Lorenzo Girardi: Europe, Phenomenology, and Politics in Husserl and Patočka

Europe, Phenomenology, and Politics in Husserl and Patočka Book Cover Europe, Phenomenology, and Politics in Husserl and Patočka
Reframing the Boundaries: Thinking the Political
Lorenzo Girardi
Rowman & Littlefield Publishers
2024
Hardback
226

Reviewed by: Peter Shum (University of Warwick)

 

Introduction

Lorenzo Girardi’s wide ranging and highly informative book, Europe, Phenomenology, and Politics in Husserl and Patočka, explains the origins and nature of Europe’s contemporary “crisis”, and conducts its own enquiry into the significance of the catastrophes that befell Europe in the twentieth century. It investigates the limitations of rationality in the political sphere, and is sympathetic to the insights of agonistic political theory.

Girardi ends the introduction to his book on the same note on which he concludes the book itself, namely by warning us not to forget about the unprecedented catastrophes that befell Europe in the twentieth century. The admonition is apposite, since the book’s entire train of thought turns out to be, in a certain way, haunted by the hecatombs of the first and second world wars. It alludes not only to a peril associated with a fading of our collective memory, but also to a philosophical danger of failing to comprehend what it was that transpired in the first place, in the traumas that we now denote with terms like “The Great War” the “The Holocaust”. Indeed, I suspect that many readers will be prompted in the course of this book to wonder if the term “war” itself is due a metaphysical clarification.

Edmund Husserl predeceased those whose lives were cut short by the Holocaust, but by the time of his death in 1938 he was, to say the least, more cognizant than most of the nature of the crisis that seemed to be engulfing Europe. Husserl thought Europe was in crisis on the grounds that a naturalistic conception of the world cannot account for or support humanity’s existential needs. He saw rational discourse as a reliable path towards the reconciliation or convergence of opposing views, and wanted conflicting nations to embark on a political journey from their respective cultural life-worlds to a more universal life-world.

Girardi elaborates an important counterpoint to Husserl’s rationalist teleology, by introducing the thought of the Czech philosopher Jan Patočka. Girardi explores Patočka’s concerns about Husserl’s understanding of the root of Europe’s crisis, and about Husserl’s proposal to restore the ideal of reason in political philosophy. This turns out to be connected to potential philosophical problems that can arise when one tries to attribute a final or transcendent meaning to the world as a whole. This, in turn, is connected to phenomenological questions pertaining to how one attributes significance to experiences, and how one responds to situations of apparent meaninglessness. All of these considerations inform Patočka’s concept of problematicity, which is really the central theme of the three final chapters. Girardi goes on to consider the implications of Patočka’s notion of problematicity for the discussion about the future of politics in Europe, and how this discussion has been taken up by certain post-structuralist political thinkers. The interconnectedness of the topics of Patočka, problematicity, and politics will incline me to review the book’s final three chapters as a unit, in place of the chapter by chapter approach that I shall adopt for the rest of the book. Toward the end of this book review I shall offer three discussion points that I hope readers will find constructive.

The Idea of Europe and the Ideal of Reason

The main discussion of the book opens by drawing attention to the centrality of rationality in Europe’s sense of its own self-identity, and of its own relation to the rest of the world. The very notion of “Europe”, as something other than simply a geographical designation, advanced when “Europe” began to replace “Christendom” in diplomatic language to signify a collection of cooperating coordinate sovereign states with a shared heritage from Christendom. The distinguishing feature of this European civilisation was that it saw itself as based squarely and fundamentally on reason.

This European civilisation saw itself as superior to all others, and the capacity for reason was held to be constitutive of our humanity. Importantly, this involved seeing reason not only as a mode of enquiry but as a way of resolving disputes. According to the rationalist perspective, all fields of human life, including morality, and the organisation of society, were to be grounded in reason. Grounding everything in reason had the consequence that the world became “disenchanted”, since in principle everything could be mastered by means of calculation.

However, by the end of the nineteenth century, there were concerns that rationalism was undermining community and social cohesion. Weber observed that for all of rationalism’s successes, it didn’t seem to have much success in answering questions about the ultimate meaning of human existence. In a rationalist discourse concerning how to organise society, there isn’t typically much emphasis on accommodating a plurality of views. Sociologists like Ferdinand Tönnies regarded rationalist society as a complete inversion of community. Later in the twentieth century, the idea was put forward, by the Frankfurt School of critical theory amongst others, that rationalism contributed to, facilitated, or made possible the atrocities of the first and second world wars. Girardi points out that the extent of rationalism’s responsibility for these horrors remains a matter of dispute.

A Philosophical Sketch of the Contemporary Situation

Chapter 2 begins to explore some of the different currents in the ongoing contemporary debate concerning the philosophical direction that European political thought ought to be taking, and in particular how entangled with rationalism this direction ought to be. One pole of the contemporary debate argues that Europe needs to revert and reconnect to its Christian heritage. This view gained ground after the fall of the Soviet Bloc, when there was a resurgence of Christianity in many Eastern European countries. This became an important part of their national identity. At a European level, this reinforces the centrality of Christianity to contemporary European identity. Today, sceptics of the EU project are often proposing a culturally Christian Europe. They regard reviving Europe’s Christian heritage as a way of counteracting the disenchantment of the world that rationalism seemed to usher in, and re-enchant the world with some transcendent spiritual values. This position is not so much about completely rejecting rationality as keeping it in check and making space for a re-enchantment of the world. Girardi points out that Novalis (1772-1801) was a very early proponent of a version of this view, and that, more recently, Gianni Vattimo (2002) argues that European identity is inextricably enmeshed with Christianity.

A different pole of the contemporary debate argues that the way forward for Europe is to double down on rationalism. Proponents of this view argue that rationalism could have enabled us to rise above our small-minded human disputes over territory, natural resources, and cultural differences, and that if only Europe had been more rational, it would have avoided both world wars completely. In the rationalist’s view, the world wars were not a case of rationalism taking Europe in the wrong direction, but instead a bursting forth of an incomprehensible and lethal irrationalism.

The cogency of the pro-rationalism pole of the debate is difficult to deny, but Girardi observes that the main drawback is that it now seems to be leading us toward a bureaucratic European Union devoid of human existential meaning. The idea that rationalism was supposed to enable us to rise above our cultural differences seems to have been conflated with the view that it is improper to rate one culture more highly than another. This is to say that cultural relativism has acquired a strong foothold in political circles. This view informs the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. We now run into the problem where there is a tension between respecting what we deem to be universal human rights and respecting a foreign culture.

A second drawback stems from the fact that, understandably, those backing the EU project like to use the Holocaust for symbolic purposes. Yet Eastern European countries, and the UK, for instance, tend to be less willing than Germany to accept culpability for the Holocaust. For such nations, Holocaust culpability is not part of their national identity. In the end, observers of the contemporary debate about the future of Europe need to be cognizant of the fact that those who wish Europe to revert to its Christian heritage are liable to hold up the Holocaust as an admonishment against the dangers of unchecked rationalism, whilst their opponents hold up the Holocaust as an admonishment against the dangers of neglecting rationalism.

Rational Politics, the Liberal Consensus, and the Agonistic Critique

Girardi observes that it seems to be a characteristic of a purely rational or “universalist” rationalist discourse concerning how to organise society that there isn’t typically much emphasis on accommodating a plurality of views. After all, in a strictly rational society (if such a society were ever to exist) the function of reason would be to optimally redesign and reorganise society. This gives rise to concerns that this way of going about things is conducive toward totalitarianism.

Pluralist rationalism (as opposed to universalist rationalism) aims to address this concern by introducing a process of reconciliation between diverse attitudes and opinions. The two-fold aim of a pluralist rationalist society is mutual safety and individual freedom. Under pluralist rationalism, the state is neutral with respect to worldview. Liberal democracy has much in common with pluralist rationalism, but is not completely neutral with respect to worldview. Sometimes democratic procedure restricts individual rights. This is the tension between democracy and liberalism. This leaves room for a wide variety of versions of liberal democracy, and Rawls and Habermas each develop their own.

One of the features of a liberal democracy is the requirement that there should be a general consensus across all citizens about democratic procedure. This is called the liberal consensus. In searching for the liberal consensus, Rawls and Habermas both want to strike the right balance between universalism and pluralism. Habermas doesn’t want secularism to dominate public debate, and this means affording traditional worldviews the opportunity to participate in public political debate. Consonantly, people should have the right, in Habermas’s view, to contribute to public debate in their own religious language. This means Habermas could be said to be a post-secularist, something that Rawls is not.

After the discussion of Rawls and Habermas, Girardi turns his attention to the topic of the agonistic critique of rationalist political theory. Proponents of the agonistic critique advance a battery of objections stemming from the suspicion that the idealised conceptions that rationalist political theory employs do not correspond to reality. They tend to argue that rationalist political theory has invented a fictional political model using idealised conceptions of discourse, discussants, citizens, consensus, deliberation, and the discursive environment. Agonists are concerned that rationalist political theory ignores the possibility that some problems may be irresolvable in principle. They typically believe that (a) there is an irreducible plurality of values; and (b) when values come into conflict, it is a mistake to assume that the conflict can be resolved, or that it is necessarily possible to devise a comprehensive or overarching reconciliation procedure. They maintain that there is no political framework that can be devised a priori, that rationalist political theory marginalises people critical of the liberal consensus, and that it curtails the plurality of views.

Girardi proceeds to examine in more detail the respective positions of various agonistic thinkers, including Honig, Mouffe, Gray, and Connolly. In the course of this discussion, Girardi explores how they advocate resisting and disrupting the liberal consensus. Agonists like Gray and Connolly are proponents of a radical and ever-changing pluralism, which can involve a plurality of possible political frameworks. According to this kind of agonistic stance, illiberal views and illiberal political frameworks cannot be ruled out.

Husserl’s Europe as a Philosophical Project

Girardi draws attention to the important distinction between Husserl’s “idea” of Europe and his “absolute idea” of Europe. Husserl’s “idea” of Europe is a conception of European culture. It is so broad that it can be taken to refer to Western civilisation in general, including the colonial expansion of the British Empire, and the migration of European peoples to North America. It excludes, however, itinerant peoples such as the Roma. This “idea” of Europe is formed eidetically based on what is given in concrete empirical instances. Every culture or civilisation will have an equivalent “idea” or “spiritual shape” of this kind.

By contrast, Husserl’s “absolute idea” of Europe is not constituted eidetically on the basis of empirical instances. Instead, it is a self-standing ideal concept grounded in rationality itself. It is independent of, and in that sense transcends, actual human experiences. According to Husserl, the “birthplace” of this “absolute idea” of Europe was Ancient Greece. It is the idea of a completely rational human civilisation.

When Husserl speaks of a European “crisis”, he essentially means that Western civilisation has fallen short of, or fallen away from, its rational ideal, that is, its “absolute idea”. More specifically, Husserl believes that we have become so enthralled by scientific discoveries and technological developments that our understanding of the true remit of rationality has become impoverished and truncated. In the first part of The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology, Husserl scrutinises and critiques the way many people, including some scientists, tend to think about the hard sciences. He says they “take for being what is actually method”. By this he means that they think the idealised scientific world is the actual real world. Science has been so successful that one begins to think of the idealised mathematical world that the scientific method works with as the real world. The trouble is that we have forgotten that the sciences presuppose the world as we ordinarily experience it. Husserl observes that we still require philosophy to ground science, on pain of committing ourselves to the erroneous position of naturalism, which is the view that the only possible objects of knowledge are the objects of the natural sciences. Naturalism subtracts cultural properties from objects, and excludes all matters pertaining to value. Those caught up in naturalism overlook or ignore the fact that we still require philosophy to investigate the existential meaning of life and its value. Another way of looking at this is to realise that philosophy, for whatever reason, has failed to be a satisfactory foundation for the sciences. This amounts to a falling short of rationalism as a whole.

For Husserl, the fundamental distinction in political thought has to be between rationality and irrationality. Europe’s failure to understand the remit of rationality has led some citizens to seek existential meaning in irrational areas, such as ethno-nationalist politics, or develop an hostility to reason, and has led some European governments to pursue irrational foreign policies. Husserl believes that the catastrophe of the first world war revealed the irrationality, the “inner untruth, the meaninglessness” that had befallen European civilisation.

We have found, then, that philosophy itself is implicated in, and entangled with, the crisis that Husserl is describing. It is only when philosophers can understand the nature of the crisis that has engulfed them, and for which they are partly responsible, that they can begin to find a way out of it. The first step is to reassess what rationality really is, and what its remit is. Rationality should include what Girardi calls “existentially relevant questions”. Once we have revised our understanding of rationality, we must then recommit ourselves to it.

Husserl’s Reestablishment of the Ideal of Reason

Husserl believes that, in response to Europe’s “crisis”, there are a number of pressing reasons for exploring the “life-world”, which is constituted in one’s pre-scientific experience of the world. One of these reasons is the overcoming of naturalism, and the provision of a proper epistemological foundation for the sciences. Another reason is to investigate what Girardi calls “existentially relevant questions”, which includes enquiry into moral values. The life-world can disclose to us things that we pre-theoretically intuit to be morally right. An example of this is that when a group of people live in proximity to one another, we often find it morally appropriate to come together in a community of love, in which individuals are valued and loved in all of their uniqueness and particularity. Phenomenologically, it is an intrinsic property of moral values that they transcend time and space: they are applicable at all times and in all places. This brings us to the idea that an important reason to investigate the life-world is to uncover a universal sense of the world. Finding a world valid for everyone is relevant to the field of reconciliation between conflicting parties and nations. Indeed, chapter 5’s main concern is the problem of finding a universal life-world.

One and the same perceptual object may be understood to be amenable to being apprehended in separate acts located across a set of perspectival and temporal positions. The set of perspectival and temporal positions may be said to form an intentional horizon, and this is sometimes referred to as the object’s internal horizon. Yet in addition to an internal horizon, perceptual objects are also found to be embedded within an external horizon. Husserl describes the external horizon as “the openness of the world as an indeterminate horizon against which things can become determinate.” The internal and external horizons are both regulative principles ordering experience.

Every life-world partially “fills in” the indeterminate external horizon. The external horizon is pre-given and implicit in every life-world. Husserl calls this universal horizon the world in general. The world in general is the world in its universal sense. We find that objects belonging to the world in its universal sense are not only given horizonally (internally and externally) but also carry the sense “experienceable by everyone”, or “meant for all”.

It is important to note that in the life-world, perceptual objects belong to a wider cultural world of values that exceeds them. The life-world is always already embedded in one’s culture. So there is in this sense a plurality of life-worlds across the population of the world, since there is a plurality of cultures. Or to put it another way, the life-world of someone aware of the existence of other cultures is a plurality of cultural worlds.

This would seem to raise the aspiration of finding a universal culture. It is to this end that Husserl tries to find an account of the life-world that is consistent with rationality, and hence valid for everyone. Husserl seeks the rationalisation of culture, but not its deletion. This leads Husserl to consider the possibility that perhaps philosophy could take certain traditional beliefs and somehow restate them philosophically. We might cautiously draw some encouragement from the observation that there is already some commonality discernible between the various life-worlds. One reason for this is common biological needs across all humans. Another reason is sharing the same planet.

In the course of chapter 5, also Girardi raises some doubts about the prospects for Husserl’s rationalist teleology, and mentions a number of possible objections to it, including the agonistic critique.

Patočka, Problematicity, and Politics

Patočka’s relation to Husserl is a complex one, and ultimately ambivalent. Whilst Patočka agrees with Husserl that the life-world and the scientific interpretation of the world very often seem to be at odds with each other, he is doubtful on the question of whether such conflict can always be resolved. Husserl finds grounds for believing in the possibility of the resolution of such conflict in what he sees as the intrinsically teleological structure of experience. However, Patočka argues that there is no absolute grounding for the meaning of the objects that appear to us. The world as a whole is implicit in the meaning of the objects that appear to us, but it doesn’t make sense to ascribe a final meaning to the world as a whole. The world as a whole doesn’t have a meaning, but instead should be understood to be the horizon of all meaning.

Patočka’s criticism of Husserl suggests that we ought to look more carefully at the phenomenology of the life-world and how we go about attributing meaning to the objects we encounter there. Patočka thinks Husserl makes the mistake of striving for a philosophy that will be capable of deciding, or eventually converging upon, the final meaning of the world. By contrast, Patočka thinks the world as a whole has significance but not a final meaning. In fact, he maintains that significance precludes the possibility of a final meaning. So we must distinguish between significance and signification. The act of intuiting significance, for Patočka, means grasping the potential for a system of possible significations. Interestingly, this leads Patočka to the view that instances of apparent meaninglessness can have significance, on the grounds that they might harbour the possibility of finding meanings.

This brings us to Patočka’s concept of problematicity. Problematicity refers to an absolute indeterminacy in the meaning of an event or an experience. Patočka’s concepts of significance and problematicity can therefore be regarded as two sides of the same coin. Problematicity is always in relation to a fundamental moment of significance. Events and experiences that strike us as significant always seem to refuse a final meaning. We experience problematicity when we run up against the limits of meaning. The experience of problematicity subverts the sense of the world passed down by tradition, myth, ideology, and religion. Patočka thinks religions tend to make the mistake of bestowing a signification on certain instances of significance. According to Patočka, problematicity has always been part of human experience. The history of mankind is one of shaking the certitude of a pre-given meaning. Every life-world is intrinsically problematical. The disenchanted scientific world that rationalism ushers in is problematical, because there is a loss of transcendent meaning. In general, Patočka wants to postulate a problematical relationship, or an incongruence, between the empirical and the ideal. Patočka thinks we have in the end to regard problematicity as an objective insight, that is, that problematicity is to be regarded as a structural characteristic of human existence and the world in general. It is to be thought of as a feature of the world, not a deficiency in our understanding of it. Patočka’s account of problematicity renders his philosophy incompatible with both Husserlian phenomenology and Christianity. It precludes a rationalist teleology toward a unitary universal life-world.

Understanding Patočka’s concept of problematicity is one thing, but understanding its phenomenology is another. It makes sense to suppose that if one wished to explore the phenomenology of problematicity, then it would become most salient in situations involving a pronounced or unequivocal incongruence between the empirical and the ideal. This explains why Patočka finds encounters with meaninglessness to be particularly illuminating of the phenomenology of problematicity. Patočka wants to suggest that in the encounter with an instance of meaninglessness, one can be moved to bring meaning into the encounter oneself, by sacrificing oneself in some sense. One decides spontaneously to put oneself on the line, so to speak, without concern for, or clear knowledge of, the consequences for oneself or for others. Patočka’s “sacrifice” is an existential refusal of nihilism. It manages to eschew or stave off the Nietzschean response to the problem of nihilism, according to which the only way to produce meaning is through force, strength, and power. In Patočka’s sacrifice, then, we seem to have an experience of transcendence without a metaphysical positing of that transcendence. Patočka calls this Negative Platonism. It seems to be about demonstrating how strongly you are choosing to commit yourself to certain values. One experiences an absolute freedom in doing so.

This idea of discovering a meaning to life that reaches beyond one’s own survival, the satisfaction of one’s own appetites, and the mere perpetuation of human life is consonant with the Ancient Greek philosophical project of the “care for the soul”, which Patočka himself seeks to adopt and incorporate into his own philosophy. Patočka thinks freedom is crucial to the care of the soul. One chooses, in a  free act of the will, a project or a cause whose scope transcends the immediate parameters of one’s own life. Adopting such a project places one in a position to live a free, responsible, and thoughtful life in which one’s thoughts and actions should be in harmony with the project. Instead of constantly reacting to circumstances, one begins to think and act meaningfully and coherently in the world. In the confrontation with instances of apparent meaninglessness, Patočka’s notions of sacrifice and the care of the soul offer a way of escaping what he sees as an excessive reliance on rationality, and is conducive toward an existentially responsible shaping of one’s life. It is a path toward a deepening of the soul.

