Pierre Guenancia: La voie de la conscience, Husserl, Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, Ricœur. Une histoire personnelle de la philosophie, Puf, 2018

La voie de la conscience, Husserl, Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, Ricœur. Une histoire personnelle de la philosophie Book Cover La voie de la conscience, Husserl, Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, Ricœur. Une histoire personnelle de la philosophie
Pierre Guenancia
Puf
2018
Paperback 19,00 €
220

Toon Horsten: De pater en de filosoof. De redding van het Husserl-archief, Uitgeverij Vrijdag, 2018

De pater en de filosoof. De redding van het Husserl-archief Book Cover De pater en de filosoof. De redding van het Husserl-archief
Toon Horsten
Uitgeverij Vrijdag
2018
Paperback € 22,50

Edmund Husserl: Meditazioni cartesiane

Meditazioni cartesiane Book Cover Meditazioni cartesiane
Germanica
Edmund Husserl. Andrea Altobrando (Ed.)
Orthotes Editrice
2017
Paperback € 18,00
202

Reviewed by: Daniele Valli (Università degli Studi di Milano)

Le due Meditazioni

Il ruolo di René Descartes (1596 – 1650) nella storia della filosofia occidentale è sempre stato controverso. Da un lato le enormi innovazioni portate in ambito geometrico-analitico e dall’altro le dirompenti teorie metafisiche hanno reso il dibattito sul filosofo francese da sempre acceso, nel costituirsi di schieramenti di tenaci sostenitori e irremovibili oppositori. Del resto, le idee che egli ha introdotto nel panorama intellettuale del suo tempo erano così audaci da non lasciar spazio all’indifferenza. Anche Edmund Husserl (1859 – 1938), padre della fenomenologia trascendentale, anch’egli propositore di un sistema filosofico in contrasto con gli schemi tradizionali, non poté fare a meno che confrontarsi con l’illustre autore delle Meditazioni Metafisiche (1641). Proprio questo testo, infatti, è divenuto nella filosofia occidentale un riferimento imprescindibile per ogni programma di fondazione prima della conoscenza. Entrambi gli autori, infatti, si propongono come fautori di una filosofia radicale. Essi intendono trovare quel terreno certissimo al di sopra del quale sia legittimo costituire ogni conoscenza. Non si può certo dire, tuttavia, che i due percorsi filosofici conducano alle medesime conclusioni. La fenomenologia husserliana nasce nei primissimi anni del ‘900, quando il filosofo tedesco elabora un pensiero originale sulla base delle lezioni del suo “geniale maestro”, psicologo e filosofo, Franz Brentano (1838 – 1917). Husserl propone una conversione antipsicologistica delle grandi scoperte dal suo professore, costituendo una dottrina teoretica completa. Le Meditazioni Cartesiane (1931) ne rappresentano un manifesto esemplare e vengono oggi riproposte al pubblico italiano in un’ottima traduzione di Andrea Altobrando, che non risparmia l’asprezza della prosa del filosofo tedesco pur di restituirci fedelmente il suo pensiero. Esse vennero in prima istanza pubblicate in lingua francese nel 1931 con il titolo ditations Cartésiennes, sebbene risalgano ad una conferenza tenuta da Husserl alla Sorbona il 23 e 25 febbraio del 1929. Per la prima edizione tedesca bisognerà attendere il dopoguerra, quando nel 1950 vengono pubblicate con il titolo Cartesianische Meditationen und Pariser Vorträge a cura di Stephan Strasser. Le Meditazioni Cartesiane appaiono dunque quando il pensiero husserliano si è già affermato in ambito internazionale da oltre un decennio e il filosofo tedesco si è già ritirato dall’insegnamento. Tuttavia Husserl sembra qui avere la necessità di riproporre il suo sistema in una nuova veste. Esse, infatti, non seguono il tipico procedere della prosa husserliana, meticolosamente analitica e sistematica. Qui l’approccio è diverso: egli sviluppa la sua argomentazione seguendo una trama narrativa che riprende l’impostazione delle Meditazioni Metafisiche. L’opera, infatti, è organizzata non sulla base di una suddivisione tematica dei contenuti trattati, bensì in una successione di passaggi deduttivi. Muovendosi dalle stesse premesse del filosofo francese, egli intraprende un percorso espositivo originale che procede verticalmente per livelli. Husserl, infatti, riprende il problema fondamentale posto da Descartes nelle Meditazioni Metafisiche e ne offre una proposta risolutiva fondata su una progressiva introduzione alla fenomenologia trascendentale. Egli è infatti rimasto molto colpito dalla brillantezza del filosofo francese nel rappresentare il dramma epistemologico della cultura occidentale: “Esse [le Meditazioni Metafisiche] costituiscono piuttosto il modello delle meditazioni necessarie a qualunque filosofo principiante, meditazioni dalle quali soltanto una filosofia può originariamente svilupparsi.”. Descartes ha inquadrato con genialità la questione irrisolta della metafisica: in virtù di cosa può una conoscenza ritenersi legittima? Qual è il criterio fondante della scientificità? Egli propone una progressiva e sistematica messa in discussione di ogni aspetto dell’esperienza umana alla ricerca di ciò che è essenzialmente indubitabile, di ciò che è al di fuori di ogni possibilità di errore, del punto immobile su cui edificare il grande universo del sapere. Questa operazione di ricerca assoluta rimasta nota come “dubbio iperbolico” è resa attuale nella proposta cartesiana tramite l’ipotesi del genio maligno, ovvero l’ipotesi di per sé non confutabile dell’esistenza di un Dio malvagio che mi inganni in ogni istante, facendomi cadere in errore ogni volta che ho un percezione, che esprimo una valutazione o che calcoli un risultato matematico. Così, seguendo tale ragionamento, nessuna delle conoscenze per me valide nella quotidianità sembra potersi dire al riparo dalla possibilità di essere falsa. Com’è noto, tuttavia, Descartes ritiene di individuare una certezza apodittica e fuori da ogni potenziale dubbio nell’espressione “ego cogito, ego sum”: se mi persuado dell’esistenza di un genio ingannatore dovrò pur, almeno io stesso, oggetto dell’inganno, essere qualcosa. In altre parole, “se penso, sono”. L’argomentazione cartesiana si sviluppa poi, partendo da tale assunto, nel configurare una dottrina dualistica della realtà, divisa in res cogitans e res extensa, dottrina che sarà sottoposta a severe critiche lungo tutto il corso dell’età moderna e oltre. L’impostazione husserliana, come detto, intende riprendere le suggestioni delle Meditazioni Metafisiche. In particolare, il filosofo tedesco è stimolato dall’idea della dubitabilità strutturale delle certezze naturali. Cosa c’è di sicuro nell’esperienza del mondo? A partire da questo interrogativo, le strade dei due pensatori si dividono. Se infatti Descartes risponde “Ego cogito” e ciò gli è sufficiente, Husserl risponde “Ego cogito cogitata qua cogitata”. Il terreno della soggettività dischiusosi tramite l’esercizio del dubbio non può, secondo Husserl, essere considerato un ritaglio di apoditticità del mondo naturale. Il soggetto naturalmente inteso, psicologico, positivo, non è legittimamente escluso dalla dimensione dell’incertezza. La sola forma di soggettività realmente al di fuori di ogni possibile messa in discussione è la soggettività che emerge dall’operare le proprie cogitazioni, in quanto correlato di ogni cogitazione. Le cogitazioni si danno, si offrono nella loro manifestazione esperienziale: si può dubitare della valenza ontica del mondo naturale, ma non del suo puro darsi in atti cogitativi. L’offrirsi delle cose in quanto correlati d’esperienza (cogitata qua cogitata) è ciò di cui non si può ragionevolmente dubitare: esse si offrono in manifestazioni e, a prescindere dalla rispettiva valenza ontologica, stanno lì, presenziano. A partire da queste osservazioni il filosofo tedesco sviluppa progressivamente un percorso teoretico che condurrà all’esposizione della fenomenologia trascendentale. In questo modo egli vuole sottolineare come il suo sistema si ponga come formulazione teorica fondata su basi aprioristiche: le sue fondamenta sono estraibili da quel percorso radicalissimo con cui Descartes ha fondato la filosofia moderna ed esso ne si presenta pertanto come paradigma risolutivo. I passi, tuttavia, con cui si propone di arrivare al compimento del sistema fenomenologico partendo dal dubbio cartesiano sono diversi. Anche egli, infatti, divide i passaggi argomentativi in distinte meditazioni di cui ognuna costituisce la premessa della successiva, per un totale di cinque meditazioni (Descartes ne avanzò sei).

