in fact, of the crisis discourse itself. It was, after all, the problem of objective spirit assuming an independent existence from subjective spirit, which constituted for Georg Simmel “the tragedy of culture” (see Simmel 1919). And it was the issue of reification, which Georg Lukács situated at the core of his History and Class-Consciousness. For Lukács, one of the most disadvantageous effects of the capitalist society was the emergence of a contemplative attitude, which takes the surrounding world as an objectivity that has no intrinsic connection with the subject – a very similar strain of passivity that Husserl was opposing. (See e.g. Honneth 2015, 20–29). One is compelled to ask, then, whether a more thorough comparison of Husserl’s ideas with those of his contemporaries could have shed some new light on the historical situatedness of phenomenology itself.

Even though Husserl did not accept the thesis of radical cultural relativism, he had to reevaluate the role of situatedness in the phenomenological problem of constitution. The second part of Miettinen’s study gives a concise overview on topics related to these questions. First, Husserl became exceedingly aware that acts of meaning-constitution have their own historicity, that they are made possible by prior achievements. The domain of “static phenomenology” needed to be complemented with “genetic phenomenology,” which was to concern itself with descriptions of “how certain intentional relations and forms of experience emerge on the basis of others,” or more broadly “what kinds of attitudes, experiences, or ideas make possible the emergence of others” (62). This opened a set of phenomena that Husserl addressed with a whole host of new concepts. Miettinen manages to introduce this terminology remarkably well by giving concise yet intuitive characterizations that make the general point of genetic phenomenology come across. A reader only superficially acquainted with phenomenology might still take exception to the fact that there are hardly any practical examples of these abstract concepts, and when there are, some of them seem unnecessarily complicated. Take, for instance, the illustration of the term “sedimentation,” which, as Miettinen explains, “refers to the stratification of meaning or individual acts that takes place over the course of time” (64). However, he illustrates this by referring to development of motor skills in early childhood: “children often learn to walk by first acquiring the necessary gross motor skills by crawling and standing against objects. These abilities, in their turn, are enabled by a series of kinesthetic and proprioceptic faculties (the sense of balance, muscle memory, etc.)” (64). As much as acquiring new skills on the basis of prior ones has to do with sedimentation, the emphasis on abstract motor skills leads to a set of problems concerning the complicated topics of “embodiment” and “kinesthesia,” which are quite unrelated to the questions that Miettinen is principally addressing.

Nevertheless, Miettinen describes comprehensibly how questions related to genetic phenomenology led Husserl ever deeper into questions of historicity and cultural situatedness. As the phenomenological problematic expanded to encompass the genesis of meaning-constitution, the notion of transcendental subjectivity had to undergo a parallel conceptual broadening. The abstract transcendental ego made way for a more concrete and historical account of the transcendental person: “We do not merely ‘live through’ individual acts, but these acts have the tendency to create lasting tendencies, patterns, and intentions that have constitutive significance” (64–65). In other words, the transcendental person evolves through habituating certain ways of experiencing that, once internalized, work as the taken-for-granted basis for new experiences. But Husserl’s inquiry to the historical prerequisites of meaning constitution did not stop there either. What becomes habitual to a transcendental person, goes beyond the historicity of the person itself, for the genesis is not a solipsistic process but an interpersonal and intergenerational one, where ways of meaning constitution are “passed forward.” Husserl’s umbrella term for problems of this kind was “generativity.” As Miettinen points out, it was the notion of generativity that really opened up a genuine historical dimension in Husserl’s phenomenology, with far-reaching consequences: “Becoming a part of a human community that transcends my finite being means that we are swept into this complex process of tradition precisely in the form of the ‘passing forward’ (Lat. tradere) of sense: we find ourselves in a specific historical situation defined by a nexus of cultural objectivities and practices, and social and political institutions” (68–69).

In this way, generativity points to another turning point in the problem of constitution, the constitution of social world through intersubjectivity. Unlike natural or cultural objects, other subjects are given to me as entities that “carry within themselves a personal world of experience to which I have no direct access” (72). This “alien experience” nevertheless refers to a common world and in doing so “plays a crucial role in my personal world-constitution” (72). That is to say: the meaning of a shared and objective validity is bestowed on my world only in relation to other world-constituting subjects. The lifeworld, which is constituted as the common horizon of intersubjective relations, acquires “its particular sense through an encounter with the other” (75). It is easy to see what Miettinen is driving at: if a lifeworld emerges in intersubjective relations, then it is not only in a constant state of historical change but also, especially in the case of an encounter with an alien tradition, open for active redefinition and renewal. However, this renewal cannot just be a matter of transgressing the boundaries between different traditions, as Miettinen makes clear by pointing to the constitutive value of the division between “homeworld” (i.e. the domain of familiarity or shared culture), and “alienworld” (the unintelligible and unfamiliar “outside”). According to Husserl this division belongs to the fundamental structure of every lifeworld, and in a sense, the homeworld acquires its individual uniqueness, its intelligibility and familiarity only in relation to its alien counterpart. It follows, that if the distinction between the home and the alien were to be destroyed through one-sided transgression, the experience of an intersubjectively constituted, shared cultural horizon of meaning would vanish with it, or, as Miettinen sums it up: “In a world without traditions, we would be simply homeless” (78).