Committing to a cause that you have chosen for yourself motivates you to enquire, research, and work things out for yourself, instead of relying on pre-given answers that have been passed down by religion or tradition. This is why, for Patočka, the care of the soul is fundamental to politics. Part of Patočka’s politics is aimed at forging new forms of community outside of the traditional community. Such communities should always comprise diverse views and opinions. They prioritise debate, dissidence, and dialogue over the survival of the community. Patočka sees a parallel between a society’s dissidents and Plato’s “guardian class”. They demonstrate model characteristics for everyone else: public spirited, community minded, ascetic, sincere, admonishing, speaking inconvenient truths, self-sacrificing. Because of their integrity, they are well suited to running stable institutions for a society. We find, then, that Patočka’s political philosophy takes its inspiration from Plato’s notions of the care of the soul, and the just state.

Patočka’s ambivalent relation to Husserl therefore turns out to be highly relevant to the contemporary debate surrounding the theory of the state and the question of finding the right architecture for a pluralist political framework. The philosophical rationale behind such an architecture is multi-faceted. Firstly, just as the polis of Ancient Greece provided a framework for dissent and debate, Patočka desires a respectful political space in which conflicting views can be aired, scrutinised, and reflected upon. Patočka, together with other agonistic political thinkers who have taken up his thought, want to find ways of incorporating dissidence and problematicity into our political institutions. Yet Patočka also wants his philosophy to inform a constructive politics – a politics that is capable of effectuating change, as well as facilitating dissent and debate. The framework and space for such debate and discussion is what Patočka calls the sphere of the political. For Patočka, the sphere of the political is distinct from politics. The sphere of the political is essentially indeterminate with respect to ideology, because it is grounded in the concept of problematicity. Such a political sphere will be more likely to forestall tendencies toward totalitarianism, and make twentieth century atrocities such as the Holocaust less likely to recur.

Furthermore, Patočka wants to find a middle way between rationalism and relativism. Pluralism cannot be allowed to become pure relativism, on the grounds that activity within the polis must be subject to certain norms of conduct and procedure. On the other hand, Patočka also wants to avoid pure rationalism, because he believes pure rationalism can lead to a kind of intellectual cul-de-sac that neglects the care of the soul. One of the attributes of a just state is that it is possible for the one who cares for his soul to flourish. This is connected to a concern of Patočka’s that liberal democracies can be conducive to a kind of moral vacuity, and don’t sufficiently nurture human freedom.

Part of the task lies in navigating the inherent tension between freedom, as Patočka conceives it, and the state’s institutions. A step in the right direction has been taken by some liberal democracies to the extent that they have a separation of powers between different institutions. They separate powers between the government of the day, the law-makers, the judiciary, law enforcement, and so on. This is what is meant when it is said that democracy is an institutionalisation of conflict, and that a healthy democracy will have an absolute indeterminacy at its foundation. Additionally, state institutions can have an important role in protecting certain basic freedoms, such as  those of petition, association, publication, assembly, and speech. Subject to certain conditions, a healthy liberal democracy will actively encourage the expression of a diversity of views.

The desire to forestall relativism raises the question of whether there should be hurdles or entry criteria to the sphere of the political. The successful operation of Patočka’s political framework would not depend upon the possibility of a reconciliation between conflicting parties, but merely a mutual recognition of the essentially problematic nature of human existence. All parties should subscribe to a shared view of problematicity. Conflicting parties find themselves sharing a space of significance. One “prays for the enemy”, or at least tolerates him as a valid participant in the debate. This kind of tolerance is known as agonistic respect. Patočka calls it the “solidarity of the shaken”.

Patočka himself is pessimistic about the prospects for a widespread spiritual conversion to his doctrine of problematicity. It would require a transformation of political culture, a collective conversion to a new “civil religion”. But a new civil religion of problematicity, Patočka believes, would give modern human existence a meaning that it currently lacks.

Discussion Point 1 – Two Kinds of Optimism

One of this book’s key topics is reconciliation. This could mean reconciling the worldviews of two different cultures, reconciling two warring nations, or reconciling the agendas of two political parties. In this context there are two relevant senses of the term “optimism” (and similarly “pessimism”) in relation to the prospects for such a reconciliation. In some places, it is clear which sense Girardi has in mind, but in other places it is not always entirely clear.

Firstly, there is a teleological sense. For instance, one might believe that it belongs to the nature of rational discourse to arrive, sooner or later, at an agreement. Husserl believes that Western culture has an inborn teleology, a striving toward rationality and a life of reflective self-responsibility. When Girardi refers to “optimistic rationalism”, I infer that he is using “optimistic” in this teleological sense.

Secondly, there is a practical sense. For instance, one might believe, purely on the basis of what one knows about the world, human nature, and our political realities, that there are grounds for hope in relation to the prospects for reconciliation in certain areas. As Girardi points out, in this practical sense, Husserl himself is not entirely optimistic about our prospects. Husserl acknowledges that often history seems to be resisting and frustrating his goal. This is why Husserl describes his infinite task as “a struggle between awakened reason and the powers of historical reality.”

Two examples of where it is not entirely clear which sense is being used are: “Overall, however, Patočka is certainly less optimistic about Europe’s trajectory and the capacities of reason than Husserl was.” [94]; and “Although the possibility of a positive appropriation of problematicity is indicated here, Patočka is also pessimistic of the possibility of such a metanoia on a grand scale.” [122].

Discussion Point 2 – Habermas’s Shift to Post-secularism

Towards the end of chapter 5, Girardi points out some commonality and complementarity between Husserl’s and Habermas’s political philosophies, in that they both exhibit a faith in the process of reconciliation between different views. Girardi points out that Habermas “[…] attempt[s] a purely procedural approach to reconciliation”, and has “a faith in the rational transformation of particular views with an eye on their reconciliation” [89]. Girardi indicates that, according to Habermas, “all relevant views can meaningfully by reconciled with each other” [90]. Girardi argues that it is debatable whether Husserl’s and Habermas’s optimism with respect to the possibility of reconciliation between diverse views is justified, and that we need to consider the possibility that some views are not amenable to a process of rational reconciliation.

My concern here is that this particular discussion in chapter 5 doesn’t distinguish between Habermas’s earlier and later work. We have already learned in chapter 3 that “[i]n his later work, [Habermas] is no longer as committed to the secularisation thesis as he was in his earlier work” [39], and that in his later work Habermas sees liberal democracy as “a rationalisation, of communicative practices already present in more traditional worldviews, even if he no longer believes that these traditional worldviews can fully be replaced” [39]. Girardi also suggests in chapter 3 that when Habermas says he will not impose the condition of reflexivity on the worldviews of others, he comes close to “problematic relativism” [39].

Discussion Point 3 – The Holocaust

The Holocaust is pertinent to this book in a number of ways. Firstly, references to the Holocaust have an admonitory function. They serve to remind participants in the discussion about Europe’s political future of the imperative to avert a recurrence of something like the atrocities of the second world war. Indeed, the book’s closing sentence warns about the importance of not forgetting about them.

Secondly, the book is also concerned with enquiring into the complex web of causation behind the Holocaust. Girardi rightly points out that the extent of rationalism’s causal role behind the Holocaust remains a matter of controversy. [13] Yet the Holocaust would not have been possible without either advances in military and industrial technology, or systematic planning. So rationalism is certainly implicated in the web of causation, and Girardi is inclined to endorse Zygmunt Bauman’s idea of a “structural connection between the Holocaust and modernity” [19]. My observation about the phrase “structural connection” is that it could be taken to imply that modernity was somehow always going to entail something like the Holocaust. Perhaps such an implicit claim requires more justification than Girardi provides.

Thirdly, considerations about the web of causation behind the Holocaust lead on to questions about culpability. The egregious nature of the immorality of the Holocaust leads Girardi to believe that European civilisation itself bears some culpability for even making it possible. [150] It seems to me that laying a portion of blame at the door of European civilisation itself raises the following potential problem. What is to be said in this regard to Eastern European countries, for example, who tend to be less willing than Germany to accept culpability for the Holocaust? For them, Holocaust culpability is not part of their national identity. [26]

Fourthly, Girardi is also interested in how the Holocaust has affected our understanding of the broad sweep of European history, and the extent to which the Holocaust has dispelled a “Grand Narrative” of European cultural progress. There is no escaping the force of the observation that it would be a very strange “Grand Narrative” indeed that led up to something like the Holocaust. Yet Girardi also recognises that, after the Holocaust, the “Grand Narrative” did not disappear completely from the way historians thought about European history. [170]

As I reflect on the various ways in which the Holocaust haunts Girardi’s book, I find myself wondering if it might have been fitting for him to have said more about Patočka’s account of war contained in the sixth of his Heretical Essays. It is relevant to the question of causation, and, by implication, to the question of culpability, and provides an original metaphysical perspective on how we might understand the hecatombs of the first and second world wars.

Conclusion

As its title indicates, Europe, Phenomenology, and Politics in Husserl and Patočka is broad in scope, and covers a lot of historical and philosophical ground. What stood out for me was the way it raised and explored the question of the limitations of rationality, and the unsettling possibility that the worthy aspiration to eliminate conflict and hostility in world affairs could turn out to be metaphysically mistaken and futile. In that respect, I found the chapters engaging with the thought of Jan Patočka particularly valuable. In those chapters I was impressed by Girardi’s elucidation of the ways in which Patočka’s philosophy is informed by subtle echoes and motifs from Christianity, such as the ideas of sacrifice and praying for the enemy.

In addition to becoming acquainted with the philosophy of Jan Patočka, and agonistic political thought more generally, there are many other good reasons for studying this book. Some readers will be seeking to find out more about the diverse roots of European culture. Other readers will be aiming to improve their understanding of the philosophical motivations behind rationalist pluralism and liberal democracy. Yet others will be interested in Edmund Husserl’s account of Europe’s “crisis”, and how his concerns about Europe motivate his phenomenological project. Girardi’s fascinating book is a thorough enquiry into the main currents that inform the contemporary debate about the direction of European politics. It is an absorbing read from start to finish, and contains a treasure trove of insights for anybody interested in the intersection between philosophy and politics.

 

Kenneth Maly: A Refreshing and Rethinking Retrieval of Greek Thinking

A Refreshing and Rethinking Retrieval of Greek Thinking Book Cover A Refreshing and Rethinking Retrieval of Greek Thinking
New Studies in Phenomenology and Hermeneutics
Kenneth Maly
The University of Toronto Press
Hardback
xxxv + 288

Reviewed by: R.A. Goodrich (ACHE Chapter of the Society for the History of Emotions – University of Melbourne & ADI Philosophy & History of Ideas – Deakin University)

 

Kenneth Maly begins his pedagogical book, the seventeenth volume in the “New Studies in Phenomenology and Hermeneutics” series since 2006, by directly addressing his readers with a set of suggestions and guidelines (xi-xv). Only later does he announce that his “project” is written for those not necessarily possessing any “philosophical training” (17). In the course of retrieving ancient Greek thinking, readers will encounter “issues of translation, the core theme of change” and thereby “the dynamic … intertwining conditions” that enter “the more hidden way of thinking that is less logical” (17). To achieve such a retrieval, Maly nominates a pre-eminent hermeneutic pair, Friedrich Nietzsche and Martin Heidegger, whose earlier published and unpublished writings “shed light on how things ‘started’ in the early days of Western thinking” (xxviii; cf. xviii).

The Retrieval of Greek Thinking is divided into four main parts preceded by a personal “Preamble” based upon extensive dialogue about Maly’s “project” at the onset of the deadly SARS-CoV-2 plague (xvii-xxxv) and an “Interlude” introducing Heidegger’s “key words” and what they and their cognates “say-show” (3-16). The first part (17-92) surveys traditional, often ossified interpretations of ancient Greek thinking before several forays into alternative approaches of what the ancients “experienced, thought, and said” (17) including examples drawn especially from Nietzsche (47ff., 63ff.). The second part (93-163) delves into Maly’s framework centrally associated with Heidegger and his re-interpretations of, for instance, Anaximandros, Parmenides, and Herakleitos. Also contained within the second part are holistic analogies with David Bohm questioning quantum theory and with Lao Tzu evoking the Dao principle. The third part (165-288) explicates ten ancient Greek words, ten pivotal concepts ranging from khora, aletheia, and phusis to logos, psukhe, and nous, as reconstrued by Heidegger. The final part (289-319) closes by way of four questions or issues calling for further enquiry as well as a coda elaborating how “everything is connected, driven by potential” by which all of us “will be transformed” (314 & 319).

Given limits upon length, what follows will mainly probe the use made of Nietzsche and (whilst acknowledging the larger role played by Heidegger throughout the text) will concentrate upon the latter’s first book to appear in English, the 1935 Einführung in die Metaphysik [Introduction to Metaphysics], that is, before Heidegger’s lectures from 1936/1937 onwards began repeatedly yoking Nietzsche to the Greek-influenced poet Friedrich Hölderlin (apart from 1935, pp. 96-97). In keeping with Maly’s mode of presentation within the Retrieval of Greek Thinking, this review essay will conclude with the kind of apophatic discourse not only permeating Maly but also encountered in Nietzsche and Heidegger. This endpoint shapes the degree to which interpretations of crucial examples of extant writing or thinking attributed to centuries of Hellenic intellectuals from Thales of Miletos onwards remains open to debate. For instance, Heidegger laments how we become mired in “the terminology of linguistics,” in “technical instruments that we use mechanically to dissect language and establish rules” which “grew out of a very definite interpretation of the Greek and Latin languages” (1935, pp. 40 & 41). Without supplying evidence, it is not obvious that the long neglected Dionysos Thrax’s Tékhnē grammatikē (ca. 100 B.C.) and Marcus Terentius Varro’s De lingua latina (ca. 44 B.C.) respectively are candidates given their marked theoretical and practical differences as Daniel Taylor (1990) amongst others documents. Such contestability is not simply a debate over the interpretive use of textual contexts and intellectual allusions as Lara Pagani (2011) reviews. It equally derives from the presumption that adhering to the monistic if not holistic hypothesis that all that exists ultimately can be referred to one category (e.g. 301-303, 314-315) in opposition to upholding a duality of mind and matter. Or, in Maly’s words, apprehending the “It” is tantamount to attending to “what is happening beyond the physical and the measurable” (318). His “Meanderings” section (300-312) captures a multiplicity of ways to experience “It,” but “only with non-conceptual thinking and saying … that is poi-etic” (300) where the “poi-etic” involves “connotation rather than denotation” and is “open-ended rather than defining” (135). Ultimately, the “It”

is not a thing, even though things are one with it. It is not physical, even though physical things are one with it. It is not measurable, even though measurables are one with it. (318)

I

 

Having disclosed the direction of this critique, let us begin with Nietzsche’s incomplete 1873 manuscript Die Philosophie im tragischen Zeitalter der Griechen [Philosophy in the Tragic Age of the Greeks]. Maly praises it for its “groundbreaking insight” into “how to approach the Greeks, how to see and hear … uncluttered by inherited biases” (77) notwithstanding his overall goal of extending “Nietzsche’s intentions beyond even the steps he took”:

Nietzsche here is a springboard that takes us further … in a way he did not – and perhaps could not … [given] possibilities that were not yet available when Nietzsche attempted his history of ancient Greek philosophy. (73)

From Nietzsche’s perspective, Thales to Sokrates epitomized “an inherently insatiable thirst for knowledge” and they “controlled it by their ideal need for and consideration of all the values of life” (§1, 31). Moreover, he continues, “what they invented were the archetypes of philosophic thought” and formed not a “republic of scholars,” but a “republic of creative minds” (§1, 31 & 32). Yet Thales, the earliest acclaimed philosopher, leaves us in a quandary because he apparently began “with an absurd notion, with the proposition that water is the origin and womb of all things” (§3, 38). According to Nietzsche, there are three reasons for attending to this proposition:

First, because it tells us something about the primal origin of all things; second, because it does so in language devoid of image or fable, and finally, contained … if only embryonically, is the thought “all things are one.” The first reason still leaves Thales in the company of the religious and the superstitious; the second … shows him as a natural scientist, but the third makes him the first Greek philosopher. (§3, 39)

Even if the above-mentioned proposition was not actually stated as a “pure abstraction,” but instead functions as “a concrete expression of it,” even if the thought is “unprovable,” its “value” centres “precisely in the fact that it was meant non-mythically and non-allegorically” (§3, 42 & 41) — and, as Maly might add, non-scientifically (48).

Maly, revisiting Nietzsche’s 1873 manuscript, contends that it recognised amongst early Greek thinkers a realisation that “‘the way things are’ is a dynamic unfolding,” a “dynamic of interdependent conditions and not merely independent things/being” nor, for that matter, the presence of “a highest being or highest unchanging principle” (63). Their texts should not be regarded as “incomplete or failed attempts” at ordering neatly organized logical arguments, but as engaging in dialogue “intended to expand our ability to think, our ability to stay with the question” in all its “complexity” (64 & 65). However, before embarking upon an Excursus on “the word tragic” (65ff.), Maly declares that “Nietzsche’s truth – my truth – is not a dogma but rather an engagement in developing the mind … that goes beyond mere academic exercise.” By so doing, intellectual “gymnastics” should be rejected so that “thinking” instead becomes “conscious, critical awareness” without “reaching a ‘final completedness’” (64).

II

The Excursus rapidly dissects the meaning of “tragedy” and “tragic” as well as the Dionysian-Apollinian dialectic within Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy [Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik] (2nd edn. 1874). For Maly, the term “tragedy literally means ‘goat song’,” although the connection between the two remains uncertain (65). Without providing readers details of possible connections, Maly basically recapitulates Nietzsche’s conflated aesthetic, epistemological and metaphysical speculations (66-69). Yet passing comments in the extant writing of Herodotos, Thoukydides, and Aristoteles – all of whom variously analysed the eventual dominance and significance of Peisistratos from 560/559 to 528/527 B.C. over Athens and the region of Attika – have long been used to rationalise a welter of possible genetic connections. For example, the term might refer to the goat sacrificed in rituals to the god Dionysios from which tragedy in theatre eventually developed; or, by analogy, to the sacrificial nature of the protagonist facing death within rituals and performances; or to the goat skin costumes of performers comprising the chorus; or, relatedly, to the use of a chorus of satyrs often depicted as half-goat, half-human. Equally conjectural are attempts to anchor the connection historically, notably, the first enactment of tragedy at Athens’ City Dionysia by the actor/playwright Thespis, ca. 534 B.C., the first one said to have initiated dialogue between an individual actor and the choric leader (khoragos) and to be awarded a goat.

Even a cursory reading of Nietzsche’s opening sections – a book he described to Friedrich Ritschl as “a manifesto” (Letter 40, 30 January 1872) – depicts tragedy as the Dionysian and the Apollinian “mutually augmenting one another” (§4, p. 47). Whilst Maly’s conclusion of his Excursus (70-71) mentions both the “contrast” and the “dynamic tension between the two,” the tripartite nature of perspectives embedded within Nietzsche is not fully clarified here for his readers. In brief, metaphysically speaking, the Dionysian is the “truly existent primordial unity, eternally suffering and contradictory” (§4, p. 45). For the ancient Greeks, “the greatest abstraction” beforehand had “kept running back into a person.” But Thales had purportedly said, “Not man, but water is the reality of all things” (§3, p. 42). Next, epistemologically speaking, only through a state of “intoxication” – Rausch akin to ekstasis (cf. §1, p. 36) – can the most “horrible truth” be glimpsed and, “once seen, man now sees everywhere only the horror or absurdity of existence” to the point where “now he understands the wisdom of … Silenus” (§7, p.60). In the words of Seilenos, legendary mentor and companion of Dionysos, so often echoed by poets and philosophers alike, “What is best of all is … not to be born, not to be, to be nothing. But the second best for you is—to die soon” (§3, p. 42). It is an understanding not merely affectively felt or experienced, but also able to be expressed or predicated in communicable language. Finally, aesthetically speaking, once our individual rational apprehension with all its “restraint and proportion” has “succumbed to the self-oblivion of the Dionysian states” associated by Nietzsche with dance and music initially, then “Excess” – Übermaß or that beyond measure or proportion – will have “revealed itself as truth” and contradiction (“the bliss born of pain spoke[n] out from the very heart of nature”) (§4, pp. 46-47).