Prima meditazione

Il percorso neocartesiano intrapreso da Husserl esordisce tematizzando il problema della scienza. Le scienze di fatto, o positive, presentano un modello gnoseologico ben strutturato: esse si propongono di svelare i meccanismi della natura tramite il metodo osservativo e sperimentale che si è costituito nel corso della loro genesi. Si è inoltre radicata la credenza culturale per cui ogni forma di conoscenza certa dovesse seguire il medesimo approccio. Anche Descartes, secondo il filosofo tedesco, era in fondo persuaso di tale lettura, e coltivava l’idea di una scienza universale costituita sulla base del sistema deduttivo proprio della geometria, di cui egli fu un grande teorico. Questa proiezione del sistema analitico-deduttivo sul problema della fondazione assoluta della conoscenza fu, secondo Husserl, un primo equivoco. Non sarebbe lecito, infatti, costituire un nuovo ideale di scienza sulla base di un prodotto culturale già fornito. Nella prospettiva di una ricostituzione radicale della teoria della conoscenza è infatti necessario eliminare ogni presupposto, costruendo in maniera priva di preconcetti le regole di una conoscenza legittima. La validità delle scienze positive, in altre parole, pur fornendo esse delle ricette epistemologicamente e tecnologicamente valide, ha comunque l’esigenza di una fondazione. Queste fondazione, del resto, è proprio la fondazione di cui entrambi i pensatori sono alla ricerca: il disvelamento del terreno puro su cui ogni conoscenza, scientifica o teoretica, possa dirsi indubitabilmente costituita. Da cosa, quindi, partire per edificare un simile edificio in assenza, apparente, di alcun attrezzo da lavoro? Husserl propone a questo proposito di considerare il senso della scienza a partire da una analisi fenomenica e descrittiva. Cosa rende l’ideale della scienza così forte? In cosa si caratterizza la struttura manifestativa del processo scientifico? La struttura deduttiva del giudizio esibisce una catena di predicazioni in cui ogni asserzione funge da premessa e da legittimazione di quella successiva. Il meccanismo, dunque, si mostra come una stratificazione di conoscenze orientato ad una progressiva e sempre maggiore chiarificazione del sapere. Husserl ritiene che, procedendo a ritroso, si possa accedere in questo modo all’idea prima di “evidenza”. Cosa innesca, infatti, il ciclo auto-edificante della scienza? Egli ritiene sia proprio la proprietà fenomenologicamente pregnante del “darsi come evidente” della natura. Ogni giudizio scientifico, come detto, si origina su una precedente forma di sapere e il carattere dell’evidenza in questo ciclo esercita una funzione essenziale. Essa si pone come l’elemento eideticamente peculiare del conoscere, sia nella sua forma giudicativa che in quella originaria. Il filosofo tedesco distingue, infatti, l’evidenza predicativa da quella antepredicativa. La prima è quella forma di evidenza sillogistica per cui una concatenazione di asserzioni propone conclusioni giustificate sulla base delle rispettive premesse. Tuttavia, tali premesse devono fondarsi a loro volta su altre precedenti, e così via. In questa linea deduttiva l’origine della proprietà predicativa dell’evidenza non può che essere antepredicativa, ovvero non può che sorgere nel terreno primordiale del puro darsi, prima di ogni presa di posizione assertiva. Il punto di partenza intrascurabile deve essere, per queste ragioni, proprio quello dell’evidenza antepredicativa. Essa esercita un ruolo primario nello svilupparsi della funzione di credenza, fondamentale tanto nella dimensione epistemologica quanto in quella gnoseologica in generale. E’ l’esperienza stessa, infatti, ad offrire nella sua forma peculiare le ragioni della fondazione del sapere: in un certo senso, gli oggetti si offrono prescientificamente già come “tali da essere creduti certi”. Tuttavia, Husserl mette in guardia, è opportuno tematizzare un’ulteriore analisi critica dell’idea di evidenza. Da un lato, infatti, si dà il carattere evidente degli oggetti della natura, del loro semplice darsi precategoriale, dall’altro si dà il concetto di evidenza apodittica. Effettivamente il mondo naturale si offre nella nostra esperienza come evidente e noi sappiamo di essere, in fondo, tenuti a crederci. Tuttavia, questa forma di evidenza, che è la stessa che si costituisce nell’esperienza antepredicativa originando quella predicativa, è lungi dall’essere apodittica. Come mostrato nell’introduzione, infatti, è sempre per principio possibile avanzare dei dubbi sulla veridicità di taluni eventi d’esperienza, e, nell’ipotesi del genio maligno, persino dell’esperienza nella sua totalità. L’evidenza del mondo naturale pertanto, anche se si presenta come la ragione genetica della credibilità empirica delle scienze positive, non si offre come aggancio legittimo per una costituzione universalmente fondata del sapere. Ciò di cui sia Descartes che Husserl sono alla ricerca, infatti, è un’evidenza apodittica, ovvero assolutamente certa. L’ego cogito giunge qui in nostro soccorso: il soggetto nella sua operatività intenzionale offre un terreno del tutto al di fuori di ogni sospetto, il terreno della manifestatività. Sì può infatti dubitare di questo o di quell’accadimento esperienziale, ci si può spingere fino a dubitare interamente di ogni accadimento, ma non si potrà certo dubitare del “darsi” di tali accadimenti. Le cose del mondo ci si offrono a prescindere dal loro valore ontologico e a prescindere dal nostro atteggiamento speculativo nei loro confronti. Da qui, afferma Husserl, soltanto da questa dimensione certissima può originarsi un’autentica teoria della conoscenza. Descartes, pur avendo il merito storico di porre il problema del sapere in questi termini, secondo il filosofo tedesco era già a questo punto della ricerca sui binari sbagliati. Egli avrebbe infatti finito per confondere il soggetto trascendentale con una porzione indubitabile del mondo: esso, al contrario, non può essere affatto considerato come un indubitabile tra i dubitabili, come un’isola di certezza al centro dell’ oceano tempestoso del dubbio. Il soggetto trascendentale non è altro che il punto estremo di quella correlazione originaria che è l’intenzionalità, quella formazione a priori in cui l’esperienza si offre proprio e soltanto in quanto tale.

Seconda meditazione

Il grande risultato a cui la prima meditazione conduce è il disvelamento del soggetto trascendentale. Con il trascendentale si apre infatti un nuovo ordine di argomentazioni che non si riferisce più al mondo naturale, come inconsapevolmente Descartes fece, bensì si riferisce al modo del suo porsi nella pura esperienza. Il Cogito viene infatti da Husserl ripensato, escludendo la sua componente positiva e formulando l’inedito binomio “cogito – cogitationes”. Il Cogito non è più, di fatto, una parte indubitabile del mondo, ma è il polo soggettivo degli atti cogitativi in cui si dispongono gli eventi di esperienza, le “cogitationes”. Non si dà, in altre parole, una soggettività in assenza degli atti intenzionali in cui la natura si manifesta, e solo questa consapevolezza è aprioristicamente al di fuori di ogni ragionevole dubbio. Così, nella seconda meditazione Husserl distingue una “riflessione naturale” da una “riflessione trascendentale”. Con tali espressioni egli si riferisce alla tipica distinzione tra atteggiamento naturale e atteggiamento fenomenologico, due distinti approcci nei confronti dell’esperienza che egli teorizza in ogni sua introduzione alla fenomenologia a partire da Idee I (1913). Da un lato, infatti, abbiamo l’atteggiamento della quotidianità, non speculativo e immerso nelle credenze proprie del nostro comune rapporto con il mondo, dall’altro l’atteggiamento fenomenologicamente ridotto, quello che tramite l’atto dell’epoché sospende le credenze abituali e conferisce uno sguardo descrittivo e trascendentale sugli eventi d’esperienza. Si tratta dunque proprio della fenomenologia trascendentale, la cui funzione viene in questo testo viene esibita tramite il percorso cartesiano. L’intenzionalità rappresenta l’universale a priori della correlazione, quella funzione originaria entro cui si stabilisce il rapporto tra soggetto trascendentale e oggetto d’esperienza. Ogni atto cogitativo, ogni cogitatio, ha sempre un riferimento esperienziale: ogni attività di coscienza è infatti coscienza-di-qualcosa. Questo legame inscindibile, caratterizzante ogni esperienza, consente di distinguere gli oggetti dell’esperienza dai rispettivi vissuti. Infatti ogni oggettualità ci si offre entro specifici decorsi percettivi, i quali, pur variando, rimangono orientati al medesimo correlato. In questa prima distinzione fenomenologica si inquadrano già quelle due componenti, noesi e noema[i], centrali nell’intero discorso husserliano. Tali nozioni divengono infatti fondamentali nello spiegare come dalla molteplicità del sensibile si costituiscano eideticamente delle singolarità proprie, che trascendono la propria manifestazione pur originandosi in essa. Secondo Husserl nell’attività intenzionale esiste una componente sintetica che è in grado di conferire unità formale ai suoi contenuti. Egli si riferisce alla sintesi temporale, quell’operazione che connette temporalmente atti distinti in medesimi vissuti e che viene da lui teorizzata a partire dagli anni ‘20. La vita intenzionale si caratterizza infatti per disporre di una temporalità la cui presenza è condizione fenomenologica imprescindibile per il costituirsi di oggetti singolari. Questi ultimi infatti accolgono la pluralità noetica delle manifestazioni, rendendosene correlati ultimi. Inoltre, pur costituendosi essi nell’immanenza dei relativi decorsi, il loro significato non si esaurisce mai al loro interno. Nell’esperire un certo oggetto la nostra funzione cognitiva va oltre il suo mero manifestarsi, cogliendone una struttura propria, piena, a tutto tondo. Esso ci si offre sempre prospetticamente, per adombramenti, e per quanto non appaia mai nella sua pienezza ciò che cogliamo non è una porzione di oggetto ma un oggetto intero ed autentico. In ogni decorso d’esperienza si dà, in altre parole, la possibilità di “intendere-di-più” [Mehrmeinung], offrendo strutturalmente la possibilità di andare oltre lo specifico supporto sensibile. Questa “potenzialità predelineata” è ciò che ci consente di parlare di una “trascendenza nell’immanenza” , di un’eccedenza costitutiva tra oggetto e atto della propria presentazione. La ricerca fenomenologica, e con questa osservazione Husserl conclude la seconda meditazione, si delinea dunque come il tentativo di percorrere queste potenzialità proprie dell’esperienza, nella volontà di esplicitare quei caratteri ancora non rivelati della pura manifestatività.