This poses a question: if a tradition by necessity has its horizon, i.e. its limits, which cannot be simply transgressed without losing the sense of home altogether, how is universalism thinkable? The third part of Miettinen’s study suggests that Husserl’s generative interpretation of the origins of European theoretical tradition provides the answer to this question. Miettinen gives a manifold and nuanced account of the historical origins of Greek philosophy and of Husserl’s interpretations thereof. Obviously, this account cannot be repeated here in its entirety; an overview of such defining features that point directly to the underlying problematic of universalism will have to suffice.

In this regard the key argument of Husserl, which Miettinen accordingly emphasizes, is that philosophy itself is a generative phenomenon. What makes this idea so striking, is the fact that for Husserl philosophy denoted a “scientific-theoretical attitude,” which takes distance from immediate practical interests, views the world from a perspective of a “disinterested spectator,” and in so doing seeks to disclose the universal world behind all particular homeworlds. However, according to Husserl, even such a theoretical attitude emerged in a specific cultural situation, namely in the Greek city-states, which, as Miettinen points out, were at that time in a state of rapid economic development that called for closer commercial ties between different cultures: “Close interaction between different city-states created a new sensitivity toward different traditions and their beliefs and practices” (95). The encounters did not lead to a loss of the home-alien-division but to a heightened sense of relativity of traditions, which in turn promoted a theoretical interest in universality and a self-reflective attitude towards the horizon of one’s own homeworld: “Through the encounter of particular traditions, no single tradition could acquire for itself the status of being an absolute foundation – the lifeworld could no longer be identified with a particular homeworld and its conceptuality” (97).

Another important generative aspect of this development was the emerging new ideals of social interaction. The Greek philosophy gave birth to an idea of “universal community,” which, at least in principle, disregarded ethnic, cultural, and political divisions and was open to all of those who were willing to partake in free philosophical critique of particular traditions and striving toward a universal and shared world. Moreover, the emerging theoretical thought organized itself as a tradition of sorts, as an intergenerational undertaking that was aware of its generativity. Miettinen avoids calling this new form of culture “tradition,” for it “did not simply replace the traditionality of the pre-philosophical world by instituting a new tradition; rather, it replaced the very idea of traditionality with teleological directedness, or with a new ‘teleological sense’ (Zwecksinn) which remains fundamentally identical despite historical variation.” (111) This unifying idea of an infinite task meant that what was ultimately passed forward from generation to generation, was not some predetermined custom, ritual or even a doctrine but a common intergenerational commitment to the task itself. In other words, the theories of earlier philosophers were in principle open for criticism and had to be assessed always anew in relation to the shared goal of universality. Philosophy was generative also in the sense that it didn’t cast the world of practical interests aside, but rather called for a new kind of rational attitude towards it. Philosophy understood its own domain of interest in terms of universal ideals and norms, which were ultimately to be made use of in the practical sphere of life as well. As philosophical ideals came into contact with practical life, for example with political or religious practice, they changed the surrounding culture itself. As Miettinen puts it, “politics and religion themselves became philosophical: they acquired a new sense in accordance with the infinite task of philosophy” (114).

As stated, Miettinen offers a detailed discussion of Husserl’s views on the origins of European universalism, which, among other things, acknowledges that Husserl’s interpretations of classical Greek philosophy and culture are heavily influenced by his own philosophical ideals. Miettinen’s portrayal does suffer a bit from the multiperspectivity implicit in the subject matter itself. It is not always clear, which parts are meant as presentations of genuine Greek philosophy, which as Husserl’s idealistic interpretations, and which as Miettinen’s own contributions. But the main idea is still quite clear: Husserl interpreted European history from classical Greek culture all the way to his own time in terms of an infinite task that consists first and foremost in critically reflecting and relativizing traditional horizons of meaning constitution. The intergenerational collectivity unified by this task subjects its own accomplishments to the same criticism and strives through infinite renewal towards a universal world behind all traditional homeworlds, towards the “horizon of horizons” (75), as Miettinen calls it with reference to Merleau-Ponty. As the formulation “horizon of horizons” implies, the point of this universalism is not to destroy or occupy but to make the universal lifeworld visible, of which particular traditions, particular homeworlds are perspectives. This is the understanding of universality that Miettinen wants to bring to the contemporary theoretical and political discussions.