The Apollinian is also expounded thrice. To continue drawing upon Nietzsche’s wording, metaphysically speaking, the “two halves of our existence, the waking and the dreaming states,” are “compelled” to uphold “the truly nonexistent” in the form of “a perpetual becoming in time, space, and causality,” that is, as “empirical reality” (§4, pp. 44-45). So, epistemologically speaking, when construing “our empirical existence, and that of the world in general, as a continuously manifested representation” of a postulated “primal unity,” we know little more than “a mere appearance of mere appearance” in dreaming states and “mere appearance” (Erscheinung) in waking states “as that which alone is lived” (§4, pp. 45 & 44). Aesthetically speaking, the arts for artist and spectator alike are “absorbed in the pure contemplation of images” (Bildern), and whose satisfaction in “minutest details” are akin to the “dreamer’s pleasure in illusion” – “together with its beauty” (§ 1, p. 36) – or are “projections” of one’s “self” (§5, p. 50).

Whenever the Dionysian and Apollinian interact in genuinely tragic artworks, Nietzsche declares, it is “only as an aesthetic phenomenon that existence and the world are eternally justified” (§5, p. 52). Towards the end of Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche repeats his declaration, elaborating upon his “leap into a metaphysics of art” by conceding that there is “only one way to make it intelligible and grasp it immediately.” How? Through the “significance of musical dissonance” (§24, p. 141). As does tragic myth, music also possesses the “same origin,” a “common source,” in the Dionysian “primordial joy experienced even in pain” (§24, p. 141). Alternatively expressed, “artistically employed dissonances” reveal to us “the playful construction and destruction” of a world, such “world-building force” being comparable to a child at play building “sand hills only to overthrow them again” (§24, pp. 141-142). Here, Nietzsche has shifted from portrayals of the diurnal world, from portrayals of “an art degenerated to mere entertainment” or to “a life guided by concepts” (§24, p. 142). Instead, we enter “a sphere of art that lies beyond the Apollinian” (§25, p. 143) where

art is not merely imitation of the reality of nature but rather a metaphysical supplement of the reality of nature, placed beside it for its overcoming … [and] participates fully in this metaphysical intention of art to transfigure. (§24, p. 140)

III

In this penultimate section, let us briefly examine Maly’s attempt to guide his non-philosophical readers from the normal, traditional static duality we first inherit and upon which we first reflect (“the first beginning”) towards the retrievable “non-conceptual experience” of the dynamic non-duality (“the other beginning”) that he contends is “knowable beyond conceptualization and is sayable only in non-conceptual, poi-etic language” (169). As befits this lengthy third part of Retrieval of Greek Thinking, it adheres to “the transformation of thinking and language” undertaken by Heidegger as he journeyed towards the non-dualistic in pursuit of “the meaning or question of being” (169).

Maly seizes upon the “unresolvable tension” this question raises, translating the crux of Heidegger’s 1935 Freiberg lectures, the Einführung, as: “We stand between two equally unsurpassable limits: On the one hand, as we think and say ‘being “is,”’ we immediately make being [Sein] into a being [das Seiende] …. on the other hand, as long as we experience beings, we can never deny the ‘being’ and the ‘is’” (171). Heidegger (1935, pp. 23ff.) subsequently elucidates the distinction not only by examples of individual objects such as a piece of chalk’s characteristics, but also by way of institutional objects such as a school whose building both inside and outside has a multitude of specifiable features. Yet the being or existence as such (Sein) of chalk or of school which makes it a particular being rather than a non-being (nichtseiend) eludes us. In wrestling with this conundrum, Maly urges his readers to avoid “oppositional” thinking, thinking limited to oscillating between “differences” (175).

However, what Maly neglects to examine for his targeted readers’ consideration are the multiple meanings or uses of the “is” when predicating or categorizing something (“that creek is algae-ridden”), when identifying or defining something (“this pentagon is a plane shape with five equal straight sides each of whose interior angles measures 108º”), and when stating the existence of something (“there is a supreme being”). That being as such (Sein) is “in” or belongs to particular beings such as chalk and school might at first be regarded as feasible since when ascribing characteristics to objects or things – “chalk is fragile” or “a school is a place of learning” – their existence is usually presumed before the characteristics being attributed to them. Yet presuming existence is not tantamount to identifying existence in itself as the most basic characteristic of existing objects simply because existence in itself is not a characteristic or ground, ingredient or source of existing objects. In other words, if we emphatically state that “cheetahs and dragonflies do exist,” we are stressing that some things possess characteristics connoted by the words “cheetahs” and “dragonflies”; that is, that these sets of characteristics apply to certain things.  Similarly, if we state that “centaurs and unicorns do not exist,” then we are denying that anything possesses characteristics connoted by the words “centaurs” and “unicorns”; that is, that these sets of characteristics do not apply to anything notwithstanding our imaginative ways of picturing fictional entities. Heidegger’s disclosure of the paradoxical nature of being or existence as such (Sein) and his subsequent quest for pinpointing its tendency both to conceal and to reveal itself in particular beings (das Seiende) appear to be stymied from the onset.

For all its running commentary on key Greek terms, the third part of Retrieval of Greek Thinking gives little background about Heidegger’s response to and handling of pervasive turn-of-century phenomenological and hermeneutical analyses influencing his major writings in the decade before the 1939/1945 war (see, e.g., the Steven Crowell, Edgar Boedeker, and Cristina Lafont 2005 contributions). Two examples come immediately to mind. Firstly, by opposing the methodological division between mind and world, consciousness and its objects, with which to begin one’s philosophical enquiry, Heidegger began by refocusing upon indivisible being or existence as such and its meaning from which conscious and natural processes unfold in their turn. Secondly, when probing the fragmentary passages such as Herakleitos and Parmenides on logos (cf. 1935, e.g. pp. 96ff., 104ff.) up to Platon’s dialogue Timaios (ca. 360 B.C.) (cf. 1935, e.g. 50ff., 72ff., 137ff.), Heidegger often seems to be adapting a neo-platonic understanding of the metaphysical trajectory of early ancient Greek thinking and language (to be investigated in our concluding section).

Let us now end this section with the potential danger faced by Maly’s designated readers. In the attempt to defamiliarize traditional or reductive interpretations of pivotal notions including phusis and aletheia, do Maly and Heidegger all too frequently resort to neologisms that read as stipulations to be absorbed rather than debated? Consider the following passage about the “inner connection between Being and seeming”:

… we can grasp this connection fully only if we understand “Being” in a correspondingly originary way, … in a Greek way. We know that Being opens itself up to the Greeks as phusis. The emerging-abiding sway is in itself at the same time the appearing that seems. The roots phu- and pha- name the same thing. Phuein, the emerging that reposes in itself, is phainesthai, lighting-up, self-showing, appearing …

It would be instructive to clarify the naming force of this word through the great poetry of the Greeks, as well. Here, it may be enough to indicate that for Pindar, for example, phua is the fundamental characteristic of Dasein: to de phua kratiston hapan, that which is from and through phua is wholly and fully the most powerful (Olympian Ode IX, 100); phua means what one originally and authentically already is: that which essentially unfolds as having been (das Ge-Wesende), in contrast to the subsequently forced and enforced contrivances and fabrications. (Heidegger 1935, p. 77)

Now consider some of Maly’s glosses, for instance, when readers first encounter Dasein which ordinarily signifies “to be there” with its prefix da meaning “here” or “there” (3):

 In Heidegger’s thinking the word da indicates the “open expanse” in which one finds oneself … [and] always has an ecstatic character.

… from Sein und Zeit onward, it is a way of saying (1) being-in-the-world and (2) being in the opening-out (expanse) in which being itself emerges …. Thus, Dasein is the word for human existence in its ownmost and most proper way of being, that is, standing-out in the opening expanse … As such, the word Dasein describes the fundamental comportment or relationship that “humans” have – to the world and then to being as emerging – as “ec-static.” This names the fundamental shift, in Heidegger’s thinking, away from subjectivity and its objectifying, to the always already relatedness in the non-dual dynamic of no-thing and no-form “being” that cannot be objectified. (3-4)

Readers are also introduced to aspects of metaphysical being in itself (Sein). Aletheia is Greek for “truth,” the opposite of “falsity,” which “human judgement connects in concepts” that “corresponds” to “things” in the world (217). By contrast, Maly asserts, a-letheia contains the word lethe signifying the forgotten, the hidden, the concealed, the unseen where the negative prefix signifies “not” (217). After surveying phusis “beyond the traditional ‘reducing to the physical’” – including “nature”? – towards “growth, originating power, origin, force, birth” as signalled by its underpinning verb phuo (235-237), Maly gradually introduces “the playing field” (187) of phusis and aletheia, traced in Heidegger’s later seminars and essays especially on fragments of Herakleitos, by tabling the inner connections of being in itself and its manifestations or phenomena, and then noting:

I include φύσις here because it says the same as ἀ-λήθεια. Although the word emphasizes the action itself, it also shelters the no-form no-thing and dynamic withdrawing-concealing along with that which gets manifest or disclosed – all within the non-dual dynamic of radiant emptiness, aka beyng. There is no “third” aspect as such. Rather, by emphasizing this seemingly third aspect, we are empha­sizing movement from and to. But since all is one, this too is not separated from the non-dual one. (245)

To what extent can the anthropological, etymological, and ontological set of suppositions here unequivocally establish the veracity of Heidegger’s contention that “Being essentially unfolds as phusis” and is based upon “the unique essential relation between phusis and aletheia” (1935, pp. 77 & 78) as relayed by Maly?

IV

Despite sensitivity to the limitations of language and its translatability, the Retrieval of Greek Thinking and its emphasis upon Nietzsche’s and Heidegger’s hermeneutical approaches invites us to critically examine their deployment of apophatic discourse and thinking. When reflecting upon the Birth of Tragedy in his 1886 “Attempt at a Self-Criticism” [“Versuch einer Selbstkritik”], Nietzsche finds it “an impossible book” in an affective reconstruction of his authorial state of mind confronting the “what” was being expressed and the “how”:

I consider it badly written, ponderous, embarrassing, image-mad and image-confused, sentimental, in places saccharine … uneven in tempo, without the will to logical cleanliness, very convinced and therefore disdainful of proof, mistrustful even of the propriety of proof, a book for initiates …. What found expression here was anyway … a strange voice, the disciple of a still “unknown God” …. What spoke here … was something like a mystical, almost maenadic soul that stammered with difficulty, a feat of the will, as in a strange tongue, almost undecided whether it should communicate or conceal itself. It should have sung, this “new soul”—and not spoken! (§3, pp. 19-20)

Drafting a work during a period of relentless Prussian expansion especially at the expense of Austria and France by 1870/1871 and convalescing from illness contracted at the ten-week siege of Metz, Nietzsche concedes that “this questionable book” about the Greeks was “deeply personal” (§1, p. 17). Yet it obviously does not conform to an exercise in actual or fictional autobiography. Nor, as revealed above, is it a logical, provable argument; in fact, proof is not only scorned, but also seen as inappropriate if not surplus to the needs of readers initiated into Nietzsche’s realm of enquiry. Although better expressed in song than in speech, it becomes a realm expressible in the “strange voice” or “strange tongue” of a disciple of a yet-to-be known god, a disciple who appears to be struggling like “a mystical, almost maenadic soul” (§3, p. 20). By this stage, readers should have little difficulty sensing that female worshippers of Dionysios – the mainades – whose rites involving intoxicated dancing induced violent and enraged, frenzied and ecstatic states – are but a stepping stone into disentangling the question “what is Dionysian?” (§3, p. 20).

Birth of Tragedy provides a foretaste of apophatic discourse without recourse “merely by logical inference, but with the immediate certainty of vision” in which the Greek “terms Dionysian and Apollinian … disclose to the discerning mind the profound mysteries of their view of art, not, to be sure, in concepts, but in the intensely clear figures of their gods” emerging from “these art impulses of nature” (§1, p. 33; §2, p. 38). Between the “two art deities … there existed a tremendous opposition, in origin and aims, between the Apollinian art of sculpture, and the nonimagistic Dionysian art of music” but whose contrasting “tendencies run parallel to each other … till eventually, by a metaphysical miracle of the Hellenic ‘will,’ they appear coupled with each other” (§1, p. 33). When finally coupled in tragic myths, rituals, and the drama of Aiskhylos and Sophokles, the Dionysian is apprehended as “the eternal and original artistic power that first calls the whole world of phenomena into existence” and the Apollinian as “a new transfiguring illusion” that “becomes necessary in order to keep the animated world of individuation alive” (§25, p. 143). That this “should be necessary, everybody should be able to feel most assuredly by intuition” (§25, p. 144).

Needless to say, that language

can never adequately render the cosmic symbolism of music, because music stands in symbolic relation to the primordial contradiction and primordial pain in the heart of the primal unity, and therefore symbolizes a sphere which is beyond and prior to all phenomena (§6, p. 55)

continues to pose problems. For example, how can the “metaphysical intention of art to transfigure” and reveal itself as “a metaphysical supplement of the reality of nature” (§24, p. 140) when transcendental primal reality itself is “beyond and prior” possible experience? Granted, possible experience is patently not presumed by Nietzsche to follow the transcendental arguments and proofs of possible, systematically coherent experience developed by Immanuel Kant (1787, B.125ff. and B.756 & 813ff.). Furthermore, Nietzsche does not appeal to hypothetical counter-instances that appear as little more than cases of seeming experience. Instead, he actually appeals to his own experience of experiencing something of the transcendent when experiencing the third act of Richard Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde (1859) (§21, pp. 127ff.). But if the transcendental is beyond possible experience, then could whatever he purportedly experienced be an actual reportable experience of it? Other examples of what it is for the above-mentioned “cosmic symbolism of music” to reveal or intimate the transcendental brings us back to the vexed issue of what it is for the arts to represent anything. That, of course, returns us to Platon’s question about whether or not, in experiencing a work of art, we experience what that artwork represents (Politeia [Republic] (ca. 375 B.C.), Bk. X, 595b-602b).

Finally, apophatic discourse in arguably its most radical form can be located in the later neo-platonic text of Damaskios of Khalkis, Peri ton proton arkhon [On First Principles] (ca. 534). Damaskios exploits an aporia, namely, an impasse or conundrum, that in so far as the puskhe “divines that of all things, conceived in whatever way, there is a principle beyond all and without relation to all,” then “it should be called neither principle, nor first, nor before all, nor beyond all …; it must not be proclaimed, nor conceived, nor conjectured at all” (Part 1, §2, p. 24). Although “we can conceive nothing simpler than the One, the wholly one and only one,” any act of “predicating … categories” of it results in the “not knowable … not nameable” One being “made many.” Hence, such a predicated One, if “the cause of all and encompasses all,” impedes our capacity “to mount up beyond it” given that the “uncoordinated,” “circular” many “cannot form one cause” (Part 1, §2, p. 25). In brief, the One as the principle of all cannot be involved in any predicated characteristics or relationships because that would contradict its absolute transcendence. At best, the One is completely “ineffable,” completely “unsayable”:

And if it is necessary to indicate something, most useful are the negations of these predicates—that it is neither one nor many, neither productive nor infecund, neither cause nor deprived of causality—and such negations, I know not how, overturning themselves absolutely into infinity. (Part 1, §28, p. 39)

As his translator, William Franke (2004, p. 20) comments, to read Damaskios is to confront metalingual discourse driven to the very “limits of … intelligibility,” demonstrating where discourse “breaks down and yields to the ineffable”; exploiting “a style that is highly discursive and elliptical”; and deploying “the more skeptical-sounding vocabulary of reversal or turning around and against itself … of discourse that refutes and annuls itself”; yet “negatively register[ing] a vertiginous experience of radical transcendence.”

When Maly’s initial “Interlude” introduces Heidegger’s terminology of Dasein/Da-Sein, Seyn/Beyng, and Ereignis (and cognates), his focus is largely upon writings and lectures from 1936 to 1938 eventually assembled as Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis) [Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning) in Maly’s neologistic co-translation]. Maly advises his basically non-philosophical readers that his suggestions for handling Heidegger here include “to be aware that the word Sein was central to Heidegger’s pursuit from the very beginning, where sometimes … what Seyn says was more hidden than at other times” and to “decide for yourself how to read those instances of Sein that are ambiguous, given that there is no logical proof for all of this” (8).

Although this critical review has been limited to Einführung, the 1935 volume already exemplifies many facets of apophatic discourse in train (not to be confused with phenomenological “apophantic interpretations” in Sein und Zeit (see, e.g., Boedeker (2005), pp. 159f. & 168ff.)). Witness how a concluding metaphor reverses the relationship between who and what can speak (if not switching, as Charles Taylor (1992) argues, from “instrumental” language in actual circumstances to “constitutive” language in possible ones):

Even the very act of asking about “the essence of language … regulates itself in each case according to what has become the prevailing preconception about the essence of beings and about how we comprehend essence. But essence and Being speak in language” (1935, p. 41).

Now witness how the shortcomings of logical analysis of being as such (Sein) demands removal from a sphere not available to logic and philosophical enquiry reliant upon it:

despite Kant and Hegel, logic has not taken a single step farther in what is essential and inceptive. The only possible step remaining is to unhinge it [that is, as the definitive perspective for the interpretation of Being] from its ground up. (1935, p. 144)

Again, witness two neighbouring examples of how etymologically grounded neologistic expressions, whether in Greek or not, repeatedly pervade a noticeably roving or seemingly discursive style, yet increasingly becoming, for philosophically untrained readers, semantically elliptical as if struggling with what cannot be fully said:

… the having-of-itself wherein the constant holds itself, is the Being of beings; it is what first makes a being be a being as opposed to a nonbeing. For something to take such a stand therefore means for it to attain its limit, to de-limit itself. Thus a basic characteristic of a being is its telos, which does not mean goal or purpose, but end. Here “end” does not have any negative sense …. “end” means completion in the sense of coming to fulfillment [Vollendung]. (1935, p. 46)

What we have said helps us to understand the Greek interpretation of Being … in our explication of the term “metaphysics”—that is, the apprehension of Being as phusis. The later concepts of “nature,” we said, must be held at a distance from this: phusis means the emergent self-upraising, the self-unfolding that abides in itself. In this sway, rest and movement are closed and opened up from an originary unity. This sway is the overwhelming coming-to-presence that has not yet been surmounted in thinking, and within which that which comes to presence essentially unfolds as beings. But this sway first steps forth from concealment—that is, in Greek, aletheia (unconcealment) happens… (1935, p. 47)

Turning to the closure of the Einführung, notice how being in itself (Sein) can only be approached by what it is not so that “talk of the indeterminateness and emptiness of Being is erroneous” when searching for the “meaning of a word” (unless, readers might wonder, when “the happening in which Being becomes word, was poetry” (1935, p. 131)):

The determinateness of Being was brought before our eyes by the discussion of the four divisions:

Being, in contradistinction to becoming, is enduring.

Being, in contradistinction to seeming, is the enduring prototype, the always identical.

Being, in contradistinction to thinking, is what lies at the basis, the present-at-hand.

Being, in contradistinction to the ought, is what lies at hand in each case as what ought to be and has not yet been actualized, or already has been…

… The determinateness of Being is not a matter of delimiting a mere meaning of a word. It is the power that today still sustains and dominates all our relations to beings as a whole … (1935, p. 154)

 

Finally, reflecting upon Sein und Zeit, Heidegger distinguishes it from the Einführung as “a title” that cannot be meshed with the above-mentioned negative “divisions” because it “points to a completely different domain of questioning”:

 

In such a meditation, “Being and time” means not a book but the task that is given. The authentic task given here is what we do not know; and insofar as we know this genuinely—namely as a given task—we always know it only in questioning.

Being able to question means being able to wait, even for a lifetime. But [our] age … takes questioning as … something that does not count as profitable. But what is essential is not counting but the right time—that is, the right moment and the right endurance.

For the mindful god

does detest

untimely growth.