Terza meditazione

Con la terza meditazione Husserl introduce una problematica che accompagna la ricerca fenomenologica già dai suoi primi esordi. Come spiega nelle prime righe, nelle prime due meditazioni egli ha affrontato il problema dell’esperienza riferendosi agli oggetti in senso vasto, nella loro struttura generalissima. Avverte tuttavia l’esigenza di problematizzare ora le modalità delle manifestazione, introducendo dunque delle distinzioni qualitative tra atti e tra correlati. Come detto, la questione dei modi di datità è una componente fondamentale del programma husserliano. Egli riscontra, infatti, delle proprietà fenomenologiche diverse nelle diverse modalità di presentazione della natura, e considera essenziale operarne un’esplicitazione. L’evidenza del mondo naturale torna qui come oggetto di riflessione: essa è infatti una specifica modalità di manifestazione dell’esperienza. Precisamente, essa qualifica il carattere di realtà del mondo, attribuendogli quell’universo di credenze proprio dell’atteggiamento naturale. Nella quotidianità infatti noi percepiamo uno stato di cose a cui siamo spontaneamente portati a credere. In un certo senso, come dice Husserl, noi abbiamo a che fare con oggettualità il cui esserci è scontato, creduto, presupposto. Solo nell’atteggiamento speculativo e poi in quello fenomenologico siamo in grado di dubitarne e poi di sospenderne il giudizio. La natura ci si auto-offre instaurando un rapporto di fiducia a cui non possiamo rinunciare: ci si offre “originariamente”. Parallelamente al modo della realtà, si trova quello che Husserl definisce “quasi-realtà”, ovvero la fantasia. Fantasia, tuttavia, che è da intendere non come facoltà creatrice e creativa, ma come atto della presentificazione. Laddove esiste quella evidenza originaria, infatti, si ha a che fare con una realtà: al contrario, dove essa manca si offre una presentificazione, una presenza nel “come-se”, un’aleggiare in fronte a me di qualcosa il cui esistere è manifestamente non implicito. La natura, afferma infine Husserl, proprio per le distinte qualità del suo darsi si raggruppa in distinte “regioni ontologiche”. Oggetti con proprietà simili staranno così nei medesimi insiemi, determinando una classificazione generale delle oggettualità del mondo, formali e materiali. Anche in questo caso, tuttavia, il problema è soltanto accennato, senza essere debitamente sviluppato come invece accade in altre ricerche. Si evidenzia infatti come l’intenzione del filosofo tedesco in questo testo non sia quella di svolgere una compiuta indagine fenomenologica, quanto più di introdurla, inserendola all’interno di quella tradizione di pensiero che Descartes ha avuto il merito di inaugurare.

Quarta meditazione

Una questione su cui Husserl ne le Meditazioni Cartesiane si sofferma al punto da offrirne una approfondita analisi è quella dell’Io trascendentale. La quarta e la quinta meditazione, infatti, esaminano da più punti di vista la costituzione della soggettività, nel suo definirsi in una rete pluri-soggettiva. In particolare, nella quarta egli afferma che l’Io trascendentale è, innanzitutto, “polo identico dei vissuti”. La struttura dell’intenzionalità infatti presenta due estremità legate in un’unica correlazione. Da un lato la dimensione soggettiva, dall’altro la dimensione oggettuale. Quest’ultima, quando presente con carattere d’evidenza si auto-esplicita come “lì in sé stessa”: tuttavia questa autonomia originaria rimane inseparabile dalla relazione al soggetto, che mantiene per principio il suo carattere di apriorità. Allo stesso modo il soggetto, per quanto costituito in un’autocoscienza egologica, rimane inscindibile dal rapporto intenzionale. Ogni atto di coscienza è coscienza-di-qualcosa, ma reciprocamente ogni presenza oggettuale è presenza-a-qualcosa. In questa duplice inscindibilità originaria si cela l’essenza propria dell’intenzionalità, ovvero quella funzione correlativa universale e a priori di ogni evento d’esperienza. A questo punto dell’argomentazione, una riflessione critica su quali esiti stia offrendo la soluzione fenomenologica del problema cartesiano sembra essere legittima. Infatti, è proprio Husserl a chiamare in causa il dibattito contemporaneo intorno alla questione dell’idealismo per cercare di dare risposta a coloro interessati a collocare il pensiero husserliano entro le tradizionali categorie della metafisica moderna. La fenomenologia trascendentale così esposta rappresenta un nuovo esempio di idealismo trascendentale? Da un lato, lo spirito cartesiano che permea questo scritto sembra suggerirci una risposta positiva. In effetti, Husserl affronta senza indugi la tipica domanda sulla verità del mondo, abbandonandosi radicalmente al dubbio scettico e scoprendo dunque il fianco a critiche anti-metafisiche. D’altra parte, a chiunque muovesse obiezioni di tale impronta egli non potrebbe che replicare con severità. In fondo, il suo esplicito intento è sin dall’inizio quello di sgomberare il campo da ogni forma di dogmatismo, sia metafisico che positivista. A chi dunque ponesse un problema di “metafisicità” della fenomenologia trascendentale, la sola risposta possibile sarebbe quella di mostrare come in realtà l’intero programma fenomenologico (e lo stesso problema cartesiano, in fondo) voglia rappresentare la strada per superare certamente il realismo ingenuo, ma anche e non di meno superare ogni forma di metafisica spiritualista. Dall’altro lato, Husserl ammette la possibilità di riferirsi alla fenomenologia trascendentale come a una dottrina “idealista” a patto che si chiarisca efficacemente il termine. Non bisogna infatti dimenticare il netto scarto teorico che distingue la fenomenologia dalle tradizionali teorie della conoscenza, cioè quell’operazione di sospensione del giudizio che conduce ad un terreno d’indagine fenomenologicamente ridotto e privo di posizioni d’essere a priori. Solo per questa via, sostiene Husserl, è legittimo avanzare una dottrina del conoscere e inaugurare un idealismo che è “discoprimento sistematico della stessa intenzionalità costituente”. Non si tratta, infatti, di speculazioni arbitrarie e creative sull’origine del sapere, bensì un’indagine serrata delle strutture manifestative dell’esperienza nella loro vivida  concretezza. In questi termini, afferma il filosofo tedesco,  la fenomenologia è sicuramente da considerarsi la vera autentica espressione dell’idealismo trascendentale.

Quinta meditazione

Nella quinta meditazione Husserl affronta nuovamente il tema dell’Io trascendentale, esponendone qui una’ulteriore problematica che considera necessaria per seguire coerentemente l’impostazione metodologica di cui si è dotato. In che modo si rapporta la soggettività trascendentale con l’estraneità? Come si declinano fenomenologicamente le relazioni intersoggettive? Il filosofo tedesco sembra infatti impensierito dalla possibilità che le sue ricerche egologiche possano essere lette come solipsistiche. Al contrario egli ritiene che il suo sistema teoretico conduca naturalmente ad una dottrina dell’intersoggettività trascendentale, dottrina che costituirebbe quindi il passo conclusivo del percorso filosofico delle Meditazioni Cartesiane. Una volta chiarito cosa si debba intendere con soggettività trascendentale, infatti, Husserl introduce il concetto di “monade”. Egli riprende il linguaggio leibniziano per meglio qualificare il soggetto come una struttura singolare in permanente connessione con altre strutture singolari. Il concetto di monade infatti include implicitamente una dimensione di “proprietà” che è centrale nell’idea husserliana di soggettività. L’oggetto del mondo e l’ambiente in cui l’Io trascendentale è immerso si offre come elemento di interazione propria, privata, delimitando un campo di operatività intenzionale. Tuttavia all’interno di tale campo si presentano anche delle estraneità di cui viene riconosciuta sia la somiglianza che l’alterità. Nuove soggettività, infatti, prendono posizione, costituendo delle relazioni intersoggettive proprie della vita intenzionale. L’esperienza del’estraneo, dunque, non è affatto un elemento assente nella prospettiva della fenomenologia trascendentale, ma, al contrario, ne costituisce un passaggio chiave per una comprensione complessiva.