But if Husserl conceived the whole of European history within the framework of one massive idealistic undertaking, it seems that Husserl’s understanding of history and historicity amounts to nothing more than a new version of the age-old teleological model, which interprets – and simultaneously legitimizes – historical events as part of a monolithic and predetermined process. In other words, maybe Husserl’s generative interpretation is just another “grand narrative.” In part 4 of his study, Miettinen offers a twofold argument against this assumption. First, Husserl did not understand his teleological model as one that ought to correspond with empirical reality, but rather as Dichtung, as “a poetic act of creation” (145), which has its relevance only in relation to the present situation. Second, Miettinen argues in reference to Marx and Engels that narratives are necessary in criticism of ideologies, for “[i]t is the common feature of dominating ideologies that they seek to do away with their own genesis, for instance by concealing the historical forms of violence and oppression that led to the present. For this reason, historical narratives are needed in order to criticize the seeming naturality of the present moment – in order to show its dependency and relativity in regard to the past” (139). This idea is perfectly in tune with the Husserlian problem of constitution in general and it reinforces the critique of “false objectivism” and the call for self-responsible human agency at the core of Husserl’s late phenomenology. In other words, his notion of teleology should be understood as a critical tool for understanding the finitude of the present and the possibility of going beyond it, or as Miettinen succinctly puts it: “Teleological reflection is crucial, because we are ‘not yet’ at the end of history, or, more precisely: because we constantly think we are” (144).

While this argument is compelling, it still seems to neglect one important aspect in the complicated relationship between ideology and narrative. Not all ideologies are aimed at legitimizing the present as a natural order; on the contrary, some rely on a narrative structure that depicts the current state of affairs as a fall from grace and shows the way out by defining clear-cut ideals to realize. Instead of serving the purpose of legitimizing the present and making subjects passively accept the alleged naturality of it, ideologies of this kind, as Peter V. Zima (1999, 14–21) points out, serve to mobilize people for certain goals, to make them able to act. And precisely ideologies of this kind came under suspicion in the interwar period. As one can read from Musil’s The Man Without Qualities, the ambivalence of all “grand ideas” undermines the credibility of ideologies, narrative structures, and goal-oriented agency all at once (see Ibid., 55–69). This connectedness of narrative form and ideology shouldn’t be taken too lightly in the present political climate either: the most pressing ideological challenges of Europe aren’t, as they perhaps once were, concerned with the loss of ideals in politics or in individual life, arguably facilitated by neoliberalist and postmodernist ideologies, but rather with its dialectical counterpart: the threat of ideological mobilization. The critical potentiality of Husserl’s notion of teleology doesn’t quite seem to allay the suspicions concerned with ideologies of this kind, or if it does, Miettinen doesn’t make clear how.

What obviously makes Miettinen’s study stand apart, is its unique position at the crossroads of traditional Husserl scholarship, history of ideas, and contemporary political philosophy. It not only shows how Husserl’s ideas about historicity, situatedness, and teleology emerged out of the interplay of his phenomenological endeavor and the cultural context saturated with crisis-consciousness; it also seeks to bring these ideas to fruition in the contemporary political and philosophical setting. This kind of hermeneutical approach to Husserl’s philosophy is of course to be whole-heartedly endorsed, but on the other hand, the “in between” -character of the undertaking does also raise some issues: If Miettinen wants to promote a new kind of universalism, which aims at addressing contemporary questions in a novel way, then a more thorough discussion on newer developments in philosophical and political thought might be in order. In keeping with the idea of situatedness, it would be interesting to see Miettinen seriously engaging with contemporary theories, starting perhaps with a more systematic treatment of postmodernist notions of pluralism and going all the way to ideas attributed to the so-called post-humanism, which seems to once again challenge “alien-home”-distinctions in a profound way. In order to highlight the distinct character of his ideas on relativization of horizons, communality, and normativity, he might do well to also define his relation to some contemporary “kindred spirits” (for example, Habermas comes to mind). All in all, one can look forward to Miettinen developing his theory of universalism further, and as he does, he will undoubtedly address these minor issues, too.

References:

Honneth, Axel. 2015. Verdinglichung. Eine Anerkennungstheoretische Studie. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp.

Simmel, Georg. 1919. “Der Begriff und die Tragödie der Kultur.” In: Philosophische Kultur. Gesammelte Essais. Leipzig: Alfred Kröner, 223–253.

Zima, Peter V. 1999. Roman und Ideologie. Zur Sozialgeschichte des modernen Romans. München: Wilhelm Fink.

Timo Miettinen: Husserl and the Idea of Europe, Northwestern University Press, 2020






Husserl and the Idea of Europe Book Cover




Husserl and the Idea of Europe




Studies in Phenomenology and Existential Philosophy





Timo Miettinen





Northwestern University Press




2020




Paperback $34.95




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