—Hölderlin, fragment from the period of “The Titans” (1935, p. 157)

 

Ultimately, Heidegger, ever mindful of Sophokles’ Antigone (ca. 442/441 B.C.) (see 1935, pp. 113ff.), has broached the understanding of being in itself (Sein) as that which is the realm of the inexpressible, the unsayable. The supposedly first “violent,” “deep intimations” of Dasein and Sein experienced by the ancient Greeks “and placed poetically into its ground, remains closed off to understanding” and “a mystery” had they “hastily take[n] refuge in some moral appraisal” (1935, p. 125).

 

 

 

References

 

Boedeker, Edgar. 2005. “Phenomenology.” In A Companion to Heidegger. Edited by Hubert Dreyfus & Mark Wrathall, 156-172. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing.

Crowell, Steven. 2005. “Heidegger and Husserl: The Matter and Method of Philosophy.” In A Companion to Heidegger. Edited by Hubert Dreyfus & Mark Wrathall, 49-64. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing.

Damaskios. ca. 534. On First Principles / Peri ton proton archon. Edited by L.G. Wersterink; translated by William Franke, “Of the Ineffable: Aporetics of the Notion of an Absolute Principle,” Arion ser. 3, 12(1), 2004: 19-39.

Heidegger, Martin. 1927. Being and Time / Sein und Zeit. Translated by John Macquarrie & Edward Robinson. London: SCM Press, 1962.

Heidegger, Martin. 1935. Introduction to Metaphysics / Einführung in die Metaphysik. Translated by Gregory Fried & Richard Polt. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000 [citations to the 1953 German pagination].

Heidegger, Martin. 1936-1938. Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning) / Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis). Edited by Friedrich-Wilhelm von Hermann; translated by Parvis Emad & Kenneth Maly. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999.

Kant, Immanuel. 1787. Critique of Pure Reason / Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Edited & translated by Paul Guyer & Allen Wood. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006.

Lafont, Cristina. 2005. “Hermeneutics.” In A Companion to Heidegger. Edited by Hubert Dreyfus & Mark Wrathall, 265-284. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1872. “Letter 40: To Friedrich Ritschl.” In Selected Letters of Friedrich Nietzsche. Edited & translated by Christopher Middleton, 93. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1969.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. ca.1873. Philosophy in the Tragic Age of the Greeks / Die Philosophie im tragischen Zeitalter der Griechen. Translated by Marianne Cowan. Washington, DC: Regnery Publishing Co., 1962.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1874. The Birth of Tragedy Out of the Spirit of Music / Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik, 2nd edn. In The Birth of Tragedy and The Case of Wagner. Translated by Walter Kaufman, 29-144. New York: Vintage Books, 1967.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1886. “Attempt at a Self-Criticism” / “Versuch einer Selbstkritik.” In The Birth of Tragedy and The Case of Wagner. Translated by Walter Kaufman, 17-27. New York: Vintage Books, 1967.

Pagani, Lara. 2011. “Pioneers of Grammar: Hellenistic Scholarship and the Study of Language.” In From Scholars to Scholia: Chapters in the History of Ancient Greek Scholarship. Edited by Franco Montanari & Lara Pagani, 17-64. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.

Platon. ca. 375 B.C. Politeia. Edited by Giovanni Ferrari; translated by Tom Griffith, The Republic. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003.

Taylor, Charles. 1992. “Heidegger on Language.” In A Companion to Heidegger. Edited by Hubert Dreyfus & Mark Wrathall, 433-455. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.

Taylor, Daniel. 1990. “Dionysus Thrax Vs Marcus Varro,” Historiographia Linguistica 17(1-2): 15-27.

 

Guido Cusinato: Periagoge. Theory of Singularity and Philosophy as an Exercise of Transformation

Periagoge. Theory of Singularity and Philosophy as an Exercise of Transformation Book Cover Periagoge. Theory of Singularity and Philosophy as an Exercise of Transformation
Philosophy as a Way of Life, Volume: 4
Guido Cusinato. Translators: Rie Shibuya and Karen Whittle
Brill
2023
Hardback

Reviewed by: Emilia Barile (Università di Bologna - Dipartimento delle ARTI)

Used by Plato in the cave myth of Politeia, the term periagoge (from which this book takes its title) corresponds to the moment the prisoner ‘turns’ his neck. In diverting the gaze away from the used world, periagoge signifies a total ‘conversion’ of the freed prisoner to an entirely new perspective on reality. The subtitle, Theory of Singularity and Philosophy as an Exercise of Transformation, clarifies how this happens, and its consequences for the constitution of the human being. In human existence, this ‘turn’ often occurs by means of the experiences of crisis and fall, thanks to which the human singularity assumes its unique form. However, this does not happen in isolation but with others, through practices of emotional sharing, particularly in relationships of care. This second moment becomes explicit thanks to the force of exemplarity.

Based on a first Italian edition[1], the book is almost entirely new, encompassing four main focus areas: 1. The ontology of singularity and its arising in human beings; 2. the constitutive function of emotion and feeling in this process; 3. the key role of philosophy (understood as an exercise of transformation) for the meaning of existence; 4. a final proposal for building up a new axis of social  transformation.

A peculiarity of this volume is the constitutive role of images, with the help of which it has been grown: Starting with the iconic prisoner of the Platonic cave, other meaningful images surround Cusinato’s philosophical analysis. The second image is The Wave by the painter Hokusai: The typical curving of the crest of the wave at the center of this image, breaking the equilibrium, represents the process through which the human singularity assumes form in the experience of crisis and fall of one’s own certainties. Furthermore, two different depictions of the Annunciation (Botticelli’s and Titian’s) are shown: The anthropogenic process of formation does not stop after the impact of crisis or fall, but proceeds further. Concerning this second moment – which becomes explicit thanks to the force of exemplarity – relationships of caring for others and practices of emotional sharing are particularly crucial, thus involving the social feature.

The originality of this work mainly consists in rethinking the traditional question of the meaning of human existence, and in particular the conditions that are needed for it to arise, as a task that is closely interwoven with the anthropogenic process of formation.

 

Over more than 300 pages, Cusinato scrutinizes a number of different topics, as organized in the original structure of the book. Most of them remain pertinent in the contemporary philosophical debate: Self/person distinction, emotion/feeling relationship, social transformation in the era of narcissism and of ‘liquid society’, etc. Nevertheless, the author accepts some terms in a peculiar (and, sometimes, even idiosyncratic) way, so that sometimes it can be difficult to compare his own understanding with other approaches to the same topics (see, for ex., ‘self’, ‘person’, ‘feeling’, etc.). As such, the glossary introducing the volume turns out to be very useful. In the following, I will propose an analysis of some of the most interesting but also controversial terms.

 

The first of these is ‘person’ or ‘personality’, which is already much disputed. We mainly take ‘person’ for granted, understood as a very intuitively grasped concept: However, as soon as we address it more analytically, it suddenly turns out to be much more difficult to describe. As in Augustinus’s discussion on ‘time’[2], we know what it is only until we are asked for a definition. Beyond the approaches emphasizing the social role as an interchangeable ‘mask’[3], we usually consider personal ‘identity’ – understood as having moral as well as legal responsibility – as also exemplifying the definition of ‘self’ or consciousness.

Nevertheless, in order to indicate this concept of the ‘person’ that is acknowledged «as the self-referential subject that says ‘I’» (p. 3), Cusinato links it to what he calls the «little self»[4] (also identifying the dominant culture of narcissism as based on the very lack of distinction between ‘person’ and the ‘little self’). More precisely, personal «singularity» (as he defines it, rather than personal ‘identity’) is understood as the «result of a process of transcending one’s own little self» (p. 4). Under the impact of a crisis, the past horizons of the ‘little self’ turn out to be unable to give a form to her own new existence: So, she searches for further growth in the encounter with the other. Nevertheless, this ‘self-transcendence’ – which is intended as an immanent process, as part of the world – is a transcendence of the ‘little self’, and should not be confused with the existence of an otherworldly dimension (p. 6).

This definition, however, sounds somewhat puzzling for the reader used to the still ongoing debate about ‘self’ and ‘I’. First, in order to discriminate amongst the different levels at which we can deal with ‘subjectivity’, however understood, some approaches prefer to adopt the impersonal term ‘self’ rather than the personal ‘I’. Additionally, in the time sequence of biological evolution, personal identity is neither the principal nor the first organizational level, either phylogenetically and ontogenetically. Neurobiologically, this level corresponds to the so-called «autobiographical self»[5]: Its functioning requires a capacity for memory, for projecting into the future and into the past, starting from the present, within a social and linguistic context. Biologically understood, the autobiographical self can thus be identified with the reflective self that says ‘I’: This level is typically human and requires a language and the exercise of memory in order to be remembered. It is also the only level so far able to ‘witness’ the neural processes themselves, since it is endowed with self-reference, the ability to think about itself  thematically. At a complexity level immediately below sits the so-called «core consciousness», or «core self», the preverbal core: Its neural basis is in the subcortical nuclei of the thalamus, and it is neurally configured as a transient coherent construction of a pattern, formed following the onset of any relationship between the body and an object/event of the world[6]. The so-called «proto-self», meanwhile, is the structure at the deepest level of stratification, at the base of all subsequent constructions. Forerunner of all the higher organizational layers of complexity, both phylogenetically and ontogenetically, «the proto-self is the steppingstone required for the construction of the core self. It is an integrated collection of separate neural patterns mapping, moment by moment, the most stable aspects of the organism’s physical structure»[7]. Much deeper — in the footsteps of the researches of the last 25 years, collected by Tsakiris and De Preester[8] — the physiological underpinnings of subjectivity can be recognized at the physiological level of the interoception proper, as distinguished from proprioception[9], into which it is usually assimilated.

On the other hand, philosophy (mainly phenomenology) also seems to accept this ‘nesting principle’ structuring the different layers of ‘self’. Several phenomenologists nowadays understand subjectivity as based on ‘bodily self’ as its core dimension, and, eventually, on the «minimal self» hypothesis[10]. The perception of the body involved is the qualitatively distinctive experience of the body from inside, the ‘lived’ body [Leib] or the body-subject[11]. In between phenomenology and psychiatry, Fuchs has recently offered a detailed definition and taxonomy of self-experience as relevant for therapy of mental illnesses such as schizophrenia, depression or borderline personality disorder (BDP). In James’s footsteps, Fuchs acknowledges ‘self’ as a «process» rather than a «mere construct or model concept»[12]. In opposition to Metzinger[13], he maintains that «selfhood is not a construct, but our fundamental reality»[14], whose disruption has pathological effects. Even if recognizing that we have still no shared definition of ‘self’ and that it is a difficult concept to grasp, he defines it, very broadly, as «a pole of experience contained in every experience, which centers the field of consciousness on a subject and establishes the unity of experience over time»[15]. The term ‘ego’ or ‘I’, which is traditionally used, thus has to be replaced by the narrower, lower and grounding dimension of ‘self’, that is bodily, unconscious and earlier developed in childhood. «The ego could therefore also be described as ‘the reflective self’»[16].

Following Gallagher’s ‘pattern theory’[17], Fuchs acknowledges ‘self’ as a ‘pattern concept’, grasping a multidimensional process developing at several levels in different periods of life. In a nutshell, Fuchs’s model recognizes two main levels of self-experience, i.e., the so-called «basal self» (basal, vital bodily, affective, social self, also acknowledged by Damasio[18], Gallagher[19], Zahavi[20], Rochat[21]) — which is primary, pre-reflective and always present at further levels – and the so-called «extended self», which is reflexive, narrative, existential and personal proper. These two main layers can be further distinguished in other sublayers: The basal self comprises the physical self, the ecological self, the primary social self; on its side, the extended, personal self includes the reflective self, the narrative self, the existential self[22]. When pathologically affected, different layers of self imply different therapeutic approaches as more appropriate. That’s why a working definition of ‘self’ is not only a sophisticated theoretical need, but, much more, a strong clinical urge.

Having said that, however, it is quite difficult to identify which of these understandings of ‘self’ or ‘person’ are shared by Cusinato in his book.  Up to now the «little self» he deals with seems to be identified neither to any ‘minimal self’ nor to the personal self-referential subject sic et simpliciter. Going beyond the so-called myth of personal identity (marked by ‘continuity’, howsoever understood), the author makes his proposal compatible with a radical Humean perspective. He rather interprets «singularity» as self-transcendence and incompleteness of the starting condition of the so-called ‘little self’. Even if associating it with the personal level, which is understood «as the self-referential subject that says ‘I’» (p. 3), I would say that the author idiosyncratically uses the term (little) ‘self’, which is instead mainly adopted as an impersonal item in literature.

Cusinato further deepens the difference between the concept of individuality and identity and the peculiar singularity of human existence. This singularity listens to the voice of the daimonion of its own individual vocation, independent of biological and environmental factors. His definition is thus intended to leave behind the immunitarian, self-referential and the substantial and confessional conceptions of person. Reborn in the space offered by an exemplarity, once her own ‘little self’ has been transcended in taking care of the other, she herself becomes a space to be offered for the growth of the other. Distancing himself once again from the usual meaning of words, the author understands ‘exemplarity’ as the providing of a concrete testimony to the successfulness of an expressive pathway of self-transcendence and detachment from the ‘little self’ (an exemplarity can be a teacher like Socrates, a testimony to the successfulness of an act of self-transcendence out of the ‘little self’). Since the personal singularity assumes form in detachment from the ‘little self’, it is a ‘non-self’, in the literal sense of the term. To be more precise, it is a «personal non-self» (p. 46). The process of transformation [Umbildung] Cusinato describes is intended as a «transformation», understood as a discontinuous and irreversible process thanks to which an  organic, social, or personal system creates a new equilibrium, giving a form to a being that is born without existential form. Anthropogenesis is thus understood as the process of formation that characterizes human beings, through practices of emotional sharing.

 

Connected to personal ‘singularity’ is the constitutive emotional aspect, which is another key insight of the book. ‘Self’, ‘person’, ‘emotion’, ‘feeling’ turn out to be closely intertwined: Along with the recognition of the fundamental role of affectivity, Cusinato outlines the importance of emotional sharing practices, particularly care and desire, in the process of anthropogenesis described. Amongst affective states, feeling is particularly significant: However, this term too is adopted in a very peculiar sense.  Especially (but not only) in psychology, ‘feeling’ is mainly understood as the subjective component of emotions (emotion as it is ‘felt’), as distinct from the so-called ‘public’ dimension of emotion, i.e., posture, mime, facial expressions and behaviour. Although functionalist approaches à la Frijda[23], for ex., recognize ‘feeling’ as a mere epiphenomenon, the private dimension of an emotion can hardly be eliminated in the analysis as easily as the author suggests.

Cusinato understands ‘feeling’ not as referring to a subjective activity that remains confined to the psychological or mental level, but, more broadly, to «the ability of a living being to interact with the expressive level in such a way as to remain connected with the life of the biosphere» (p. 8). Along an enactive view[24], living and feeling imply each other: A similar perspective is also supported by Fuchs, outlining the very continuity – i. e., not identity (in Lewis’s[25] understanding) – between the organic ground of life [Leben] and the phenomenal level of experience [Erleben], as not just etymologically grounded. In his view, this continuity lies in the very double-faced description of the body as Körper and as Leib[26]. Furthermore, the most recent enactivist approaches, focussing on the affective dimension[27], endorse an integrated approach to the organic ground of ‘aliveness’ and the phenomenal level of ‘experience’ right from the start[28]. The reason for these multiple views lies in the fact that feeling too is a poorly defined concept: Yet despite this, psychologists, neurobiologists, philosophers etc. make broad use of it, in the most widely varying ways. As a result, they often use the same term to refer to very different phenomena. That’s also why the glossary proposed by Cusinato at the very beginning of the book turns out to be very useful, as well as stating explicitly in which sense the term is understood in the context analysed.

In my view, if we wish to work out a shared definition of ‘feeling’, we must not consider ‘feeling’ as related to emotions only. Emotion, in fact, is just one of the possible ‘felt’ states: Probably, not even the most interesting one. ‘Feelings’ are connected not only to emotions, but also needs[29], motivations, desires, etc.: All of these states include a hedonic component (at different levels of complexity) and feedback from the perception of the overall condition of the body. Moreover, the debate[30] on the definition and the classification of emotions seems to have arrived at a theoretical impasse: There are still no unified and shared taxonomies of emotions[31]. We go around in circles: Defining an emotion in a specific way implies a certain kind of classification following, and vice versa. In summary, the different theoretical views can be grouped as: Neuroscientific approaches[32], emphasizing the role of the physiological reactions (in the footsteps of the James-Lange theory[33]), and logocentric views[34], underlying the role of the cognitive evaluation (considered as primitive and antecedent to the physiological reactions). However, the emotion/cognition relationship is much more blurred than it is simplistically supposed to be: Even the most orthodox cognitivist views nowadays have to admit that emotions cannot be just ‘ignored’ or reduced to cognitive states.

Considering ‘feeling’ as mainly associated with ‘emotion’ probably derives from a typical overlapping in the English language, which often employs the terms ‘feeling’ and ‘emotion’ as synonyms. In contrast, the Romance languages distinguish these terms in a more refined way: The Italian language, for example, differentiates the term ‘emotion’ [emozione] from ‘feeling’ [sentire, provare] and from ‘sentiment’ [sentimento]. Cusinato acknowledges this, underlining the same distinction made in the Italian language between feeling as a noun [sentiment] and feeling as a verb [sentire]. He also proposes adopting the nominalized infinitive ‘il sentire’ in translating ‘feeling’ as that state «through which a living being remains connected to the biosphere, to emotions» (p. 8). Nevertheless, as I have suggested elsewhere[35], we can understand ‘feeling’ as distinguished not only from ‘emotion’, but also from ‘sentiment’: The last is defined as a mental state proper, always aware, following an emotion, or, more precisely, a combination of emotions. A complex sentiment like ‘friendship’, for example, is not simply a consciously perceived emotion: It is a long-term state, involving a set of emotions[36]. That’s why I share Cusinato’s preference for the Italian translation of ‘sentire’ instead of ‘sentimento’ and I also accept the term ‘feeling’ to refer to the entire set of states that can be ‘felt’ (like emotions, but also ‘needs’, ‘drives’, ‘motives’ etc.).

 

Amongst the different layers of feelings, the author focuses in particular on a specific kind of feeling, i.e., the so-called ‘primordial feelings’. Cusinato writes: «(…) There are different levels of feeling: from primordial feeling, through which a living being remains connected to the biosphere, to emotions, which represent feeling that orients the movement of an animal organism endowed with a body schema, a social self, or a personal singularity» (p. 8). At the biosemiotic[37] level, he recognizes at least three ramifications of primordial feelings: The feeling of the living body, the feeling of the social self and the feeling of the personal singularity (p. 156). However, ‘primordial feeling’ is not a notion that can be taken for granted either: It is not at all a shared object in our conceptual armoire.

Amongst other scholars, particularly Damasio (and also Colombetti[38]) recognizes ‘primordial feelings’ in the taxonomies of affective states: Examples of these basic feelings are the feeling of ‘existence’, the feeling ‘of the body’ or the feeling ‘of life’, the feeling of ‘being alive’[39]. Over recent decades, Damasio’s conceptualizations have become very popular in the affective sciences community, including outside neuroscience. Philosophers such as Ratcliffe[40], Slaby and Stephan[41], Varga and Krueger[42], psychologists such as Stern[43] and also psychiatrists such as Fuchs[44] acknowledge his organic portrayal of feelings as the neurophysiological counterpart of their philosophical/psychological concepts. However, in my view Damasio’s conceptualizations have been often misinterpreted[45], especially in the equation of the affective layer of ‘primordial feelings’ and the previously recognized layer of «background feelings»[46], to which these scholars usually refer. Even if the relationship between background feelings and primordial feelings is intimate[47], these concepts cannot be simply equated. Background feelings – such as a (felt) ‘tension’ or a (felt) ‘edginess’ – are discrete feelings (i.e., different kinds of feelings, such as «edginess», «wellness», «malaise», etc.[48]), while «the feeling of being alive» or the «feeling of existence», classed among the so-called ‘primordial’ feelings, concern the overall feelings of the body[49]. Primordial feelings provide the overall ‘sense of the body’: They originate from a number of different sources, such as interoceptive and proprioceptive maps of the body as a whole.