Le meditazioni di un’esistenza

Le Meditazioni Cartesiane rappresentano uno dei diversi testi di introduzione alla fenomenologia che Husserl ha prodotto. Le peculiarità stilistiche e metodologiche, tuttavia, rendono tale scritto una composizione decisamente originale all’interno della sua produzione. Pur inserendosi nell’ultimo decennio della sua riflessione, quando la sua esperienza filosofica era già giunta a maturità e notorietà, con esso si ha l’impressione di avere a che fare con un problema antico o, in altre parole, con il problema di sempre. Il dubbio scettico, la ricerca di radicalità, il desiderio di eliminare ogni pregiudizio, sono elementi che richiamano quell’atteggiamento che spesso caratterizza i primi interessi. Forse era proprio questa sensazione a dare al filosofo tedesco l’esigenza di produrre una riflessione così impostata: la volontà, dopo un pluri-decennale e costante esercizio di pensiero, di dare delle risposte definitive a quei problemi profondi che fin da giovane lo interrogavano. Nel percorso cartesiano che Husserl intraprende in queste meditazioni sta in fondo la metafora del cammino di un’esistenza filosofica che, dall’impaccio dei primi movimenti, procede verso la meta ignota della conoscenza, lasciando a noi il piacere di una lettura che pretende sia curiosità che spirito critico.

Riferimenti bibliografici

Altobrando Andrea, Husserl e il problema della monade, prefazione di Ugo Ugazio, Trauben, Torino, 2010.

Costa Vincenzo, Fenomenologia dell’intersoggettività, Carocci, Roma, 2010.

De Warren Nicolas, Husserl’s Cartesianism, Anew, Discipline Filosofiche 25 (2), 2015.

Ferrarello Susi, Husserl’s theory of intersubjectivity, Cultura 9(2), 163-174, 2012.

Gallagher Shaun, Intersubjectivity in perception, Continental philosophy review 41(2), 163-178, 2008.

Luft Sebastian, Subjectivity and Lifeworld in Transcendental Phenomenology, Northwestern University Press, 2011.

Moran Dermot, Husserl’s Transcendental Philosophy and the Critique of Naturalism, Continental Philosophy Review 41(4), 401-425, 2008.

Reynaert Peter, Intersubjectivity and naturalism – Husserl’s fifth Cartesian meditation revisited, Husserl Studies 17(3), 207-216, 2001.

Zahavi Dan, Beyond empathy: Phenomenological approaches to intersubjectivity, Journal of Consciousness Studies 8(5-7), 151-167, 2001.

Zahavi Dan, Husserl and Transcendental Intersubjectivity: A Response to the Linguistic-Pragmatic critique, Series in continental thought, Ohio University Press, 2001.


[i] I termini “noesi” e “noema” vengono introdotti da Husserl nel 1913, con la pubblicazione di Idee per una fenomenologia pura e per una filosofia fenomenologica I. Con “noesi” egli si riferisce alle diverse esibizioni intenzionali in cui un oggetto si offre nell’esperienza; con “noema”, invece, intende il riferimento oggettuale singolo che viene offerto nella pluralità di atti noetici.

L’ubica Ucnik, Anita Williams (Eds.): Phenomenology and the Problem of Meaning in Human Life and History, Bautz Verlag, 2017

Phenomenology and the Problem of Meaning in Human Life and History Book Cover Phenomenology and the Problem of Meaning in Human Life and History
libri nigri Band 60
L'ubica Ucnik, Anita Williams (Eds.)
Bautz Verlag`
2017
Paperback €98.00
341

Nicolas de Warren: Husserl e la promessa del tempo: La soggettività nella fenomenologia trascendentale, Edizioni ETS, 2018

Husserl e la promessa del tempo: La soggettività nella fenomenologia trascendentale Book Cover Husserl e la promessa del tempo: La soggettività nella fenomenologia trascendentale
Nicolas de Warren. Traduzione di Vincini Stefano
Edizioni ETS
2018
Paperback € 22,10
274

Don Ihde: Husserl’s Missing Technologies

Husserl's Missing Technologies Book Cover Husserl's Missing Technologies
Perspectives in Continental Philosophy
Don Ihde
Fordham University Press
2016
Paperback $24.00
192

Reviewed by: Aleksandra K. Traykova (Durham University)

Don Ihde has produced a total of six books in the past decade, but although the last one (Acoustic Technics: Postphenomenology and the Philosophy of Technology) appeared only two years ago, his readers were becoming impatient. Acoustic Technics was brilliant, however, its narrow focus on embodied sound left us longing for more of the American philosopher’s insights into science and technology more broadly construed. After finally getting my hands on a copy of Ihde’s latest book, I can confidently say that it was well worth the wait. Husserl’s Missing Technologies is fascinating! Winner of the Golden Eurydice Award for outstanding contributions to the field of biophilosophy, Ihde draws on more than four decades of research expertise in the contested areas of phenomenology and the philosophy of science. In accordance with his usual style, in this work Ihde addresses an astonishing plethora of issues, historical examples and philosophical ideas. The following review will discuss some of these elements.

Тhe book is comprised of seven chapters, each more layered and enthralling than the previous one. Following a lengthy introduction, which problematizes the technological gap in Husserl’s writings and thus justifies Husserl’s Missing Technologies as a project, Ihde swiftly moves straight into a discussion of technology use, scientific objects, the historical development of technoscience, and the timeline of science interpretations in philosophy. This abundance of topics might lead a less experienced writer to create a blurry, perhaps somewhat incoherent framework, but Ihde skillfully escapes this trap, instead setting the ground for a very structured and nuanced piece of writing. As a result, each chapter is sufficiently clear-cut and ambitious in its own right that it could easily be turned into a stand-alone project. Yet in spite of that, the transitions between separate chapters are executed brilliantly and without so much as a hint of discontinuity. For instance, in the first half of the book Ihde’s analysis and historical overview are left to unravel quietly while also clearly foreshadowing the claims about the role of postphenomenological, multi-instrumental technoscience that are made towards the end of the book; by the time the reader reaches the final chapters, the connections have already started to become increasingly obvious, and a complex but coherent argumentative structure gradually begins to emerge.

The title of the book sets the tone for Chapter 1 ‘Where are Husserl’s technologies?’. It opens with a statement that is fairly uncontroversial amongst Husserl scholars: namely, that Husserl’s references to technologies are sparse and usually mentioned only ‘in passing, without serious or in-depth philosophical analysis’ (13). Though this statement applies equally to ordinary-use technologies and to instruments or special technologies used in science, Chapter 1 focuses on the latter. After a short historical interlude which offers examples of the tendency for technology usage-spans to become increasingly shorter, Ihde introduces his readers to the style of science-technology analysis called postphenomenology and identifies its American pragmatist influences (e.g. John Dewey), adding that philosophies should also have usage-spans akin to those of technologies.

The book is an enjoyable read for anyone whose professional interests revolve around phenomenology and these early sections make for an excellent topic of discussion amongst introductory philosophy classes of a more general kind. Ihde questions an uncritical assumption we hold (which we would never make about scientists of the past) that all philosophers in history are our intellectual contemporaries. Science clearly has a history of ‘disappearing scientific objects’: ‘Democritus’s hard, indivisible atoms, Aristotle’s crystalline spheres, phlogiston, aether, the four humours, and most recently event horizons—all are gone except as interesting but quaint historical objects’ (17). It is not that these features of obsolescence or abandonment cannot be observed in philosophy, rather that the most notable examples have tended to appear in response to developments in technoscience; as suggested by the brief science-technology studies (STS) and the science interpretation timeline offered by Ihde in the next section.

Ihde notes that it took an astonishingly long time for anything properly resembling a ‘philosophy of technology’ to come into existence. The mid-twentieth century brought about two different sets of science interpretations ; a ‘conceptual’ and a ‘practical’ one to which scientists (or philosophers of science with notable antipositivist inclinations) and social scientists, respectively, were contributing. It took until the 1980’s for a distinct philosophy of technology to disentangle itself with authors such as Albert Borgmann, Langdon Winner, Andrew Feenberg, and Hubert Dreyfus leading the way. By this time positivism had met its demise, and the ‘acultural, ahistorical, unified, and triumphal’ understanding of science had become replaced by an outlook far more sensitive to the fallibility of science and its social and historical dimensions (22).

Ihde dives into a fascinating exploration of paradigm shifts for a reason. He does a wonderful job of accounting for the way in which ‘the rise of multiple reconsiderations of science, coupled to an increased interest in technologies […] shift the understanding of both science and technology toward more historical, cultural, and material dimensions’ (21). However, he does so in order to identify the reason for the sudden theoretical interest in instruments and technologies expressed in major works like Robert Ackermann’s Data, Instruments, and Theory (1985) or Ian Hacking’s Representing and Intervening (1983). It is only after Ihde has completed this task that he moves on to the next section which invites readers to re-visit Husserl ‘retrospectively’ and approach his writings (and the predominant science interpretations amongst his contemporaries) from a point of view located at the very end of the timeline he presented earlier (17-22)

The analysis sets out by making three important observations about Husserl’s philosophy of science: Firstly, that it remains largely on the mathematizing side in spite of occasional preoccupations regarding the separation of science and lifeworld. Secondly, that Husserl worried that rationality might be slipping away from science. Thirdly, that the praxis-lifeworld relations Husserl theorizes about in selected bits of The Origin of Geometry are apparently set up in a way which allows for sciences to be born from concrete practices – e.g. geometry arose out of the Ancient Egyptian practice of remeasuring and setting up field boundaries anew after the annual floods. The analysis then gains a comparative aspect as Ihde begins to reflect on the difference between Heidegger’s hammer, Merleau-Ponty’s extended embodiment of canes, and Husserl’s microscope-things and telescope-things. Ihde identifies a kind of ‘vestigial Cartesianism’ (31) in Husserl’s attitude toward objects, since, according to Husserl tools and technologies need to be seen and conceptually recognized as objects in their ‘objectness’ (i.e. as ‘things’) before they can be meaningfully deployed in praxis (25). Values and potential uses are seen by Husserl as things that are added on, rather than intrinsically present.

This discussion seamlessly transitions into an inspection of the relativity or correlation with the nearby-far-off-world which is enabled by instruments, and the ways that correlation fits within the wider unity of experiences. For example, when observing the moon through a telescope Ihde notes that before the ‘first revolution in sciences with technologies […] the experience through the telescope is not primarily of the telescope’ (31; his emphasis). He then explains how in cases of mediated perception the instruments which mediate the perception tend to undergo a withdrawal and become experientially transparent; something which Husserl does not describe in his writings.

However, the technologies of postmodern science no longer deliver experiences isomorphic or analogue to those of ordinary human bodily perception; they have ventured beyond optical imaging and into, e.g. instruments mapping the electromagnetic spectrum. Contemporary technologies can therefore be said to bring into being Husserl’s ‘open infinity of universal world truths’ by revealing the existence of neutron stars, black holes, gas clouds, and multiple galaxies of many and varied shapes (32-34). Ihde is right in claiming that Husserlian phenomenology was not equipped to deal with the worlds beyond the limits set by analogue-isomorphic technologies. One of the big questions of Chapter 1, then, is whether philosophies ought to be prepared for the kinds of theoretical and instrumental shifts characteristic of the sciences if they want to be successful in dealing with a new world? For Ihde the answer is a solid ‘yes’.

Chapter 2, ‘Husserl’s Galileo Needed a Telescope!’, discusses Husserl’s philosophy of science ‘in the light of contemporary analyses of science in practice’ (35). It starts out with the caveat that, for Husserl, the paradigmatic examples of science were: firstly, the ahistorical kinds of disciplines which lend themselves to mathematization, formalized expressions, and idealization and secondly, the kinds of disciplines which involve minimal amounts of embodiment practices and, with the exception of physics, minimal amounts of instrument use. These are, of course, the sciences that Husserl himself was most familiar with in terms of praxis (geometry, physics and astronomy) but they also fit within the broader process of mathematization initiated by other early twentieth century philosophers of science like Ernst Mach, Jules Poincaré and Pierre Duhem.

The next section of Chapter 2 describes the movement from mathematization (abstract and formalistic) to logical positivism or empiricism (with a pronounced focus on perception and observation). It then outlines a further move to anti-positivism (a lot more sensitive to historical context and well aware of the discontinuity present in science) which sets the ground for the next section where Ihde situates Husserl within this rich and slightly confusing intellectual landscape. Ihde notes that, for Husserl ‘science is not ahistorical, noncontextual, but rather is thoroughly historical, contextual, and cultural’, even though in science we can observe an ‘upward, slippery incline of approximations into an ideal world, which distances the investigator from the bodily-materiality of the lifeworld’ (44). The connection to the lifeworld is supposedly maintained, as long as an awareness of the whole process and its origins persists.

 But what did Husserl get wrong? The next three sections reveal that Husserl’s portrayal of Galileo’s philosophy of science may have been too reductionistic. While the astronomer was indeed confident that the language of mathematics played a crucial role in interpreting and understanding, he would have been unable to produce ground-breaking science with his bare senses unaided and unamplified by the telescope. As none of these contingencies received special mention from Husserl, Ihde notes that Husserl’s ‘preselected and reduced’ Galileo seems abstract and almost ahistorical, his ‘perceptions and practices with and through the telescope’ absent from Husserl’s histories:

…his Galileo is not the lens grinder, the user of telescopes, the fiddler with inclined planes, the dropper of weights from the Pisa Tower, but the observer who concentrates on, on one side, the already idealized “objects” of geometry and, on the other, the plenary ordinary objects that are before the eyes but indirectly analyzed into their geometrical components. (52)

The final three sections show that a different analysis would have been possible if Husserl had further developed his insights about the importance of written documents as fixed, material, embodied linguistic meaning-structures and instruments as offering a sort of transformational mediation between science and the lifeworld. However, Husserl is forgetful of Galileo’s telescopic praxis.

Just as promised in Chapters 1 and 2, Ihde does return to the reading-writing technologies in Chapter 3 (‘Embodiment and Reading-Writing Technologies’), in order to explore the issues Husserl sees there on a deeper level. The framework of the discussion is dictated by the transition from classical phenomenology to postphenomenology. Husserl’s own writing technologies – different types of pens, eyeglasses, magnifying glass, mimeographs and many others – are examined in truly remarkable detail (and featured on a timeline of writing, reading and optical technologies in Table 1, p. 64) and can be contrasted with his opinions on tools and scientific technologies.

A couple of reccurring motives appear to be that of executive consciousness governing a passive and somewhat ‘machine-like’ body, and that of typicality (of actions or practices, of standard measures, of shapes and trajectories). Ihde challenges these ideas in different ways, including by pointing at counterexamples from contemporary art (e.g. Matisse’s ‘virtuoso practice’ which clearly demonstrated atypical trajectory, especially in his late works). The final section of the chapter is dedicated to reflections on the predominant contemporary embodiment practices; whether or not they can be considered reductive, and whether and how they transform our experiences of space-time.

Chapter 4 – ‘Whole Earth Measurements Revisited’ – goes back to one of the notions first introduced towards the end of Chapter 1: that science needs instruments in order to discover new phenomena or to constitute new problems on which to focus. Structured around Ihde’s 1996 original paper of the same title, the chapter asks whether Husserl’s phenomenology, with its missing technologies, would be capable of detecting a ‘Greenhouse Effect’? It then argues in favour of a negative response; as whole earth measurements are far too complex to be accommodated by the perspectives of classical phenomenology, calling instead for two concepts Ihde refers to as firstly, the earth-as-planet perspective and secondly, an ‘understanding of measurement practice from a thorough technoscience, or instrumentally embodied science’ (80; emphasis not mine). Without those concepts and the aid of imaging technologies, we would be unable to visualize greenhouse gases, which are subperceptual. Ihde is clear that ‘instrumental mediation for Husserl yields a perceptual-correlate’, therefore in a Husserlian framework they would have to be inferred in Cartesian ways rather than perceived (81). Ihde identifies this problem as a Cartesian ‘conceptual duality between concretely perceived plena and abstractly idealized pure shapes’ (Ibid), noting that greenhouse gases are, of course, not pure shapes at all, but that if we want to account for them as material entities, we would need the assistance of postphenomenological, multi-instrumental, embodied technoscience (81-83).

Chapter 5, titled ‘Dewey and Husserl: Consciousness Revisited’, rereads Husserl and John Dewey on consciousness against the backdrop of the increased late twentieth century interest in consciousness, neurology and psychology (especially in a cognitivist context). In doing so Ihde defends phenomenology from accusations that it is subjectivist or an antiscience. From brain scans to animal studies observations of tool or technology use among corvids and primates, the realms of ‘calculating consciousness and technological innovation’ appear to be inextricably linked (92). So, Ihde turns to Dewey’s pragmatism and Husserl’s phenomenology to see exactly how the role played by consciousness differs in each of these experientially based philosophies (hint: they differ in the explanatory models they apply to epistemologies of experience, with Husserl’s essentially representing an adaptation from that of Descartes, and Dewey’s having clear Darwinian influences).

We get to take a deeper look at pragmatism and how it connects to phenomenology in Chapter 6, ‘Adding Pragmatism to Phenomenology’. Here Ihde continues addressing further critiques of phenomenology, e.g. that it relies on introspective methods and that it remains static. According to Ihde, the pragmatist    rejection of essentialism/foundationalism,  representationist/correspondence  notions of truth and transcendental/empirical distinctions is a philosophical style which postphenomenology can reclaim, i.e. replicate, ‘with and through phenomenology’ (109). But is phenomenology capable of returning the favour and enriching pragmatism in a similar manner? Ihde points at several phenomenological techniques (or tools) that could do just that: variational theory, multistability, embodiment, and critical hermeneutics. He then goes on to show how a pragmatic phenomenology or a postphenomenology can be expected to deal with technologies – especially newer and more radical imaging technologies such as the ones that postmodern radio and radar astronomy relies on – in ways that traditional forms of representation cannot.

Finally, in Chapter 7 (appropriately titled ‘From Phenomenology to Postphenomenology’) Ihde briefly outlines the evolution of phenomenology as a term referring to a style of philosophy, as well as the history of the term’s use in his own work, in order to identify the exact moment when postphenomenology began to mature and establish its own trajectory. The book ends by recapping the same ideas that made for such a spectacular and thought-provoking introduction: that philosophy, just like science, ought to keep transforming itself over time, and that as our lifeworld changes, so must our reflections on it.