Damasio recognizes that, in essence, his definition of ‘primordial feeling’ can be traced back to Panksepp, in particular to his notion of «early feelings»[50]: Both feelings share the characteristic of preceding any interaction with the world, or any feeling arising from the emotions. Nevertheless, there are also some differences: Panksepp relates the primary consciousness emerging from primordial feelings mainly to motor activities in structures of the brain stem, while Damasio emphasizes the role of sensory structures[51]. Moreover, concerning interaction with the world, Damasio is somewhat incoherent: He underlines that Panksepp’s views differs in that ‘early feeling’ appears to be necessarily related to external events in the world[52], while for Damasio, in theory, primordial feelings occur «regardless of whether the protoself is engaged by objects and events external to the brain. They need to be related to the living body and nothing else»[53]. Later on, in the same book, he maintains that «Panksepp also gives emphasis to the notion of early feelings, without which the process of consciousness cannot proceed. The detailed mechanism is not the same, but I believe the essence of the idea is. More often than not, treatments of feeling assume that they arise from interactions with the world […] or as a result of emotions. But primordial feelings precede those situations, and presumably Panksepp’s early feelings do too»[54].

This point is also controversial in Cusinato’s understanding of primordial feelings as the feelings «through which a living being remains connected to the biosphere» (p. 8), thus revealing an intrinsic relationship to the world that is in line with other phenomenological views (cfr. Ratcliffe’s «feeling of being» — i.e., the feeling of being-in-the-world[55]). Moreover, he defines ‘primordial feeling’ enactively, recognizing it in every living being: «Sunflowers feel light at the level of primordial feeling and so follow the movement of the sun. This is a process of expressive positioning» (p. 129).

In contrast, Damasio’s primordial ‘feeling of life’ (understood as the feeling ‘of the body’) turns out to be a feeling ‘of the body’ from ‘inside’[56], so to speak, and not the feeling of the body as ‘being-in-the-world’. This does not mean that the body is not in the world: It cannot exist in isolation, of course. In my view, Damasio’s view does not presuppose a different ontology: He just focusses on the body rather than the intentional relationship with the world, as in standard intentional feelings, from which the primordial feelings such as the feeling of being alive differs[57]. According to him, the ‘feeling of being alive’ (and the other primordial feelings to which it belongs) is independent of any connection to any object in the world. This, I believe, is explicitly clarified in the following: «There is some deeper feeling to be guessed and then found in the depths of the conscious mind. It is the feeling that my own body exists, and it is present, independently of any object with which it interacts, as a rock-solid, wordless affirmation that I am alive»[58]. Damasio’s primordial feelings entail a relationship to the body, as a whole[59], and not a relationship to the world, as a whole[60] – even if the body is in the world anyway, and does not exist in isolation. Moreover, concerning the questionable intentionality[61] of the feeling of being alive described as ‘the feeling of the body’ as a whole, some further explanations need to be added.

First, regarding the ‘independence’ of any connection to any object in the world[62]: Even if the interrelation provided cannot be a kind of standard intentional relationship from the body to the world, in my view there has to be something like a body-world interrelation that is not intentional. Otherwise, the question of how the body might be able to experience itself as a whole[63], without any contact with the world as a kind of ‘other’ or border of the organism, seems hard to explain[64].

Second: To be ‘objectless’ (that is, the main feature of ‘background’ states as background feelings, as well as primordial feelings) does not mean not being-in-the-world. In my view, it is rather a matter of ‘focus’. Damasio underlines that, while standard emotional-feelings focus on the specific/aspecific object of emotions rather than on the body, background feelings (such as «tension» or «surging») or the primordial feeling of being alive, for instance, reveal an intrinsic relationship to our own body as a whole – so, coming into the foreground. In contrast, in feelings connected to emotions or other more cognitively structured states, the body always stands ‘in the background´, unattended.

In contrast to this view, and adhering to Scheler’s Gefühlsdrang[65], Cusinato defines ‘primordial feelings’ as «the most elementary way in which the organism interacts with the expressive level thanks to the laws of biosemiotics» (p. 113, my emphasis [NoA]).

 

In sum: The first part of Cusinato’s book offers a new ontology of personal singularity as a result of the anthropogenic process. Seeking to separate the problem of ‘singularity’ from that of personal ‘identity’ (marked by continuity, howsoever understood), the author goes beyond the ‘myth’ of personal identity and interprets singularity as self-transcendence and incompleteness of the starting condition of the so-called ‘little self’. This process of antrophogenesis comprises practices of emotional sharing (particularly, care and desire): The book thus highlights the interconnection between the antrophogenic process and the affective dimension (emotions, feelings, and the ‘phatic’). Cusinato supports the hypothesis that emotions and especially feelings (and their particular order) guide the expressive process by which our existence assumes form in the world through society, culture, and language.

The second part of the book assumes philosophy as an exercise of transformation. This periagogic turn is conceived as the starting point for the arising of personal singularity. The periagogic conversion – changing the order of priorities and allowing an entirely new perspective on reality, beyond common sense and common feeling – coincides with a philosophy understood as an exercise of transformation. However, there is a difference between the transformation concerning the ‘little self’ or the singularity. In the case of the ‘little self’, the transformation implies a process of pain and suffering: The earthquake fault is experienced only as crisis, severance, separation. In contrast, for the singularity, transformation can additionally involve very intense positive emotions, since it does not necessarily coincide with suffering or pain, but it also includes a kind of ‘rebirth’. The cultivation of emotions as desire represents a way of transformation of human beings that is primarily based on the plasticity of feeling.

In this process, philosophy plays a key role. Since human existence has no pre-stated meaning, but only possibilities of meaning, human beings need to do philosophy: They lack a pre-determined existential form. Since this process is connected to emotions and feelings as its drivers, identifying the most effective techniques for promoting a maturation of all affective layers should be placed today at the center of philosophy. Once reawakened, the new order of feelings themselves will produce orientation and a horizon of meaning, thanks to practices of emotional sharing and the force of exemplarity

This is significant not just at an individual level, but also at a social level: The last section of the book is devoted to this aspect. Starting from an analysis of the failure of social transformation in the era of narcissism, Cusinato ultimately proposes a new axis of social transformation, based on a reorientation of emotions in the public sphere.

 




[1] Guido Cusinato, Periagoge. Teoria della singolarità e filosofia come cura del desiderio (Verona: QuiEdit snc di Fill & C., 2014).

[2] Augustinus, Confessiones [400].

[3] Carl G. Jung, “Two Essays on Analytical Psychology”, in The collected Works of C.G. Jung, vol. VII (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1972), 264.

[4] My emphasis [NoA].

[5] Antonio R. Damasio, Self Comes to Mind. Constructing the Conscious Brain (New York: Pantheon Books, 2010).

[6] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 22 – 23.

[7] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 190.

[8] Manos Tsakiris & Helena De Presteer, The Interoceptive Mind. From homeostasis to awareness (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019).

[9] Charles S. Sherrington, “On the proprioceptive system, especially in its reflex aspect”, Brain 29, 4 (1907): 467-482.

[10] Dan Zahavi, Subjectivity and selfhood: Investigating the first-person perspective (Boston: MIT Press, 2005).

[11] Edmund Husserl, Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie II: Phänomenologische Untersuchungen zur Konstitution (Nijhoff: Den Haag, 1952); Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phénoménologie de la Perception (Paris: Gallimard, 1945).

[12] Thiemo Breyer and Thomas Fuchs, eds., Selbst und Selbststörungen (Freiburg:  Alber, 2020), 34.

[13] Thomas Metzinger, “Precis: Being No-One”, PSYCHE: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Research On Consciousness 11 (2005): 1—30.

[14] Breyer and Fuchs, eds., Selbst und Selbststörungen, 34.

[15] Breyer and Fuchs, eds., Selbst und Selbststörungen, 31.

[16] Breyer and Fuchs, eds., Selbst und Selbststörungen, 33.

[17] Shaun Gallagher, “A Pattern Theory of Self”, Frontiers in Human Neuroscience 7 (2013). DOI: 10.3389/fnhum.2013.00443.

[18] Antonio R. Damasio, The Feeling of What Happens: Body and emotion in the making of consciousness (Harvest edition, 1999).

[19] Shaun Gallagher, “Philosophical conceptions of the self: implications for cognitive science”, Trends in Cognitive Sciences 4, 1 (2000): 14 – 21.

[20] Dan Zahavi, Self-awareness and alterity: A phenomenological investigation (Northwestern University Press, 1999).

[21] Paul Rochat, “The emergence of self-awareness as co-awareness in early child development”, in The Structure and Development of Self-Consciousness, Zahavi, Parnas, Gruenbaum, eds. (Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2004).

[22] Breyer and Fuchs, eds., Selbst und Selbststörungen.

[23] Nico H. Frijda, The Emotions (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986).

[24] Francisco J. Varela, “Organism: A meshwork of selfless selves”, in Organism and the Origin of Self, ed. A. Tauber (Kluwer, 1991): 77–107.

[25] David K. Lewis, “An Argument for the Identity Theory”, The Journal of Philosophy 63, 1 (1966): 17-25.

[26] Thomas Fuchs, “The feeling of being alive”, in Feelings of Being Alive, eds. Marienberg & Fingerhut (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012): 149.

[27] Durt, Fuchs, Tewes, eds., Embodiment, Enaction, and Culture: Investigating the Constitution of the shared World (Cambridge (MA): MIT Press, 2017); Giovanna Colombetti, The Feeling Body: Affective Science Meets the Enactive Mind (Cambridge (MA): MIT Press, 2014).

[28] Evan Thompson, Mind in Life: Biology, phenomenology, and the sciences of mind (Cambridge (MA): Harvard University Press, 2007).

[29] Cristiano Castelfranchi, “Affective Appraisal versus Cognitive Evaluation in Social Emotions and Interactions”, Affective Interactions. IWAI 1999. Lecture Notes in Computer Science, ed. A. Paiva (Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer, 2000), vol. 1814. https://doi.org/10.1007/10720296_7.

[30] Anthony Hatzimoysis, ed., Philosophy and the Emotions (Cambridge University Press, 2003).

[31] Julien DeonnaFabrice Teroni, The Emotions: A philosophical introduction (London: Routledge, 2012). https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203721742.

[32] Jaak Panksepp. Affective Neuroscience: The foundation of human and animal emotions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998); Jacques E. LeDoux, The Emotional Brain: The mysterious underpinnings of emotional life (Simon and Schuster, 1998); Antonio R. Damasio, Descartes’ Error. Emotion, reason and the human brain (New York: Quill, 1994). 

[33] William James, “What Is an Emotion?”, Mind 9 (1884): 188-205. http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/mind/os-IX.34.188; Carl G. Lange, The Emotions (Baltimora: William & Wilkins, 1885). 

[34] Nico H. Frijda & Jaap Swagerman. “Can computers feel? Theory and design of an emotional system”. Cognition and Emotion 1, 3 (1987): 235-257; Ortony, Clore, and Collins, The Cognitive Structure of Emotions (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2022); Martha C. Nussbaum, Upheavals of Thought: The intelligence of emotions (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

[35] Emilia Barile, Minding Damasio (Roma: Ledizioni, 2016).

[36] Barile, ‘Dare corpo alla mente’. La relazione mente/corpo alla luce delle emozioni e dell’esperienza del ‘sentire’ (Milano: B. Mondadori, 2007).

[37] Guido Cusinato, Biosemiotica e psicopatologia dell’«ordo amoris». In dialogo con Max Scheler (Milano: FrancoAngeli, 2019).

[38] Colombetti, The Feeling Body.

[39] «I now introduce this fundamental feeling as a critical element of the ‘self’ process, which I had not deemed necessary to note in earlier approaches to this problem. I call it primordial feeling, and I note that it has a definite quality, a valence, somewhere along the pleasure-to-pain range. It is the primitive behind all feelings of emotion and therefore is the basis of all feelings caused by interactions between objects and organism» (Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 185).

[40] Matthew Ratcliffe, Feelings of Being: Phenomenology, psychiatry and the sense of reality (Oxford: Oxford University, 2008); Ratcliffe, “The phenomenology of existential feeling”, in Feelings of Being Alive, eds. S. Marienberg & J. Fingerhut (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012): 23–54.

[41] Jan Slaby & Achim Stephan, “Affective intentionality and self-consciousness”, Consciousness and Cognition 17 (2008): 506–513.

[42] Somogy Varga & Joel Krueger, “Background Emotions, Proximity and Distributed Emotion Regulation”, Rev. Phil. Psych. 4, (2013): 271-292.

[43] Daniel N. Stern, Forms of vitality (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).

[44] Fuchs, “The feeling of being alive”.

[45] Barile, “Are Background Feelings Intentional Feelings?”, Open Journal of Philosophy 4 (2014): 560-574.

[46] Antonio R. Damasio. Looking for Spinoza. Joy, sorrow, and the feeling brain (Harcourt, 2003); Damasio, The Feeling of What Happens.

[47] «Prominent background feelings include: fatigue; energy; excitement; wellness; sickness; tension; relaxation; surging; dragging; stability; balance; imbalance; harmony; discord. The relation between background feelings and moods is intimate: drives express themselves directly in background emotions and we eventually become aware of their existence by means of background feelings» (Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 125).

[48] Damasio, The Feeling of What Happens, 286.

[49] «There is some deeper feeling to be guessed and then found in the depths of the conscious mind. It is the feeling that my own body exists, and it is present, independently of any object with which it interacts, as a rock-solid, wordless affirmation that I am alive» (Damasio Self Comes to Mind, 22, 185) .

[50] Panksepp, Affective Neuroscience.

[51] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, ch. 1, note 17 (my emphases [NoA]).

[52] Barile, “The Interoceptive Underpinnings of the Feeling of Being Alive. Damasio’s insights at work”, Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences (2023). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11097-023-09900-7.

[53] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, ch. 1, note 17 (my emphases [NoA]).

[54] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, ch. 8, note 3 (my emphases [NoA]).

[55] Matthew Ratcliffe, “The Feeling of Being”, Journal of Consciousness Studies 12 (2005): 52.

[56] «Primordial feelings [to which the feeling of being alive belongs] result from nothing but the living body and precede any interaction between the machinery of life regulation and any object» (Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 101; my emphases [NoA]).

[57] Barile, “The Interoceptive Underpinnings of the Feeling of Being Alive. Damasio’s insights at work”.

[58] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 185 (my emphases [NoA]).

[59] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 76.

[60] Ratcliffe, “The Feeling of Being”, 52.

[61] In my view Damasio’s formulation of the deepest level of primordial feelings (2010) definitely endorses a nonintentional account of this kind of non-emotional feelings, at least in the standard meaning of intentionality. Following his latest analysis, both according to the meaning of «aboutness» and the meaning of «directedness» (in Goldie’s (2002) understanding), Damasio’s background feelings – and above all the primordial feelings on which they are based – turn out to be not intentional (see Barile, 2014).

[62] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 185.

[63] Damasio, Self Comes to Mind, 76.

[64] Barile, “The Interoceptive Underpinnings of the Feeling of Being Alive. Damasio’s insights at work”.

[65] «I have developed this concept while thinking of the one proposed by Scheler in 1926 by means of the term “primordial impulse of feeling” (Gefühlsdrang). Cf. GW VIII, 336; in GW VIII, 443, he also speaks of “exstatische[m] Gefühlsdrang”» (Cusinato, Periagoge, 113, note 6).

Hans Blumenberg: Die ontologische Distanz

Die ontologische Distanz: Eine Untersuchung zur Krisis der philosophischen Grundlagen der Neuzeit Book Cover Die ontologische Distanz: Eine Untersuchung zur Krisis der philosophischen Grundlagen der Neuzeit
Hans Blumenberg. Edited by Nicola Zambon
Suhrkamp
2022
Hardback
378

Reviewed by: Pierre-Adrien Marciset,

The historicity of consciousness and the horizon of its thought

 

“His habilitation thesis is undoubtedly a step that sheds light on Blumenberg’s career…” Helmut Mayer, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung

 “He was [after all] the exemplary ascetic who had earned his lion. Working night after night, Blumenberg told himself proudly, the thanks had now come in the form of the lion.” Sibylle Lewitscharoff, Blumenberg (2011, Seagull Press 2017, for the English edition, p. 6)

I thank warmly Robert Savage for his helpful comments on an earlier draft of this review, without which the review would not have reached such a degree of precision and clarity.

 

“Enjoy only with caution”

 

Hans Blumenberg (born July 13, 1920 and died March 28, 1996) could, despite everything, still be considered an “invisible” philosopher today, justifying the adjective with which Christoph Rüter’s documentary film refers to him (Hans Blumenberg – Der unsichtbare Philosoph, 2018). The German philosopher did not give interviews and did not allow himself to be photographed, nourishing, according to his current detractors, a certain staging of the reception of his texts, in particular those that are still inaccessible and have long remained so even for the German-speaking readership. This posthumously edited version of Die ontologische Distanz is the text edited by Nicola Zambon that Blumenberg presented in 1950 for his Habilitation thesis, accompanied by an “appendix” (“Anhang“, attachment) of the earlier versions, i.e. the one he proposed in 1949, immediately after his doctoral thesis, defended in 1948.

            This text belongs to the beginnings of Blumenberg’s production, corresponding to an important stage, in my opinion, in the anthropological practice of phenomenology – I will return to this. This anteriority, in relation to the works written later and which had a significant impact, could push potential readers to consider it as “outdated” insofar as it would be a “scaffolding”, a stage in the path of Blumenberg’s thought which could, in hindsight, be considered negligible. This is the premise often accepted by current research on Blumenberg. Indeed, since on the one hand Blumenberg himself did not authorize the publication (he wrote that he left it to his heirs to do what they wanted with it, decorating the manuscript with a drawing of a bottle of poiso labelled “enjoy only with caution”), and since on the other hand Blumenberg would go beyond some of the ideas proposed in Die ontologische Distanz while not following up on others, it would perhaps be fraudulent, from the point of view of the coherence of the philosopher’s thought, to resort to the elements of this text and perhaps even to speak of it.

            The German edition of Die ontologische Distanz nevertheless responds to certain works of contemporary phenomenology, such as the reflections of the French phenomenologist Renaud Barbaras (Introduction à une phénoménique de la vie, Vrin, 2012, for example) who poses in particular the need to return to the idea of ​​the correlational a priori raised in Ideas’s §49, according to which “between consciousness and reality there is a real abyss of meaning” (Hua III/1, § 49), on which Blumenberg comes frontally in Part. II, §3, notably pp. 73-75. This is how Blumenberg tackled the problem of what separates philosophizing from life, and the question of the possibility of existence in the subjectivity of successive beings.

            Certainly, I find in Die ontologische Distanz the first stirrings rather than the foundations of notions that I will see better and more extensively defended elsewhere in Blumenberg’s work – for example what will become the critique of the acme of history in theology in The Legitimacy of the Modern Age, or again the critique of phenomenology that was deployed in several lost or transformed manuscripts, some sections of which ultimately constitute entire chapters of Beschreibung des Menschen. But I also find sketches which, even if better specified elsewhere, remain decisive from the point of view of the history of philosophy, and even from the point of view of the history of historical science, by shedding new light on the problems which he approached (this is the case for the whole question of the possibility of the self-assertion of reason, see second part, “§7 Die Selbstbehauptung der Vernunft for der Gewißheitsfrage”, pp. 113-126). To take yet another example, I find already in the defense version of Die ontologische Distanz the idea of ​​the “valences” of paradigmatic epochs which, from the idea of ​​a “morphology of ontological distance” become after 1961 the arguments of a “concept of reality” which he will study under various approaches, and on several occasions, under the first prism of a “consciousness of reality”. I’m thinking here of an article from 1964, “The Concept of Reality and the Possibility of the Novel” (in: History, Metaphors, Fables, A Hans Blumenberg Reader, « Signale », Cornell University Press, 2020 for the English edition).