Dan Zahavi (Ed.): The Oxford Handbook of the History of Phenomenology, Oxford University Press, 2018

The Oxford Handbook of the History of Phenomenology Book Cover The Oxford Handbook of the History of Phenomenology
Dan Zahavi (Ed.)
Oxford University Press
2018
Hardback £110.00
784

Eric S. Nelson: Chinese and Buddhist Philosophy in Early Twentieth-Century German Thought

Chinese and Buddhist Philosophy in Early Twentieth-Century German Thought Book Cover Chinese and Buddhist Philosophy in Early Twentieth-Century German Thought
Eric S. Nelson
Bloomsbury Academic
2017
Hardback £76.50
288

Reviewed by: Erik Hoogcarspel (Independent Scholar)

For those who are interested in the exchange between early phenomenology and China a new interesting study has appeared. The book is divided into nine chapters, some of which are based on articles that have been published before, most of them in the Journal of Chinese Philosophy. The first chapter describes the reception of Confucianism in Germany. It relates how different writers, such as Martin Buber, Georg Misch, Helmuth Plessner, and Karl Jaspers debated the merits of Confucianism.

The second chapter deals with different views on the meaning of life in China and Europe, as expressed in the exchange between the Chinese writer Zhang Junmai and the German vitalists Rudolf Eucken and Hans Driesch. In China, Zhang’s defence of German idealism strongly influenced Chinese philosophy in the 20th century. The third chapter is a comparison of Confucian ethics with the philosophies of Nietzsche and Max Scheler. It focuses on the concept of resentment, in the Western view often considered as caused by a lack of equality, but in Confucianism seen as a flaw in the inner cultivation of harmony.

Next follow three chapters that investigate the different aspects of Euro-centrism in the phenomenology of Husserl and Heidegger. One of those aspects is the naturalistic influence of Taoist thought on the critical attitude towards technology of both Buber and Heidegger. Another aspect is the question of whether philosophy is a single historical event or a general human activity which unfolds itself in different situations and from different causes. Finally, before a concluding chapter investigates the possibilities of an intercultural philosophy, two penultimate chapters explore a confrontation of Martin Heidegger with Zen Buddhism and the relation between emptiness and language. The book is well written and further study is facilitated by many footnotes and an extensive bibliography. There is a general index for quick reference that includes subjects as well as names of Chinese and European writers.

The chapters consist of a series of philosophically-orientated historical case studies, focusing on the confrontation between Chinese and German philosophy. Against the often-quoted opinion of Husserl and Heidegger that philosophy can only be European, the author proposes a more universal concept of philosophy, assuming that philosophy is a universally human potency. The rejection of non-Western philosophy is therefore associated with the denial of humanity to non-Western cultures. For Nelson the intercultural approach also implies a rejection of essentialism, which leads to the conclusion that a multicultural or comparative approach is out of the question. There are no essences or identities of philosophy that can be compared, no inherent differences that can be listed and opposed to each other. The key word Nelson uses is ‘inter-textualism’, the dynamic exchange between texts through the ages by which they cooperate and refer to each other.

Arguably classical Greek and Roman philosophy, in which philosophy is an enquiry about the good life, is closer to non-Western philosophical discussion than our modern Western conception. Nelson complains: “Modern Western philosophy—which is simultaneously universal in its pretensions about its scope and provincial in its actual practises—has been largely indifferent, when not allergically antagonistic, to non-Western forms of thinking” (13).

The first chapter concerns the bad press of Confucianism. This prejudice is, according to Nelson, a heritage of colonial thinking. The prejudices towards Confucianism and the term itself initiated from the reports of Jesuit missionaries who stayed for some time at the court of the Chinese Emperor during the late Ming and early Ching dynasties (roughly the seventeenth century). Since then Confucianism has met with little appreciation in the West, but according to its admirers it can offer interesting ethical political insights that can be useful in Western political philosophy. Nelson mentions some philosophers who were more sympathetic. Pierre Bayle and Nicolas Malebranche identified Confucianism with the pantheism of Spinoza. Christian Wolff even had to leave the University of Jena in 1726 because of the protests of Christian theologians after he equated Jesus and Confucius in his lecture on the practical philosophy of the Chinese.

In the sayings of Confucius, the Analects (Lunyu ), he often appeals to the will of tian 天 (mostly translated as ‘heaven’; sometimes as ‘God’). Because of this translation many philosophers interpreted Confucianism as a kind of Deist or atheist ethics, and inadequate to the rational individualism of the West. Nelson argues that the critics overlooked the openness of Confucianism to critical reflection and reformation of practises and institutions along with the acceptance of the authority of the existing ethical order. Hegel was the most outspoken critic, because he thought Oriental peoples were not capable of understanding the concept of true freedom. Weber admitted that the Chinese and Islamic culture used to be more advanced than the Western, but found them incomplete, because they both lacked transcendence and final redemption. Moreover, Chinese philosophy failed in the complete rationalisation of the life-world and never rid itself of traces of magical thought. Nietzsche associated Confucian and Buddhist ethics with an altruistic ethics similar to Christendom, which he rejected. On the other hand, others were enchanted by the Chinese pure aesthetics that was supposed to be in harmony with nature. Confucius was sometimes compared to Socrates, for instance by Karl Jaspers, but Schelling makes him an anti-Socrates. In the intercultural hermeneutics of Georg Misch (in his book The Dawn of Philosophy), however, Nelson finds some well-founded argumentation for a positive reception of Confucius and of non-Western philosophy in general. Martin Buber and Helmuth Plessner elevated Confucianism beyond the scope of philosophy, because they found it too subtle and noble.

The second chapter describes the work of Zhang Junmai (1886-1969), who introduced the principle of self-reflection of life (shengming 生命) into modern Confucian philosophy. His early work reflects the crisis of meaning that befell the Chinese during the late 19th and early 20th century when several political changes and revolutions took place and the Chinese army appeared to be no match for the Western forces. After a first attempt to assimilate the philosophy of the Western invaders, Zhang looked for concepts similar to Western ideas in the Confucian tradition. If necessary, Confucian ideas could be reformulated or adapted to match the demands of the new era. This was a hazardous strategy, because it could be seen as giving in to the foreign domination and cutting ties with the very Chinese tradition that was to be saved. Zhang wrote a book together with Rudolf Eucken, called The Problem of Life in China and Europe (Das Lebensproblem in China und Europa, 1922), which consists of an abridged history of Western philosophy, an overview of the history of Chinese ethics and a diagnostic reflection on the contemporary ethical situation in China and Europe. Nelson praises it as a nice example of a cross-cultural dialogue, in which Eucken was convinced of the need of a renewal of spiritual life in the West as an answer to the crisis of modernity that had unleashed so much cruelty in the first World War. What is at stake is reason, its nature, its relation to life, and the question of whether it is universal or restricted to the mainstream of Western philosophy.

Nelson relates how Zhang thinks that Western philosophy, with exception of German idealism and the philosophy of Eucken, has failed to integrate life and reason. Eucken maintains that life has originated from metaphysical sources. In this aspect his philosophy contains a spiritual ontology. According to Nelson, Zhang wants to counterbalance the Western will to power by the Chinese emphasis on personal ethical development. In China this message resonated with the classical philosophies of Mengzi (372-289 BCE) and Wang Yangming (1472-1529), but it did not quite fit in with the discourse in China at the time. Zhang was very much opposed to racist and nationalist ideologies, and he rejected the theory that the Han people were a group of one blood and identity. Hans Driesch, who stayed with Zhang in China for nine months, also rejected any difference of essence, nature, or substance between Eastern and Western people, or between Germans and Jews for that matter. In those days the fear of the ‘yellow peril’ (sinophobia) spread around, amongst others propagated by Kaiser Wilhelm, who had a nightmare in 1895 in which the Buddha riding a dragon was conquering Europe. In 1950 this idea was even endorsed by the French philosopher Emmanuel Levinas. Zhang was later forced to go in exile to the U.S.A., and his successor Mou Zongsan became one of the most important philosophers in China. On both sides of the globe, Nelson writes, xenophobia had permeated the pores of academics as well as politicians. Nevertheless, there was an opposite current of fascination with the East, both in art and philosophy. However, in the eyes of many this current became affiliated with the romantic and magical thought of theosophy and the New Age. In the meantime China had adopted Marx and Western capitalism.

The third chapter deals with the view on China of Max Scheler and Friedrich Nietzsche, who claimed that China suffered from a culture of ressentiment. According to Nelson, Scheler maintained contra Nietzsche that ressentiment (resentment being a feeling of unhappiness due to exposure to unfairness and ressentiment a complex attitude of hating life because of spite towards successful people, blaming them for one’s own misfortune) is not linked to Christendom, but to its negation and that of religion in general. It defies the basic moral character of humanity, which can be found in many places in human history, like the teachings of the Stoics and Epicureans as well as those of Taoism and Buddhism. For Nietzsche, however, ressentiment is the very source of all moralities, especially the Christian one, because they all hold that the strong are repressed for the benefit of the week. The opposite of ressentiment is self-affirmation. In Nietzsche’s book Twilight of Idols, Confucius is a preacher of ressentiment, just like Jesus and Plato, in comparison to Nero and Napoleon (84). Nietzsche claims that China is a warning, because there ressentiment merely seems to have been overcome, whereas in fact it still silently rules the hearts of the people. In Nietzsche’s view, the altruism preached by the Buddha and Confucius made the Chinese passive and fearful. This had to be avoided in Europe in order to liberate the strong and noble persons from the domination by the weak masses. Nelson does not share Nietzsche’s verdict; he is convinced that in the Analects many examples are to be found where a selfish attitude is cut short by the cultivation of sincere benevolence and altruism. In his view, earlier Confucian ethics integrates a realistic moral psychology of negative emotions such as resentment with a model of self-cultivation that is aiming at an attitude of benevolence towards others. Early Confucian ethics in general minimizes the expectation of others and maximizes the need for self-discipline, obviously because one is powerless over the other’s expectations and high expectations could lead to resentment. Moreover, the noble person earns respect by helping others. According to Nelson, this is not a matter of self-sacrifice as Scheler and Nietzsche would have it, but a matter of self-cultivation.

Nelson remarks in the fourth chapter that the reception of Chinese philosophy is flawed by inadequate translations, prejudice, and lack of familiarity with the cultural context and differences in circumstances. Intercultural philosophy is captured in a dilemma between rigorous and narrow expertise, and free, creative reading between the lines. Romantic writers contrasted Taoist spontaneity and naturalness with the alienation of the technological modernity. The image of mystic love of nature was combined with wild Orientalistic imagination. Nelson finds in Schelling the first to write an intelligent commentary on the Daodejing. Schelling describes the dao as pure potency, the link between finite and actual being. Knowledge of the dao requires practical wisdom. A milestone in the understanding of Taoism in Germany was Martin Buber’s German translation of the Zhuangzi from the English translations of James Legge and Herbert Allen Giles, which appeared in 1910. Heidegger reportedly read it several times (121). Buber’s preference for this book is quite understandable in light of his most famous book I and Thou that appeared in 1923. Zhuangzi looks in Buber’s eyes a lot like the hasidim of the Jewish tradition, of which he knew the stories all too well. Moreover, the Zhuangzi teaches through humour, contrary to the Daodejing. Ten years later, however, Buber preferred the Daodejing because of its political dimension.

Buber has, according to Nelson, a positive view on Taoism, in which to be one with the dao is to be one with the creativity of life, through non-doing (wu wei). Buber finds a drive towards the actualization of the divine in ordinary life by sensitive persons in both Taoism and Hasidic Judaism. Nelson speculates that Buber’s language of surrender, letting go and inaction anticipated and perhaps influenced Heidegger. Buber once even uses the word Gelassenheit (‘releasement’), which is quite similar to the Chinese concept of non-action (wu wei), but Heidegger claims to have found it in the work of Meister Eckhart. Interestingly enough, however, Buber expressed his concern about the threat of modern science and technology before Heidegger did, emphasizing the need for a European alternative for Taoism. He calls the Taoist writings a source of inspiration (anticipating Peter Sloterdijk’s book Eurotaoism). So in this way Buber thinks an encounter between Chinese wisdom and European rationality to be possible and even necessary. Confucianism is in Buber’s opinion too demanding for the egoist Westerners and tied up with traditional Chinese values, while Taoism looks more promising. Although there is nothing of the Zhuangzi in his writings, Heidegger seems to have taken a great interest in the book. He was inspired by it for his conception of being-with (Mitsein), natural artistry without relying on a technique, and finally the necessity of the unnecessary or the use of the useless. At the end of the second World War the Chinese scholar Paul Shih-yi Hsiao engaged with Heidegger in conversations concerning the Daodejing and they translated sections of the text together into German. Heidegger interpreted the text rather idiosyncratically; understanding other cultures was not his forte. He mentions in the collection On the Way to Language the Chinese word for way, dào, and equals it to the Greek word logos. He calls it “the secret of all secrets of thoughtful saying.” As for Buber, it serves Heidegger as a counterbalance to the threat of technology that is hanging over Western philosophy. Technology causes humans to treat each other as objects, putting all personal relations into oblivion. So for both Heidegger and Buber, Zhuangzi provided a model for non-religious aesthetic freedom. Asian philosophy does not play any part in Heidegger’s history of being; the latter is increasingly assimilated in the West through the planetary advance of the technological world-image and its destructive reduction of beings to instrumental calculation, which originates in the Greek experience of nature as physis. So what makes Asian philosophy relevant to Heidegger? According to Nelson, Heidegger tries to dismantle the history of being and reveal the origins of philosophy in order to reawaken the freshness of its origin. Heidegger insists, however, that this new beginning must come from Greek philosophy. Heidegger is explicitly opposed to the possibility of non-Western philosophy, despite his plagiarism of Taoist texts. Nelson mentions the most famous quote in that regard, which comes from a talk Heidegger gave for the Bayerischen Rundfunk (German radio) in 1952 called What is Called Thinking? (Was heisst Denken?) Asian people are not without thought, but they cannot think, because they do not understand the logos. Nelson thinks Heidegger’s decision to part with Taoist texts must have been taken in 1934, when his sympathies for Hitler increased, such that Heidegger seems never to have reconsidered this decision. Even in 1960 he called the Asian culture ‘dark’ and the ancient Greek one ‘light’. In the interview in Der Spiegel of 1966 he warns against the barbarian influence of Zen Buddhism. He is not alone in this. Even deconstructive philosophers as Derrida and Rorty stated that a non-Western philosophy is not possible. Heidegger rejected Dilthey’s thesis of the multiple origins of philosophy in his Introduction into Philosophy. His argument is that philosophy must be a unity, because there is only one real question, the question of being. This leaves very little room for discussion since Heidegger himself is the only one in the history of philosophy who has asked this question. Nelson does not agree, of course. He thinks that the point of departure for reflection necessarily is the hermeneutical situation of life itself. Whereas the ontological prejudice inhibits every possibility for a dialogue.

Nelson explains that for Misch, as well as for Dilthey, every interpretation oscillates between the alien and the familiar, so in that case no radical difference exists between the hermeneutics of texts from one’s own culture and texts from other cultures. Philosophy does not begin at a certain place at a certain time; it happens every time a human being is confronted with the abyss of meaninglessness. It is an internal break with immediacy and an occasion for self-reflection. Nelson notes that Misch points to several stories in the Zhuangzi that serve as examples. The Analects of Confucius show in Misch’s view that not all philosophy started with the question of being. In China it started with the question of ethics. This fact suffices in Misch’s eyes to falsify Heidegger’s thesis (later he also mentions an Indian origin of philosophy). Moreover, Misch contends that the beginning of philosophy in Greece was not the question of being but the concrete self-reflexive moment of life concerning itself.

Nelson notices that Taoism takes special place in the philosophy of Misch. All philosophies are expressions of the self-reflection of life, but Zhuangzi has the final hermeneutical word. Misch thinks Zhuangzi provocatively challenges, expands and reverses life’s perspectives and horizons. His stories and paradoxes liberate one from dogmatic inhibitions and put situations into perspective through articulating life from within life itself. In the oracle book the Yijing Misch finds a logic that is different from that of Western philosophy. The book consists of comments on ideograms. The comments are generated by a detached observation of worldly situations, combined with self-reflection. It has a holistic structure, the parts are reflected in the whole, and vice versa. Each input ideogram or symbol describes a situation together with preferred strategies. Nelson, in dialogue with Heidegger, thinks this is another beginning of philosophy, one which is even more in tune with the concrete human being that lives his life, seeks to adapt to circumstances, and make sense of his existence. To make a long story short, Nelson praises Heidegger for taking an interest in Chinese philosophy, but blames him for not having understood one shred. Heidegger’s monologue about being is totally unsuitable for any kind of cross-cultural philosophy.

Classical phenomenology can be helpful for understanding Asian philosophy, Nelson admits. Returning to the things themselves opens a cross-cultural perspective, because those things are not restricted to just one culture. This has often been overlooked. Merleau-Ponty, however, remarked that: “[philosophy’s] centre is everywhere, its circumference nowhere” (164). Both Husserl and Heidegger made clear they were opposed to the idea of a non-Western philosophy, but in a few short texts Husserl wrote very positively about Buddhism (167). The first is called “Socrates – Buddha.” Here he comes to the conclusion that Indian philosophy does not go beyond the practical and ethical level; it never reaches an epistemological bracketing of the whole world as Descartes has achieved. Husserl argues that the Buddhist path pursues knowledge for the sake of emancipation, but the Socratic path leads to knowledge for its own sake. So it is only through the eyes of the Western philosopher, who is seeking knowledge as such, that Indian philosophy becomes real philosophy. According to Husserl Buddhist philosophy never transcends the natural attitude of daily life, because it is not capable of a complete reduction. Even Buddhist meditation does not transform the natural attitude.

The other short text is a review of a translation of the Majjhima Nikaya, the collection of middle-length discourses of the Buddha. Here the Buddhist teachings are said to be parallel to the highest achievements of Western civilization. Western philosophy can come to a breakthrough of its own predicament of degeneration by the confrontation with the Buddhist teachings. The adoption of Buddhist philosophy by the West or a possible fusion of Western and non-Western philosophy is still out of the question. So here too Husserl sticks to his paradigm of the historical uniqueness of Western philosophy. He justifies his position by pointing to the unique development of science in the West, which he sees as a result of a unique theoretical attitude. Husserl also published three articles in the Japanese journal Kaizō (167). In these he articulates a sense of an intellectual and spiritual crisis; he calls for a renewal by returning to the origins of philosophy. The Japanese are invited to join in, because Japan is becoming a new branch of European culture.