            Blumenberg abandoned many of his book projects, quickly tiring of the considerations related to the publication of his works and perhaps preferring to devote himself to writing, thus accumulating manuscripts in the drawers of his archives. Given this inclination, leaving aside or devaluing manuscripts that were not carried through to publication does not seem necessarily essential to us. If the young Blumenberg (thirty years old in 1950) later presented in more accomplished forms what he wrote by trial and error, in the heat of research, this does not seem to us to justify the elimination or reduction of these ideas, whether we assume that he returned to them later with a more mature and firmer eye or, conversely, that he preferred not to exploit the valences thus opened but left them in a state of a suspension. The extreme vitality of these twenty-six paragraphs spread over four parts  warrants their being given serious consideration, even if this vitality certainly sometimes suffers from confusion, contradictions, unfulfilled promises (notably in the fourth part), or breaks in the rhythm and the demonstration. As the “Habilitation dispute” attests (see below), Blumenberg perhaps also suffered from not having yet managed to find his own voice, sometimes ventriloquizing Heidegger at the same time as confronting him.

            I am convinced that if Blumenberg had wanted to simply to disown the work he had begun in the manuscript of Die ontologische Distanz, then he would not have isolated his text and allowed it to join his archives; to those who would justify this by sentimentality, I should defend myself by showing that some of Blumenberg’s great ideas are already, confusedly or not, expressed in this manuscript. Reading this text today perhaps allows us to understand the lineaments of a thought which was already emerging itself in his doctoral thesis (Hans Blumenberg, Beiträge zum Problem der Ursprünglichkeit der mittelalterlich-scholastischen Ontologie, Frankfurt, Verlag Suhrkamp, ​​2020). It therefore makes sense to approach this text today “with caution”, keeping in mind this reserve, that of the reasonable prudence that Blumenberg maintained with regard to the treatment of this text and which resisted until the end, both in the mind of its author and in the letter of his work. One of the major terms of the whole philosophy of Hans Blumenberg could well be that of the “horizon” – historical, of meaning, phenomenological, of consciousness, cultural, technical, etc. In this respect, Die ontologische Distanz could well be the “horizon” that forms both the starting point and the perspective of Hans Blumenberg’s philosophy.

 

            The rigor of Die ontologische Distanz

 

The publication of Die ontologische Distanz: Eine Untersuchung zur Krisis der philosophischen Grundlagen der Neuzeit in 2022 seems to us to be decisive for understanding the substance of Blumenberg’s overall work. It is also an opportunity for us to expose the homogeneity of a work always already contained in embryo in the Habilitation. To try to bring it together in a formula, this text deals with the phenomenological connection of the subject to the world through the structure of performance that is consciousness – consciousness of something, in accordance with Husserl’s identification of the connection of consciousness to the world. All of Blumenberg’s intellectual singularity is announced from this formidable ambition of the Habilitation.

            Hans Blumenberg’s first project aimed at nothing less than the restitution of philosophical “rigor” and anticipates the aims of his entire philosophy. Thanks to this first text, practically “genetic”, arriving immediately after his thesis on medieval ontology, the tools are now assembled that allow us to consider the system as a whole, by demonstrating the rigor of its logic, its outcomes and the necessity that presides over all the ramifications that were sometimes considered to have been scattered and disordered. However, it is possible today to discern the centers of gravity of this work. Jürgen Goldstein already named some of them in 2020, to which I can now add others thanks to the posthumous publications that have taken place since: “The central aspects of his philosophy require presentation in their respective context: the self-preservation of reason, the absolutism of reality, the phenomenology of history, for example.” (Jürgen Goldstein, Hans Blumenberg, Ein philosophisches Portrait, Berlin, Matthes & Seitz Berlin, 2020, p. 11) I would add: genetic phenomenology; that is to say ontology and its conditions of possibility, the reflection on being in the wake of Aristotle as it was first pursued by Husserl, then defended by Blumenberg in Husserl against Heidegger while nevertheless integrating certain Heideggerian notions – without forgetting Landgrebe, whose Phänomenologie und Metaphysik (1949) is an essential text for Blumenberg — and especially for the Blumenber of the Habilitation thesis.

            The German term Strenge, rigor, is the keystone of one of the three versions of the subtitle of the Habilitation, as Nicola Zambon testifies on the first page of the afterword (Nicola Zambon, “Nachwort des Herausgebers”, p. 349). The central question of philosophical “rigor” is grasped by Blumenberg as having been the point on which the Cartesian project stumbled, justifying Husserl’s resumption of that project (see on this subject the introduction to Paradigms for a Metaphorology which opens precisely with the recognition of this unresolved debt in the history of philosophy), and the failure, in Husserl’s own eyes, of what he concentrates in the formula of the “universality of the coincidence of language and thought” (Husserl, Formal Logic and Transcendental Logic, Halle, 1929, p. 22, here expanding the Husserlian idea of ​​§49 of the Ideas). This is how Blumenberg justifies in his introduction the perspective of this “investigation” that he is conducting on this subject, in his Habilitation thesis:

 

This breakthrough through traditional ontology does not take place in the claim of methodological freedom, in the name of a new attitude towards thought. Rather, it can be characterized as the persistence of a historical situation until it is interpreted. This situation represents the critical turning point that the understanding of being in modern times has taken as a whole. The turning point is succinctly marked by the crisis of Edmund Husserl’s phenomenology, from which Martin Heidegger’s thought emerges. The presentation, classification and interpretation of this crisis constitute the main theme of the investigation. (Blumenberg, p. 11, which he extended p. 51 in the problematization of the historical context of the performance of intentionality)

 

Therefore, the gesture of the Habilitation proposed to restore through the “rigor” of the homogeneity of phenomenology, thanks to which the crisis irremediably separating the subject from the world of objects would be resolved. It is with the study of the conditions of mediation of the distance of this separation, as a source of ontogenesis, that the Habilitation is concerned; that is to say, Die ontologische Distanz aims to explain what is expressed in the phenomenon of ontological distance, but also to describe the mode of this expression.

            I will therefore discuss this work as if I was progressing on the cartography of the future complete philosophical work, naming different points of his radiancy’s philosophic activity, in order to underline its dynamic arcs (the famous “metakinetics of being” thanks to the work of which “the realities in which we live replace being“, Zambon, p. 372) and show their radiation from the focus that would have been Die ontologische Distanz. What could be considered as the problem of the distance of the subject from the world would be what would stand between the conscious activity of the interiority of the subject on the one hand and its consciousness of the world on the other, the latter understood here in the sense of the subject’s “consciousness cast” on the world. It seems to us that this denomination of “ontological distance” designates, simultaneously with this first problem, the ontological activity required by the need to connect with the world, which is active in and made active by the subject.

            For Blumenberg, and this is yet another justification of the relationship by “radiation” and “concretions” that I was talking about, the entire history of the world of thought is a succession of manifestations of this “metakinetics of thought as a whole” (Blumenberg, p. 18) that springs from an internal and fundamental encounter between two regimes of the activity of the mind. Later, after the publication of his book on metaphorology in 1960, Blumenberg would be more radical and would integrate into the Husserlian concept of the lifeworld the importance of the role of aesthetics in ontogenetic activity, through a “return” to the contributions of Ernst Cassirer. Thus when the support of ontogenetic certainty of the paradigmatic era wavers, the ontological distance comes into action:

 

Aristotelian scholasticism arises from the need for a scientific theology in an intellectual environment that wants to be convinced. It is an articulation of ontological distance that is no longer understood only in terms of possibility, but has its own objective horizon, in which there is a search and a doubt, a discussion of positions, an affection and a rejection. (Blumenberg, pp. 104-105)

 

Here, at the heart of the exercise of ontological distance, the reader can already grasp the terminology that would not be fully deployed until about ten years later. We also see the spirit, but also the letter, of a paradigm shift that is systematically identified in The Genesis of the Copernican World (1975, 1987, MIT Press for the English edition), but also in the first edition of the book published in 1966, The Legitimacy of the Modern Age (3rd ed. 1997, 1985, MIT Press for the English edition). All this contributes to a demonstrable homogeneity.

 

As a metakinesis of historical horizons — and in anticipation of the dynamics of repositioning that Blumenberg introduces in Die Legitimität der Neuzeit and that will be refined in the Die Genesis der kopernikanischen Welt — it is appropriate to examine why distance has taken the forms that it has. The analysis amounts to affirming that the Cartesian configuration of distance — the contraposition between subject and object — is a historical form, which means at the same time that it is only a historical form (among many others possible). The historical modes of distance were possibilities, they were neither destiny nor chance, but: contingency. The crisis of modern times was therefore not a necessity. The Cartesian understanding of the subject and the object that gave rise to the crisis was not inevitable, nor natural, but was in turn a contingent historical constellation whose evidence must be questioned in order to find a way out of the diagnosed epochal impasse. (Zambon, p. 355)

 

Zambon seems to support here this idea of ​​a shift from the “history of being” to what I could establish as a “history of the paradigmatics of being” that would ultimately be consummated. However, writing it this way would run the risk of mixing up what is announced by the Habilitation and what would only be methodically materialized later on. However, it should not be overlooked that the Habilitation is a work of a man in his late twenties, and as such contains the entire extremely rich intuitive arsenal of intuitions that he would spend the next forty years developing. It seems to us that, beyond the effective radicalization of his break with Heidegger, Blumenberg never changed his trajectory, even assimilating Heidegger over time.

            Hans Blumenberg constructed his entire work in perfect metaphorological adequacy with what he wanted to demonstrate (Goldstein, 2020, p. 28), always illustrating the object in the theorization of a demonstration which is homogeneous with the other perspectives of its theory. But this is not so much an irony, or a paradox, as the very mode of synthetic understanding by which we must always read Blumenberg if we want to understand him: we must read by accepting that erudition, and education with it, is a horizon, and not an arsenal (or not only).

            The content (the product) and the container (the production space, the work space, Arbeit) of his system overlap and coincide. Another of Blumenberg’s monumental works, Work on Myth (1979, 1985, MIT Press for the English edition), follows an identical pattern: it is a work on myth as what is on the author’s loom, but at the same time it is a study of the ways of working on myth, of the conditions of possibility and necessity of its production. The work of Die ontologische Distanz now available is the focus from which the other works can be understood as the materializations (Blumenberg uses the metaphor of “onion skins” in Die nackte Wahrheit, 2020) of the formal conditions of which Die ontologische Distanz was or would have been the archistructure and the turn from which Blumenberg rose to another dimension of philosophy. In other words, the Habilitation seems to us to have been the germ of a decisive stage in the genesis of the progression of what, thanks to it, we understand today as the crisis of the subject. In the same way, for the subject, the internal formal phenomenon of ontological distance is the focus from which the other aspects of its capacity to be a subject can be understood and interpreted – I will return this again below.

 

            The ontological crisis as a sine qua non condition for the possibility of the subject’s cognition

 

Since Die ontologische Distanz, or soon after, Blumenberg’s philosophy can consider that the very notion of crisis is intrinsic to the subject. Just as truth is the metaphor of the infinite aim of knowledge by the human being, and not its essentialization, the crisis would thus be the phenomenological experience that is at the very foundation of the conditions of possibility of what, particularly since Freud, is covered by the terminology of the different states of consciousness. Die ontologische Distanz, as already written, announces in our sense that of which Paradigms for a Metaphorology (1960, 2010, Cornell University Press for the English edition) are the practical case and the illustration, if not even that of which they are the demonstration of the efficiency and the progress. The balance sheet of the internal crisis of any subject is both production and product of what is formally manifested in the two simultaneous regimes of the activity of the mind, and constitutes the plurality of the conditions of possibility of what is called the world of thought. These two regimes of the activity of the mind, conceptual and “nonconceptual”, are materialized in the thought of Hans Blumenberg in several works and in particular in his Theorie der Unbegrifflichkreit (Theorie der Unbegrifflichkreit, Aus dem Nachlaß herausgegeben und mit einem Nachwort von Anselm Haverkamp, Suhrkamp Verlag, 2007, 2019).

            What philosophical content does Die ontologische Distanz proposes? It already started from the principle of ambivalence, still foreign to Blumenberg in 1948: contrary to the idea of ​​a progression of history that would be linear and progressive, on the Hegelian model, and in which humanity would have passed, in the eyes of Cassirer for example, from the age of substance to that of the understanding of function, it is for Blumenberg two simultaneous aptitudes that are both expressed in the regimes of the activity of the mind and that the need of each era pushes the subject to invest or not according to the paradigmatic prevalence. From this perspective, substance and function correspond not to two historical stages of the mind, but to two paradigmatic modalities (Blumenberg evokes “potentiality” in the sense of Aristotelian ontology, p. 137) of the mode of relation of the subject to the world, in language, in science, or in myth. The past, writes Blumenberg,

 

is “decided” from all possible pasts, which are always causally present: for example as literature, as vocabulary, philosophical doctrines, museum objects, etc. (Blumenberg, p. 138)

 

It is therefore a revolution in the relationship to history that is announced: no longer a history of being, but a history of “paradigmatic eras” reproducing and themselves culturally while producing the conditions of possibility of the subject’s self-constitution.

            In other words, individuals who establish themselves in the distance that separates them from the world of objects as transcendental subjects proceed from an epochal focus that polarizes the mediation of this distance, from the tools that are available. They do not follow a historical progression dependent on their relationship to belief or their relationship to science, they depend on the availability of tools that allow them to react to the internal crisis, and which leads them to organize themselves by instituting the conditions of possibility of ontogenesis as it is established in the epochal paradigm as resolution of the distance to the world. Because the transcendental subject is above all the process of the affirmation of its own autonomy in its use of the principle of determinability, this would be a phenomenology that wants to be existential (or existential) – the influences of Landgrebe, Freud but also Heidegger himself on Blumenberg are known. The subject, for Blumenberg (but not yet explicitly in the Habilitation), is capable of returning to the conditions of materialization of its own principle of determinability, starting from this fundamental crisis of which he identifies the work (and not the origin) in the quantitative differential of the regimes of the synthetic activity a priori of the cognition.

            From then on, this “ambivalence” (a term that is not already present in the paths pursued during the Habilitation, despite several titles exposing an ambivalence, such as §1 of the second part) is expressed as a paradigm, or as a principle, of a simultaneous double tension external to each individual in his relationship to the world, and internal to each individual in the relationship of his faculties between them, between finitude and imagination, and which materializes on the phenomenological level in the use of his own process of determinability as a transcendental subject through the historical availabilities in each era.

 

            The formal content of the text

 

In addition to the philosophers of Antiquity and the Middle Ages, Blumenberg’s doctrinal trajectory crosses several of the philosophical edifices that are contemporary with him. The borrowings that he makes from them and the critical props with which he modifies them are, however, often the occasion for a questioning of the foundations of their structures, sometimes without having named them. This is his obsession with the « paradigm” (see his 1971 article: “Paradigma, grammatisch”, in op. cit., 2001). What can thus pass for an infinite heterodoxy (to Husserl, Heidegger and Landgrebe himself, to cite the names that are most often found, but one could add Cassirer, Kant, Thomas Aquinas or Plotinus), or for a dispersion whose center one could not locate, would exacerbate a certain annoyance, a fortiori in the event of disagreements on the conclusions or the practicality of the concepts deployed. His writings on phenomenology (from 1981 to 1988, edited by Nicola Zambon) and his writings on literature (from 1945 to 1958, edited by Alexander Schmitz and Bernd Stiegler) are known, both of which were published by Suhrkamp. By its proliferation, which nevertheless designates a center of gravity, certainly invisible to those who approach it without conjectures on the horizon, Blumenberg irritates.

            And still! The elements considered by Blumenberg in Die ontologische Distanz find their vein in the diffusion of everything that touches on ontology: both from the point of view of ontogenesis as production and at the same time from the idea of ​​ontogenesis as product. In doing so, he reflects both on the expression of the morphology of ontological distance in the ambivalence between mythos and logos (II §1) which contains in its seminal state what is in 1971 the surer gesture of “Wirklichkeitsbergiff und Wirkungspotential des Mythos”, then also instructs a part of The Readability of the World (1981, Cornell University Press, 2022 for the English edition), as well as on the form that the exteriority of the guarantee of reason can take (II §7), as well as on history as an investment of ontological valences (III §1), but it is unthinkable to render exhaustively the content of the list of “historical-philosophical practical cases” which constitute the four parts of this text. Here and there, each paragraph could and should be discussed in order to be ideally presented; here is a loosely translated list which allows us to grasp the dynamics at work in the text:

 

Part I: Explanation and development of the problem of distance

  • 1. The questioning of the scientific character of philosophy
  • 2. The origin of the scientific self-interpretation of philosophy
  • 3. The decisive ontological character of the scientific concept of certainty
  • 4. The radicalization of the scientific concept of certainty in phenomenology
  • 5. The problem of the distance of the phenomenological reduction
  • 6. The inversion of the Cartesian-phenomenological approach

 

Part II: Insights into the Historical Morphology of Ontological Distance

  • 1. “Mythos” and “Logos”
  • 2. The Socratic Situation and the Logos
  • 3. The Metaphysical Definition of Theoretical Distance
  • 4. The Disempowerment of the Cosmic Logos
  • 5. Seeing and Hearing
  • 6. The Double Truth and the Origin of the Crisis of Certainties
  • 7. The Self-Assertion of Reason in the Face of the Question of Certainty
  • 8. The Decisive Ontological Character of the Enlightenment and the Awakening of the Historical Sense

 

Part III: Objectivity and Independence as Terms of Ontological Distance

  • 1. Historical Past and Historical Present
  • 2. The Original Form of the Philosophical Question
  • 3. The Genesis of Historical Consciousness as the Original Formation of Objects
  • 4. World and Object
  • 5. The World as Intellectual Achievement
  • 6. The Foundations of the Phenomenological World of Science in Its Problems of Originality
  • 7. The Yield of the Phenomenological Concept of “Horizon” for the Theme of the “World”.
  • 8. The Passive Genesis of the World Horizon

 

Part IV: The Finitude of Thought

  • 1. The Infinite Project of Phenomenology as a Claim to Historical Impartiality
  • 2. The Collapse of the Universal Familiarity Structure of the World
  • 3. The Destruction of the Ontological Foundations of the Project of Infinite Certainty
  • 4. The Reduction of the Forgetting of Being and the New Thought of Being

 

The editorial content of the 2022 work therefore includes the 1950 version, which is the one used for the defense and is spread over 276 pages (9-285), the framework of which I have just outlined, but it also contains the first, more concentrated version from 1949, containing 56 pages (287-249) including the bibliography, as an “attachment” to the 1950 manuscript. This is the file established by Blumenberg himself on the cover of which he had drawn a skull, thereby ensuring highly toxic, pirated or at least poisoned content – ​​hence the “caution” I was talking about earlier.

            Let us write it again with the help of this new argument: when consulting this skeleton, it’s possible to see clearly how, later, Blumenberg’s philosophy was able to envelop and integrate into pre-existing concerns the position of a philosopher of myth and culture such as Ernst Cassirer. Similarly, I could envisage what was already preparing the philosopher from Lübeck for the position that is his own regarding the Davos quarrel opposing Cassirer to Heidegger, notably on the level of the destination of the human being with regard to his finitude: as a source or as an impasse – even announcing, in fact, his response to the positions taken by Wittgenstein and Russell on this subject, and ultimately his position regarding the outcomes of the “cleavage” that fractured philosophy between continental philosophy and analytic philosophy.

            Some would say that Blumenberg is involved in too many quarrels, wants to lead too many struggles simultaneously on the same front, and these titles give a paradoxical insight into the rigorous homogeneity of his approach, which radiates from the problem of ontological distance, that is, as I have already written, from the phenomenological connection of the subject to the world through the performance structure that is consciousness — consciousness of something, in accordance with Husserl’s identification of the connection of consciousness to the world. It should not be forgotten that the 1950 text of Die ontologische Distanz is not a testament but, on the contrary, a burst frozen in its energy, some of whose repercussions are only subsequently dealt with. Systematizing the idea of ​​a “thought of crisis”, Blumenberg even went, late in life (that is to say, not directly in the text which concerns us here), to the limit of the functionality of the activity of thinking.