Nelson describes how other phenomenologists even went a step further (172). Stanislaw Schayer published a comparison between the phenomenological method of reduction and Buddhist meditation. He found the Buddhist method of reduction even more radical than the one Husserl practised. Dorion Cairns, who worked closely together with Husserl and his assistant Eugen Fink, also claims that the various phases of Buddhist self-discipline were essentially phases of phenomenological reduction; both consist of an analysis of the structure of subjective consciousness. In both cases the interdependence of consciousness and world is revealed. So while the phenomenological method appears to have strong affinities with Buddhist meditation, their framework and goals are radically divergent. Husserl aims at a fundamental philosophy that has to become a new foundation for science, which he sees as a logical result of a development that started with the ancient natural philosophers. Within this framework he could not recognize genuine philosophy in the Indian and Chinese cultures.

Nelson accepts that cultures have each their own histories, but he thinks that the encounter between different cultures can create new individualities, that histories may intertwine. The problem he finds with Husserl is the priority of a life-world which is not phenomenologically neutral, but tainted by historical and ideological bias. In Heidegger’s mature thinking technology and globalization are pathologies of the culmination of the history of Western metaphysics. The only solution is a new beginning, which means a return to the Greek origins of philosophy, because the West is appointed by history to be in the lead.

Nelson mentions an essay by Heidegger about the differences between French and German philosophy, called “Ways of Speaking.” Here Heidegger mentions the confrontation with the other that articulates by mutual understanding the differences and the identity of each participant. He called it a strife for the sake of understanding. An example of this would be the dialogue with Count Kuki about the translatability of the Japanese word ‘iki’ entitled “A Dialogue on Language: Between a Japanese and an Inquirer” (‘Aus einem Gespräch von der Sprache‘, in the collection ‘Unterwegs zur Sprache‘). Nelson makes clear that Heidegger is not very interested in the understanding being mutual. The latter maintains that ‘iki’ is untranslatable and reproaches Kuki for not being true to his own culture. In other words, Kuki doesn’t play the part Heidegger had mind for him. Japanese are (according to Heidegger) unfit to understand the concept of aesthetics because the Japanese language is incommensurable with the German one. (Quite a risky claim for someone who does not speak any Japanese, I would say!) So the reason for the dialogue seems to be rather enigmatic. Heidegger maintains that a genuine dialogue is anticipated, but obviously impossible as well. Heidegger opens a dialogue, but only to prove the impossibility of any mutual understanding!

Nelson describes very well how attempts of Martin Buber to interpret Eastern texts are a gust of fresh air into the heavy atmosphere of East-West dialogue. Buber was attracted by the laid-back attitude in these texts and he thought they could teach Westerners to go easy on consumerism. Heidegger knew Zen-Buddhism from the introductory works of Suzuki and other anthologies. According to Nelson, Buber moved away from the Eastern philosophies later in his life because he shifted from mysticism to ethics. In Buber’s work on Hasidism Nelson finds, however, many comments on Zen. He notes that Buber rejects full transcendence, because it is selfish to merge into a mystic state and leave your neighbours behind. Nevertheless Buber writes about the Buddha with sympathy, but he does not want to follow him all the way. According to Buber, the Jewish experience is fundamentally different, because it celebrates the divine while being exiled in the world. He remains, however, true to his principles and keeps the dialogue with other philosophies open, stressing their validity and good intentions.

Nelson also relates the criticism of Keiji Nishitani, member of the Japanese Kyōto school, a philosophical movement famous everywhere but in Japan itself. Nishitani wrote an essay called “the I-thou relation in Buddhism,” in which he describes the profoundly dialogical character of the Zen kōan. Nishitani criticises Buber for keeping the interpersonal dialogue on the level of just words and not touching the level where the communication between Zen master and pupil really takes place. He claims that Buddhism developed an ethics that transcends the self; Zen ethics is therefore an ethics of encounter where the care of the other is paramount. What Western commentators on Zen didn’t realise according to Nishitani, was that the irrational and seemingly unethical utterances of Zen masters were meant to break through the cultivation of personal idols, they are not academic philosophical statements.

Before he reaches the concluding chapter, Nelson presents a comparative analysis of emptiness. According to Nelson both Zen and Heidegger came close to primordial experience through a dismantling of conceptual thinking (228). In Heidegger’s work the deconstruction discloses an original experience of being; in Zen there is the disclosure of original mind and self-nature. Nelson thinks that there still remains a trace of reification in Heidegger’s concept of nothingness. Since Parmenides, he claims, nothing comes from nothing, so we need God or being in order for something to exist. Western philosophers understood Buddhist emptiness either as a self-contradictory concept or a nihilistic void. Heidegger is said to question these suppositions. He returns to Leibniz’s question “Why is there something rather than nothing?” The answer in the Western tradition, where nothingness is conceived as the absence of being, seems to need a third term, God, who transcends both and is the ground. Heidegger speaks of an uncanniness at the moment when existence is experienced as slipping away. Like death, it is an abyss that cannot be anticipated. According to Nelson, Heidegger is looking for a new language that is not re-presentational, but he tries to do this by asking questions about metaphysics. Zen practises a way of speaking without speaking, which is not referential but performative. Emptiness is not a thing, because it is empty of itself. Nelson sees an affinity with Heidegger’s groundlessness of the ground. In Zen language is self-deconstructing, it is performative, it indirectly enacts a reorientation of human dwelling through various strategies by the anecdotal and the shocking. Zen’s emptiness and Heidegger’s nothingness approach each other, according to Nelson, in emphasizing the original groundlessness and temporal impermanence of human existence.

One of the pitfalls of an intercultural hermeneutics is that no philosopher can cover all points of view exhaustively on their own. There is the risk of purifying the other so much that it becomes sterile. Nelson sees a beginning of cross-cultural hermeneutics in Dilthey’s philosophy of worldviews (which was criticised by Heidegger in his article the era of world views, “The Age of the World-View” (Die Zeit des Weldbildes, in the collection Holzwege)) and the comparative work of Georg Misch. Nelson hopes for an intercultural hermeneutics that keeps apart from nationalistic bias, gives ample room for the opponent to expose his or her points of view, is sensitive to complexity, and critically reflexive.

Nelson’s book is quite informative and covers most of the interchange that took place between Zen and Germany in the beginning of last century. Many more Buddhist schools existed in Japan and China of course, but those did not take much part in the exchange. Nelson does not mention what happened in this area in France or Great Britain, so the picture he offers is not quite complete. It is also not as neutral as he likes it to be. Confucianism has become the official philosophy of the ancient and new empire, but this was and is mainly for political reasons, not because it is philosophically more interesting than its competitors. It is diverse, its history is rich with reorientations and discussions, as is the history of Chinese Buddhism. The recent upsurge in praises of Confucianism might have a nationalistic bias, therefore Confucianism is often erroneously presented with an unequivocal message.

On a few occasions Nelson makes disputable claims. Confucius did not advocate equality, but a natural hierarchy.  This was one of the main topics of the so-called mo-ru discussions between his followers and those of Mozi. To call Li (禮) “appropriate practices, socially oriented individual self-cultivation, and learning and self-reflection” (17), seems a modernistic rationalisation, as it usually means ‘rites’. Mozi called it a waste of time and money, because it required the payment of lots of musicians and people walking around with funny hats. Another example is the obligation of a three-year mourning period following the death of a parent: this could mean ‘bankruptcy’. In Chinese texts many things are not as they appear to be and philological research remains very important. The Confucian texts are not the sayings of a single historical wise man; most of them are from different sources and from a later date. And the history of Zen is not quite like the monks themselves think it is. Nelson leaves these problems out of the discussion, but they are part of the exchange between East and West. The discussion between Zen and Heidegger is incomplete, because the latter wrote like he did not have a body, whereas Zen monks are sitting motionless for hours at a stretch, training their body and mind to be one. It is also a pity that Nelson did not follow up on his own suggestions and pay more attention to the carefully executed Husserlian reductions and genetic phenomenology. This could have been more fertile than a discussion about nothingness.

Nevertheless, this book offers lots of valuable information and entries for further research. It is well-written and has all the tools for easy reference and an impressive bibliography.

Marta Jorba, Dermot Moran (Eds.): Conscious Thinking and Cognitive Phenomenology, Routledge, 2018

Conscious Thinking and Cognitive Phenomenology, Routledge, 2018 Book Cover Conscious Thinking and Cognitive Phenomenology, Routledge, 2018
Marta Jorba, Dermot Moran (Eds.)
Routledge
2018
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This book was originally published as a special issue of Philosophical Explorations.

Dan Zahavi: Fenomenologia lui Husserl (Romanian Edition of Husserl’s Phenomenology), Ratio & Revelatio Publishing House, 2017

Dan Zahavi: Fenomenologia lui Husserl (Romanian Edition of Husserl’s Phenomenology) Book Cover Dan Zahavi: Fenomenologia lui Husserl (Romanian Edition of Husserl’s Phenomenology)
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Dan Zahavi. Translated by Iulian Apostolescu and Ioana Zamfir
Ratio & Revelatio Publishing House
2017
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