 

            The Habilitation Quarrel

 

As early as 1949, Blumenberg was ready to submit the text of his habilitation thesis. One of the three jurors, Walter Bröcker, wrote the equivalent of a completely devastating preliminary jury report on the 1949 version. It is possible that Bröcker simply did not find the question posed by Blumenberg relevant, nor did he find a sensible solution to the problem he claimed to provide. There is no real explanation other than the speculations of commentators who do not allow us to understand this conflict, apart from, perhaps, a certain defense of the orthodoxy of Heidegger’s reading.[1]

            As Zambon writes, Bröcker’s exact motives are still unknown today, but it seems that the third assessor, whose name and the content of his intervention are still unknown to this day, ultimately “saved” Blumenberg (Zambon, p. 367). In any case, the candidate experienced the content of this preliminary report as a casus belli, and Nicola Zambon speaks of a “slap in the face” in the afterword. Blumenberg considered this preliminary report as a personal attack, aimed either at the Catholic tradition of his intellectual training, or at the heterodoxy of his Heideggerian reading, or even at the divergence of Heidegger’s reading of Husserl on the one hand, whose doctoral student Bröcker was until 1928, and those of Husserl read by Landgrebe on the other hand. Thus, rather than hearing it as a questioning of a possible immaturity of all or part of the doctrinal positions of this demonstration that would become the Habilitation, Blumenberg made it a personal matter, over which he sometimes put Landgrebe in a situation of emotional blackmail. Simultaneously and because he had no choice, intellectually speaking, Blumenberg took up the manuscript in its entirety to the point of “completely reorganizing [it]” (Zambon, p. 368). With his other “fathers”, the same Bröcker would validate the text of the Habilitation in its definitive form in 1950.

            In addition to a certain tendency towards exaggeration or dramatic and definitive statements—which his mentor mostly appeases—one must therefore take into account Blumenberg’s resentment towards what could have been the objective reality of his environment. At this stage, any researcher who is particularly invested in his work and identifies with the success of his ideas can only feel boundless empathy for the Blumenberg who was just thirty years old. However, without this failure, without what he experienced as the humiliation of his first Habilitation project, “because of its majestic pretensions, to measure modernity by the horizon and its crisis” (p. 372), Nicola Zambon suggests that Blumenberg might never have written his major works—which can perhaps pass for belated responses to some of the lapidary remarks in Bröcker’s provisional report.

            Perhaps, for archaeological reasons, readers should go back to his doctoral thesis to understand the extent to which the germ of what would later happen was to be found in his entire work, but I believe at this stage that the work of reworking the text of the Habilitation, after the failure of the first (too hasty) submission, between 1948 and 1950, truly “determined” the direction that Blumenberg would take in his entire philosophical stance. For example, I find in the Contribution (his doctoral thesis) the famous intuition, later taken up and systematically deployed, of the “paradigmatic epochs”, which Blumenberg will associate with the materializations of that by which the history of consciousness treats the test of ontological distance, and which recalls certain elements of the posture of the still Privatdozent Heidegger, and accessible in his courses of the winter semester 1921-1922, published in English under the title Phenomenological Interpretations of Aristotle, Initiation into Phenomenological Research (Indiana University Press, 2001) – edition whose German version was precisely directed by Walter Bröcker (1902-1992) and his wife Käte Oltmanns, both former students of Heidegger. The content of the relationship between paradigmatic eras under the pen of Heidegge corresponds to what Blumenberg develops here for exemple in III, §1, pp. 135-149, “Historische Vergangenheit und geschichtliche Gegenwart” (Volume 61 of the Complete Works of Heidegger, 1985). Going in the same direction as this first Heidegger, the very history of consciousness becomes for Blumenberg a historicity of the modes of resolution of the ontological distance throughout the succession of paradigmatic epochs, investing the “potential” of yet-unconscious influences. Blumenberg then has to distance himself from Heidegger in his own eyes and he chooses to defend Husserl – although Husserl’s name does not appear in the final title.

 

            The project of a reflection mixing metaphysics and phenomenology

 

Ultimately, he attempted to propose nothing less than a reflection extending the Krisis of the subject, as identified by Husserl, in his Habilitation thesis. To quote the presentation on the publishing house’s website:

 

[…] a monumental project that seeks nothing less than to measure the philosophical horizon of modernity against a backdrop of crisis. Although Die ontologische Distanz does not entirely live up to this claim, the combination of historical-philosophical interests and the phenomenological method of the study lays the foundations on which Blumenberg’s major research on the history of consciousness would flourish in the following decades to come.

 

Indeed, I observe the ramifications of the continuation of Die ontologische Distanz taken as a construction site in the publications that occurred between 1950 and 1996 — and even beyond due to a very intense posthumous editorial activity. The Husserlian transcendental subject (then increasingly Kantian, as Blumenberg progressed) has a reserve of resources to institute the choices that he will make in the course of his principle of determinability (Die Sorge geht über den Fluß, Frankfurt, Suhrkamp Verlag, 1987): and to describe the subject himself (Beschreibung des Menschen) and to describe the readability of the world (Die Lesbarkeit der Welt, ); this reserve materializing in the possibility of resorting to the elements constituting the history of culture. The management of the internal crisis, fundamental to any subject conscious of the availability of the principle of determinability, makes culture the destination and the origin of the uses that the subject will make of it[2]: culture is the container of all the frozen traces of the historicization of reactions to the fundamental economy of fear (Schrecken) that all human beings experience. These frozen forms are available in culture and can be seized by subsequent generations for their management of this same internal crisis, similar in motive and reason, but dissimilar in historical influence. The conditions of possibility of the subject establish, in this new configuration of the morphology of ontological distance, a new concept of reality, establishing the conditions of the shift from one “epochal paradigm”, or “paradigmatic epoch” to another (for example pp. 135-137). In the dynamic balance between “ritual texts” (texts that establish a paradigmatic era) and the “poeticization” of these texts, ontological distance is the primordial paradigm of the activity from which the possibility of the self-decomposition of the historicization of the subject progresses.

            This primordial, incontestable paradigm is therefore manifested in the mediation by which the subject resolves the distance to the world (of factuality, of finitude) and is expressed at the level of the subject in the quantitative distance between the two regimes of the activity of the mind: the regime of the logico-formal, already identified by Kant, and the regime of intuitions, the hypothesis of which we have put forward elsewhere, under the name of an “aesthetico-formal regime” (Marciset, op. cit., 2023). In other words, and to attach it to the Heideggerian trajectory of the history of being, just as being conscious always depends with Husserl on a consciousness of something, like an activity carried out on an object, being always means being in the world, and this is the meaning of the syntagm Dasein. So that these are two different and complementary ways of speaking of one and the same structure of performance, which the doxa calls consciousness or being: by being (there, in the world) or by consciousness (of the object, of the world).

            For Die ontologische Distanz, read through the lens of Blumenberg’s later work, being might not be the depository of an essence or a truth, but the focus of a permanent enactment of the conditions of possibility of the structure of performance at the foundation of the possibility of the transcendental subject which actualizes, since the inclusion of the principle of crisis at the very heart of its faculties, the valences of the current paradigmatic epoch and state of permanent mutability. The crisis is thus neither a promise nor a threat but the agent of the ontological dynamic and the guarantee of the perseverance of consciousness as an activity — whether one chooses, at this stage, to support this activity in an understanding of the Critique of Pure Reason as proposed by the neo-Kantians, on the side of theories of knowledge, or whether one seeks, as Heidegger does, the restitution of the historicity of Dasein. Husserlian indifference or Heideggerian anxiety, it doesn’t matter: the history of consciousness is always one historical morphology (a punctual being, one of its events) of ontological distance, which is the activity of what it is to be in the world.

            There is no simplification in a return to essentialization in Blumenberg’s theory: it is not a question of considering that his theory, however functional it may be, would rest on the idea of ​​a “truth” of human nature and this is precisely what pushes Blumenberg towards Cassirer and simultaneously leads him to keep a certain distance from him[3]. No more than there would be a “truth” of the modes of application of Kantian theories, in Blumenberg’s prism, there is no ameliorative conception of the history of the mind. The superposition of the exteriority of the model as it can be theorized with the internal economy of the subject is due to a constructivist product and is not concerned with a destination or a prefiguration of what happens in history (Blumenberg, Präfiguration, Frankfurt, Surkhamp Verlag, 2014). In other words, Blumenberg’s theory is a theory of the “paradigmatic epoch” presiding over the metakinetic portion of the period thus presented, much more than a “history of being ».

 

            Conclusion

 

What is the ontological distance that Hans Blumenberg deals with in his habilitation thesis? Two things, both of which arise from the relationship between the distance of the subject and the world, and from the conditions of possibility of materialization and polarization of this distance. It is in this distance, for Blumenberg, that the historicity of science is established. The first of these two implications concerns the repercussions of the evolution of this distance throughout history (the question of historicity being at the center of the problem, depending on whether the notion is considered as a phenomenon or as a cause) and then joins Husserl. “”For Husserl,”” writes Blumenberg, “method” is rather “the organon by which the scientific spirit frees itself from the contingency and finiteness of the researching individuals and escapes from the constraints of factual historical existence” (Blumenberg, p. 248). “The infinite implication of the phenomenological method, which here represents modern science, banishes humans from philosophical thought. It contains the functionalization of the individual and his sacrifice for a task indifferent to man and his finitude.” (Zambon, p. 358)

            The second links the metakinetics of the subject, or practical being (Die Zweckmäßigkeit des Dasein) taken as a paradigmatic epoch (paradigmatische Epoche), to this problem and reinjects — or attempts to reinject — the method specific to phenomenology into the study of historicity, leading to a restoration of the history of being (Seinsgeschichte), but this time, against any risk of essentialization and through the historically metakinetic mobility of the subject.

            I find here the motif of the homogeneity of the work of the “invisible” philosopher. Blumenberg’s inspiration for his Habilitation thesis comes from a phenomenological generalization of the specific work that occupied him in his thesis and related to the problem of the crisis of the subject in modern European sciences. Thus, returning to the common conception of scholasticism on the ontological level, not “only [as] mediation and [as] passage for the heritage of Antiquity”, but also having a “distinct and original contribution of its own” (Blumenberg, Beiträge, 2020, p. 24), he begins to perceive the shifts of epochs as signs of the metakinetic activity of being, thereby opposing Heidegger’s understanding of the history of being. History is a manifestation of the metakinetics of being, and not the direct relationship of being to history, and it is the status of the distance of being to history, through the mediation of this metakinetics, which constitutes the originality of Blumenberg’s phenomenological (and de facto anthropological) posture.

 


[1] Nicola Zambon, “Nachwort des Herausgebers” in op. cit., 2022, pp. 366-367 and p. 370. It seems that the only argument that is still alive today concerns the lack of recourse to texts that are not strictly derived from Husserl, and which could imply different readings of Kant, as well as the Habilitation’s supposed failure to resolve anything genuine. For a more exhaustive exposition of the quarrel, see Rüdiger Zill, Der absolute Leser. Hans Blumenberg: Eine intellektuelle Biographie, Berlin, Suhrkamp Verlag, 2020, pp. 146-156.

[2] Hans Blumenberg, “Wirklichkeitsbegriff und Wirkungspotential des Mythos,” (1971) in op. cit., 2001; already outlined in op. cit., 2022, pp. 61-66, II, §1. “Mythos” and “Logos.”

[3] Read about this in Haverkamp, ​​op. cit., Paradigm, 2017, pp. 53-56.

 

 

Christian Schmidt: Vom Trauma zum bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnis

Vom Trauma zum bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnis. Über die Entstehungsbedingungen von Person und Personalität aus Sicht der medizinischen und der Philosophischen Anthropologie Book Cover Vom Trauma zum bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnis. Über die Entstehungsbedingungen von Person und Personalität aus Sicht der medizinischen und der Philosophischen Anthropologie
Christian Schmidt
Philosophie der Psychopathologie, Philosophische Anthropologie
Karl Alber
2024
Hardcover
342
https://www.nomos-shop.de/de/p/vom-trauma-zum-bedeutungsvollen-ersterlebnis-gr-978-3-495-99450-4

Seit einigen Jahren schon ist sowohl in der deutschen wie auch der internationalen Diskussion ein großes Interesse an der Verknüpfung phänomenologischer Theoriebildung und Grundlagenproblemen der Psychopathologie zu erkennen. Dabei ist zu beobachten, dass sich die phänomenologisch orientierten Beiträge (naheliegenderweise) vor allem an der Frage abarbeiten, was das ‚Wesen‘ psychischer Krankheit ausmacht und welche Rolle sie hinsichtlich der Gegebenheit von Lebenswelt (bzw. der Interaktion mit ihr) spielen. In diesem Zusammenhang beziehen sich die meisten Ansätze auf Klassiker wie z. B. Husserl oder Merleau-Ponty.

Christian Schmidt verfolgt in seiner Studie zu Traumata, Ersterlebnissen und Personalität ein doppeltes Anliegen: Erstens geht es ihm darum, einen Zugang zum Phänomen des Traumas zu erschließen. Dazu soll mit dem Begriff des „bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnisses“ ein Gattungsbegriff herausarbeitet werden, der es gestatten soll, neben den Traumata als Ersterlebnissen der „Diskrepanz“ auch Erlebnisse der „Kongruenz“ zu artikulieren (15). Zweitens soll gezeigt werden, dass die Verwirklichung von Personalität in der Lebensführung von Menschen als ‚Aufgabe‘ die Kontextualisierung bedeutsamer Ersterlebnisse (seien sie nun erhebend oder erschütternd) einschließt (15). Dabei bezieht er sich zum einen auf Karl Jaspers und die Denker des sog. „Wengener Kreises“ – hier schwerpunktmäßig Ervin Straus und Victor Emil von Gebsattel – sowie zum anderen auf Max Scheler und Helmuth Plessner, also zwei Protagonisten der Denktradition der Philosophischen Anthropologie.

Zunächst erarbeitet Schmidt einen Überblick über psychiatrische und psychopathologische Ansätze zum Trauma, wobei er auch die einschlägige Entwicklung der PTBS-Forschung beleuchtet (17 ff.). Besonders interessieren ihn an dieser Stelle Alternativen zu neurobiologischen Mainstream-Theorien, etwa das von G. Fischer und P. Riedesser vertretene Verständnis von Traumata als „Erschütterung von Selbst- und Weltverhältnis“ (48) als Folge des Erlebens einer „schutzlosen Preisgabe“ an „bedrohliche Umweltfaktoren“ (52). Diesen Theorien und den darauf fußenden verhaltenstherapeutischen Ansätzen kann Schmidt bereits einiges abgewinnen, er kritisiert jedoch die Fixierung auf das Erlebnis selbst, das in der Therapie bewusst durchgearbeitet werden soll (53). Als Erweiterung schlägt er vor, den biografischen Zusammenhang der Person verstärkt zu berücksichtigen, um traumatische Erlebnisse kontextualisieren und zu anderen bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnissen in Beziehung setzen zu können. Für einen solchen Ansatz bedarf es jedoch einerseits einer systematischen Erschließung des Begriffs bedeutungsvoller Ersterlebnisse sowie andererseits eines Zugangs zur Person und ihrem biografischen Zusammenhang. Da die Ansätze von Straus und Gebsattel von einer ähnlichen Grundintuition ausgehen, erscheint ihre Rezeption besonders naheliegend, auch wenn Schmidt sich (im Anschluss an Passie und Borck) darüber im Klaren ist, dass diese Rezeption zugleich kritisch-distanziert erfolgen muss.

Die nächsten Kapitel beinhalten jeweils Kombinationen von kurzen biografischen Darstellungen und informativen Werksanalysen der Denker Straus und Gebsattel. Hier weist Schmidt darauf hin, dass die beiden Denker gegensätzliche Zugriffe entwickeln, die sich allerdings bis zu einem bestimmten Punkt ergänzen: Beiden ist die Auffassung gemeinsam, dass bedeutungsvolle Ersterlebnisse in den Bedeutungszusammenhang der personalen Biografie zu integrieren sind (105). Während Straus nun die Erfordernis leiblich-lebendiger Spielräume und eines offenen Deutungshorizonts (Kultur) für eine „gestaltende Beantwortung“ von Situationen betont (113), hebt Gebsattel den „numinosen“ Widerfahrnischarakter von Ersterlebnissen hervor und verweist auf die Bedeutung höherer Werte, um die Patientin von Selbsttäuschungen und Verlorenheit zu befreien (122–135). Mit den unterschiedlichen Zugriffen gehen auch verschiedene Vorstellungen hinsichtlich der Rolle der Therapeutin einher: Während es bei Straus vor allem darum zu gehen scheint, unter Bejahung lebendiger Individualität zur Einnahme einer deutenden Haltung zu verhelfen (143), geht Gebsattel offensichtlich weiter, indem die Therapeutin hier als eine Art Seelsorger-Figur die Deutungshoheit über die gelungenen oder misslungenen Orientierungen auf höhere Werte übernehmen soll (131, 143). Ein derartiges Verständnis sieht Schmidt kritisch, indem er schreibt:

„Könnte die suggestive Wirkung eines seelsorgerischen Psychotherapeuten wie Gebsattel bei seinen Patientinnen nicht durchaus bewirken, dass sie numinose Qualitäten in ihre früheren Erlebnisse hineinfantasieren, um sich mit Gebsattels Hilfe in eine transzendentale Heilsphäre zu retten […]? Anders gefragt: Was wäre mit all jenen Patientinnen anzufangen, die nicht dazu im Stande sind, in ihren Erlebnissen numinose Qualitäten zu identifizieren und diese zur Entfaltung zu bringen?“ (143)

Neben dieser Gefahr einer mit der Therapeutin ‚mitvollzogenen‘ „Selbstmystifizierung“ (143) der Patientin gibt Schmidt ferner zu bedenken, dass eine solche Auffassung der Figur der Therapeutin mit der seelsorgerischen Autorität auch ein großes Maß an Verantwortung aufbürdet, das in der Realität therapeutischer Praxis schwer einzulösen ist (160).

Im Anschluss an die Rezeption der beiden Denker entwickelt Schmidt eine Lesart des bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnisses als Gattungs- oder „Überbegriff“ (139) für Erlebnisse, die durch ihre „Erstmaligkeit“ (105) der Biografie neue Richtungen geben oder zu Brüchen führen. Dabei kann es sich nicht nur um Erlebnisse der „Diskrepanz“ (Trauma), sondern auch der „Kongruenz“ handeln (138 f.). Auf dieser Basis skizziert er ein Verlaufsmodell, das erstens die psychovitale Vorsequenz, zweitens das Ersterlebnis und drittens die Integrationsphase umfasst (144 f.). Im Vergleich zu den eingangs erwähnten Traumatheorien besteht seine Pointe darin, dass eine hermeneutische Deutung der sich in der Biografie zeigenden psychovitalen Vorsequenz nötig ist, um die bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnisse integrieren zu können.

Der zweite Teil des Buches zielt darauf ab, im Anschluss an Helmuth Plessner und Max Scheler eine Lesart von Personalität zu entwickeln. Auch hier verfährt Schmidt wieder nach dem Schema Biografie, Werkschau und Schlussfolgerung, wobei er auch einschlägige Anschlüsse wie die Arbeiten von Hans-Peter Krüger, Matthias Wunsch und Moritz v. Kalckreuth einbezieht. Analog zu den gegensätzlich-komplementären Konzeptionen von Gebsattel und Straus stellt er hier Plessners Bezug auf das Leiblich-Lebendige (221 ff.) der Fokussierung Schelers auf Liebe, Fühlen und Werthaftigkeit (268 ff.) gegenüber. Im systematischen Schlusskapitel erschließt Schmidt schlussendlich das „Diskurssystem“, das sich ausgehend von den vier Positionen ergibt (310). Während Straus und Plessner die Person vom Lebendigen und dem sich durch Leiblichkeit und Positionalität ergebenden „Spielraum“ (319) her charakterisieren, sieht er bei Scheler und Gebsattel eine Bestimmung des Personalen ausgehend von der Bezogenheit auf (a)personal Geistiges und Werthaftes (311, 319).

Die Verbindung der Fragen nach bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnissen und nach Personalität besteht letztlich darin, dass es die Betrachtung bedeutungsvoller Ersterlebnisse (inkl. Traumata) vor dem Hintergrund der Person und ihrer Biografie (statt isoliert als Einzelereignis) gestattet, die eigene Personalität zu behaupten und zu entfalten – was Schmidt als „personales Wachstum“ vom psychotherapeutischen Trendbegriff „posttraumatischen Wachstums“ abgrenzt (323–326). Auf diese Weise wird die Idee von gelingender Personalität als „Aufgabe“ mit einbezogen, ohne sie – so seine Kritik an Jaspers – als „heroische Verantwortungsübernahme“ (140) angesichts von Grenzsituationen zu stilisieren. Auch wenn man sich an dieser Stelle vielleicht eine etwas ausführliche Entfaltung dieser systematisch wichtigen Schlussfolgerung gewünscht hätte (sowie ggf. eine Verortung zu ähnlich anmutenden Ansätzen wie etwa Anwendungen der Resonanztheorie), so leuchtet doch ihre Implikation für die therapeutische Praxis völlig ein.

Insgesamt stellt Christian Schmidts Buch eine sehr gelungene Verbindung von Psychopathologie, philosophischer Diskussion und Intellektuellenbiografie(n) dar. Dabei erscheinen drei Momente besonders hervorhebenswert: Erstens gelingt es ihm einerseits, den psychiatrisch-therapeutischen Status quo der Traumaforschung für eine Leserschaft aus der Philosophie überzeugend zu rekonstruieren, sowie andererseits die philosophischen Kategorien des bedeutungsvollen Ersterlebnisses und der Person auf eine Weise zu verteidigen, die auch Leserinnen aus der psychiatrischen oder therapeutischen Praxis einleuchten dürfte. Zweitens mag die Verbindung von komprimierter Werkschau und Biographie der besprochenen Denker zwar gelegentlich über das inhaltliche Anliegen des Buches hinausgehen, sie ist aber dennoch insofern hoch informativ, als sie zeigt, wie sich bei Gebsattel, Straus und Binswanger theoretische Anschauungen und die eigene therapeutische Tätigkeit zueinander verhielten. Drittens wahrt Schmidt – bei aller inhaltlichen Sympathie – eine vorbildliche Sachlichkeit und intellektuelle Redlichkeit, die sich insbesondere in der kritischen Reflexion der Rolle des Therapeuten zeigt.

Stefano Marino, Eleonora Guzzi: The Philosophy of Radiohead: Music, Technology, Soul

The Philosophy of Radiohead: Music, Technology, Soul Book Cover The Philosophy of Radiohead: Music, Technology, Soul
Stefano Marino, Eleonora Guzzi
Mimesis
2024
Paperback
172

Reviewed by: Chiara Rubbonello  

The Philosophy of Radiohead: Music, Technology, Soul is a revised version, translated into English, of the book La filosofia dei Radiohead. Musica, tecnica, anima, written by Stefano Marino and Eleonora Guzzi, and originally published in Italian in 2021. This particular work stands apart from many other books that have been written about Radiohead, which have generally dealt with the band’s history or its discography or the band’s members individual biographies. Instead, The Philosophy of Radiohead is a sort of “hybrid” work, presenting itself, on the one hand, as a musical and poetical investigation of Radiohead’s artistic path, and on the other hand as a philosophical essay on the possible connections between the main results achieved by the band and «some observations on the relationship between art, technology and society, like those offered by a wide array of thinkers that may include, among others, Martin Heidegger, Max Horkheimer, Günter Anders, Hannah Arendt, Arnold Gehlen, and […] Theodor W. Adorno» (p. 11). Although the book written by Marino and Guzzi is strictly focused on Radiohead, it is not just aimed to reach the fans of the Oxford-based band; in fact, The Philosophy of Radiohead also proves to be an interesting read for those who are not familiar with the whole oeuvre of the band but are anyway fascinated by pop-rock music and/or curious about its potential connections to contemporary society and the music industry. Although philosophical themes are consistently present in The Philosophy of Radiohead, the book is straightforward and can be easily understood, thanks to its clear language that makes it accessible to a wide range of readers, whether they are experts of philosophy or not. Though not exclusively, Marino and Guzzi make frequently reference to Adorno’s philosophy, both for his influential position in the critical theory of the Frankfurt School and for his musical interests, which make him an essential voice in a text that precisely deals with the relationship between critical philosophy and music. As explained in the book, Adorno was also a musicologist and composer who analyzed the musical landscape of his time through the lens of critical philosophy. Focusing on the relationship between music and society, Adorno sharply and critically distinguished two musical spheres: popular music and serious music. For him, all popular music exhibited a conciliatory, uncritical attitude towards the society, whereas serious music (at least in its more experimental forms, like in avant-garde music) maintained a critical relationship with it. Therefore, serious music – which Adorno especially appreciated in its more radical and more innovative expressions – was considered the only kind of music actually provided with a subversive potential and hence capable to express a real “truth content”.

However, in accepting and endorsing some of Adorno’s ideas (who can be considered, in many ways, the critical theorist par excellence), the authors of The Philosophy of Radiohead also suggest to critically rethink and reconsider them, thus using his conceptual tools while questioning some of his conclusions. Marino and Guzzi argue that both fields could benefit from the proposed connection between critical philosophy and pop-rock music: on the one hand, it offers an opportunity to rethink some of critical philosophy’s key concepts in a perhaps less radical way and certainly in a more contemporary light, relating them with some products from today’s popular culture and allowing to philosophize with Adorno and at the same time against (or beyond) him; on the other hand, it offers a fresh perspective on the music of a band like Radiohead, which, depending on the diverse perspectives of different listeners, can be sometimes seen as a “mere” artistic product – or worse, just as a source of entertainment. According to the authors, Radiohead’s music seems to controvert Adorno’s notion of popular music as a mere standardized product of the culture industry, totally uncritical and lacking any genuine truth content. It is important to note that Adorno himself did not conceive of the distinction between serious music and popular music as ontological; rather, he understood it as historical and thus believed in the dynamic and changing nature of the relationship between the two spheres, which allowed for a redefinition in different historical periods. Actually, as Stefano Marino and Eleonora Guzzi point out, our current historical period has witnessed a redefinition of the relationship between serious and popular music, as some musical groups inside the popular sphere, for example, seem to adopt a critical attitude towards the society and the music industry in which they operate.

This seems to be the case of Radiohead, which uses its artistic production to critically challenge our materialistic and alienating society. As persuasively argued in The Philosophy of Radiohead, the band’s poetic vision always includes a «critique of the deformations and even obsessions that can derive from an unscrupulous and unreasonable use of technology in our highly technologized, digitalized and also globalized world» (p. 24), evident both in the lyrics and in the musical structure and sound of Radiohead’s songs. The book points out the recurrence and centrality of several themes, in the songs of the band, that are distinctly critical of contemporary society: «each song at least in part reflects themes such as the subject’s troubles, difficulties and uncertainties in the present, the difficulty of human relationships in a digitalized and virtual world, the need for a greater closeness to and protection of nature, and so on» (p. 28). Radiohead’s songs often denounce phenomena that are characteristic of the present day, thoroughly explored by critical philosophy, such as the discomfort and alienation of contemporary individuals, their spiritual impoverishment, and the illusory nature of their free choices in a society dominated by technology and entirely devoted to consumerism.

As evidence, the authors highlight that in 2019 Radiohead’s frontman, Thom Yorke, released a solo album titled Anima, «which is focused on the feeling of anxiety and worry that afflicts individuals and grips their souls, validating more than ever the idea of a creative process and a narrative characterized by a sense of technological dystopia and, at the same time, by the desire to openly confront the challenge that technology represents, rather than flee from it» (p. 28-29). Anima and technology are two key concepts employed in the discussion developed in the book, as is already made clear from its subtitle: Music, Technology, Soul. In fact, The Philosophy of Radiohead offers a philosophically oriented exploration of the band’s artistic journey, which can be interpreted as a dialectical development of the relationship between the dimension of technology, initially perceived in the first albums as an «alienating, destabilizing and often suffocating force» (p. 13), and the soul, understood as the individual’s free and spontaneous interiority. Technology, in particular, is understood as inherently dialectical itself, as it does not include only its “dark” alienating and dehumanizing side, which makes it an agent of an «essentially and inexorably utilitarian “administered world”» (p. 45), but is also «able to gift new languages and original possibilities of expression to the human being that are better suited to, and efficient in, describing the existential malaise of our time and the discontents of our civilization » (p. 13).

The authors of The Philosophy of Radiohead describe how, in the case of Radiohead’s music, there is always a dynamic, dialectical relation with technology, which ends up being continually revisited as the band evolves artistically. In the band’s early work (especially their albums The Bends and OK Computer) a reference to technology appears mostly in the song lyrics as a threat to humans that «demand[s] the subordination of humans, making the human being an object of its domination» (p. 15), while the musical form of the songs often remains that of traditional rock, although with some notable experimentations in OK Computer. However, this form was destined to undergo «a breakthrough that, due to its truly radical nature, has few precedents in the recent history of pop-rock music» (ibidem). As highlighted in The Philosophy of Radiohead, from the album Kid A onward technology would no longer be addressed with distrust and fear, but would rather become a fundamental resource for the development of Radiohead: indeed, once the band became «aware of being unable to entirely evade the net and logic of technology that shape the world in the present age» (p. 28), it underwent «a new form of indirect and mediated emancipation that passes through technology itself, rather than manifesting itself in a more direct and immediate manner through a mere contraposition» (ibidem).

This virtuously dialectical choice effectively responds to the complexity of the phenomenon of technology: by establishing an inspiring and symbiotic relationship with it, technology becomes «the means used by the human beings to gain access to new creative languages and expressive possibilities» (p. 23), enabling the band to experiment, achieving particularly expressive and impactful results. The band seems to have realized that «a “human” message can often be more powerful and effective precisely when it is conveyed through technological means and their (real or presumed) “dehumanizing” nature» (p. 66). The critical relationship between the band’s music and society is thus simultaneously expressed on both a thematic level, i.e. the level of the contents of the lyrics, and a formal level.

This innovative use of technology confers a strong experimental character to the music of the band, which, as noted by the authors of The Philosophy of Radiohead, does not shy away from bold, sometimes avant-gardist sounds. A good example of this is especially Kid A, which, with its dark and menacing sounds, presents itself as «a sort of musical “riot act” by a band that had been “a hitherto ‘front-line’ rock act”, as well as a musical experiment that, in its own way, was quite extreme and radical at the time, guided by the goal of freeing itself from the mindset of a homogenizing, standardized culture and the system of the music business» (p. 60). In this willing for experimentation, we can hear echoes of Adorno, as the German philosopher believed that what we may generally call experimental music could generate a kind of artistic expression that conveys a form of critical truth. For Marino and Guzzi, Kid A has a style that «can at times sound difficult, hard, hostile, angular, indirect and intentionally tending towards a strong negation of every attempt at conciliation between the individual and his/her world» (p. 71). So, this style is entirely opposed to the standardized, uncritical and conciliatory style typically adopted, according to Adorno, by all popular music.

Nevertheless, The Philosophy of Radiohead does not just analyze the band’s aesthetics from a critical-philosophical perspective, but it also explores the practical relationship it has established with the market dynamics of the music industry. This relationship is significantly different from the one usually established between popular music and culture industry, and this can be easily noticed by looking at Radiohead’s discography, which appears rather restricted compared to that of other similar bands, as Radiohead has allowed itself relatively long breaks between the various albums, defying the production speed typically demanded by the culture industry. Beside the fact of partially distancing themselves from the market’s demands, the members of the band have managed to do more. According to Marino and Guzzi, the five musicians from Oxford have always been very aware «of not being able to fully flee from the power of the culture industry and show business» (p. 57), so that «the band always turned a critical eye towards these aspects of pop-rock music and, at the same time, belonged to this genre, also sharing its conception of it with the listeners. In this sense, Radiohead’s attempts to partially free itself from (or, from another perspective, to avoid fully adopting) the established rules of the culture industry and the market are well known, as well as the band’s attempts to exploit these rules in its favor on some occasions» (p. 58). According to the authors, it is fair to assert that the band has successfully followed a sort of “golden rule” originally formulated by Robert Fripp, which requires «[to be] “in the marketplace but not governed by the values of the marketplace” – which is to say working within the music industry as a sort of outsider, as a “small, mobile, independent, intelligent unit” in search for a way out from the suffocating alternative between a strict adherence to a merely consumerist aesthetics, on the one hand, and artistic marginalization, on the other» (ibidem).

Marino and Guzzi point out that, in practical terms, Radiohead has tried to distance itself from the traditional communication methods typically employed by the culture industry – for example, by distributing Kid A exclusively via the internet and adopting a “pay what you want” strategy for the album In Rainbows. On a strictly artistic level, through the critique embedded in its most successful tracks, Radiohead has managed to produce «commodities that transcend themselves or, to speak, self-transcending commodities» (p. 76), because it has managed to «[perform] a sort of aesthetic acrobatic turn, succeed in doing what Adorno himself self-consciously and paradoxically prescribed to philosophy and art in the age of their potential “liquidation”, namely to be able to repeat the Baron Münchhausen’s gesture of “pulling himself out of the bog by his pig-tail”: “nothing less is asked of the thinker today than that he [or she] should be at every moment both within things and outside them”» (p. 77).

The possibility, embodied by Radiohead’s songs, of transcending their commodification is a key point in the discussion, allowing the reflection to extend far beyond the analysis of the band’s aesthetics. Indeed, the analysis of the musical phenomenon embodied by Radiohead provided by the two authors is not (and does not aim to be) an end in itself; instead, it encourages a profound rethinking of the current possibilities for effective social critique that can reach the people through the popular arts. The Philosophy of Radiohead does more than highlighting the band’s exploration of deep themes on content, formal, and practical levels; it has the great merit of bringing to the fore the urgent need for a social critique that does not remain confined to academic and intellectual discussions, but takes shape within the popular sphere, thus reaching the masses. In the final analysis, the book argues that the popular arts – firmly condemned by thinkers like Adorno as untrue and uncritical, thus serving the perpetuation of the status quo – have, instead, the potential to engage in a critical relationship with society, using the market to their advantage to promote the spread of critique itself. The authors do not exclude, and indeed affirm, the possibility of finding other virtuous examples of popular musicians who, like Radiohead, have given voice to a free form of social criticism without losing the appreciation of the audience, taking on in their way the arduous and necessary task of turning the spotlight on the individual’s discomfort in our age.

Finally, a book like The Philosophy of Radiohead is a clear invitation to open our eyes (and especially our ears!) to pay attention to present-day issues, rather than passively, uncritically, and complacently naturalizing them. Only through collective awareness, we can embark on a radical qualitative change in our lives, leading to a society where the artificial needs, imposed by the market and fueled by ever more abundant yet less useful consumer goods, are replaced by the real needs that every human holds within themselves, whose unmet fulfillment implies a “reconciled” and submissive existence, and the renunciation of a full sense of life.

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.

Leswin Laubscher, Derek Hook, Miraj U. Desai (Eds.): Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology, Routledge, 2022

Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology Book Cover Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology
Edited By Leswin Laubscher, Derek Hook, Miraj U. Desai
Routledge
2022
Hardback
304

Reviewed by: Michael Blezy

Introduction

What exactly Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks contributes to the field of phenomenology is difficult to pin down. Although the text conveys its insights in the distinct vocabulary of phenomenology and its description and analysis of experience recognizably parallels the efforts of phenomenologists such as Husserl, Sartre and Merleau-Ponty, it is not immediately clear how Fanon’s work is supposed to relate to these thinkers or the phenomenological tradition he draws from.

For instance, does Fanon take himself to be merely applying, say, Husserlian or Sartrean phenomenology to a new or underexplored domain of phenomena while leaving the basic tenants of their phenomenology intact? Or is Fanon’s work much more ambitious, aiming not only to expand upon or supplement the work of his fellow phenomenologists, but to offer a fundamental challenge to their work? And if Fanon is offering a fundamental challenge to traditional phenomenology, is this challenge supposed to bring about an immanent transformation of phenomenology? Or is it supposed to call into question the very phenomenological enterprise and what it is capable of achieving?

Due to the lack of clarity on these basic issues, scholarly assessments of Fanon’s contribution to phenomenology vary widely. Reaction to Fanon’s phenomenological work ranges from complete neglect (Fanon’s name is not even mentioned in Moran’s (2000) Introduction to Phenomenology) to disparaging (consider Macy’s (2012, p. 132) assessment that “Fanon is not a terribly sophisticated phenomenologist”), to Fanon’s work being celebrated for its importance and originality and for moving the field of phenomenology in an exciting new direction. For instance, Karera (2020), speaking for a number of contemporary scholars that utilize phenomenology to explore issues of race, gender and politics (Guenther 2020; Weiss, Murphy, & Salamon 2020), heralds Fanon as one the key figures whose work ushered in a new era of politically-informed, “critical” phenomenology.

It is with a longstanding interest in precisely pinning down Fanon’s relationship to phenomenology that I eagerly dove into Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology, a collection of essays organized around Fanon’s contribution to a number of contemporary philosophical topics. In particular, I was encouraged to see that the editors and contributors took Fanon’s relation to phenomenology seriously, and that one of the editors’ main motivations for bringing together the collection was to shed light on the nature of Fanon’s phenomenology:

[A] rigorous exploration of Fanon’s distinctive uses and forms of phe­nomenology  emerged as one of the foremost motivations for this edited collection. As we began the  literature review that formed the first research task of this book, it quickly became apparent that there have been a number of excellent studies of Fanon’s uses of   phenomenology (many of which we have been fortunate enough to include in the pages that follow). The problem with this literature was not its content, but its distribution: Without dedicated searching and access to suitable academic databases and libraries, this literature remained so scattered and inaccessible that it has seemed, historically, as if it had almost completely fallen through the cracks of Fanon studies … [The] the appeal to experience, and more directly yet, the appeal to the lived experience of the Black man, is   an absolutely irreducible and crucial aspect of Black Skin, White Masks. At the risk of    being dramatic: There would be no Black Skin, White Masks without this method of        description and engagement. Fanon’s uses of phenomenology – which, as several of the     following chapters show, did not leave phenomenology unchanged – proved a condition   of possibility for that book, and, extending our argument, for much of what was most    compelling, visceral, and innovative within it. (2022, p. 7-8)

 

In what follows, I want to draw upon the contributions to Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology in order to say a bit more about how it is Fanon stands vis-a-vis phenomenology. I will not offer a summary of each of the articles in the collection. Not only would this be tedious for the reader, but the editors of the collection give an overview of the text and succinctly sum up each of the individual contributions in their introduction (p. 1-10). Instead, I want to specifically draw upon the contributors’ accounts of Fanon’s phenomenology and, further, critically evaluate these accounts, so as to bring new clarity to the relationship between Fanon and phenomenology.

Phenomenology and the Search for Structure

More than simply the fact that scholarly work on Fanon’s phenomenology has been scattered or inaccessible, it is the inherent difficulties with interpreting Fanon’s descriptions of experience and longstanding ambiguities and confusions regarding phenomenology itself that has resulted in a lack of clarity regarding Fanon’s contribution to the field. Black Skin, White Masks in particular, with its semi-autobiographical, fragmented, stream of consciousness way of proceeding, requires a large amount of philosophical reconstruction if something like arguments or positions are to be derived from it (including phenomenological ones).

Fortunately, for my purposes here, an overview of the ways in which Fanon’s phenomenology is characterized by the contributors to Fanon, Phenomenology, and Phenomenology will allow me to quickly get to the heart of the matter. By outlining the ways in which the contributors of the collection characterize (and, unfortunately, mischaracterize) Fanon’s phenomenological approach, the points of contact between Fanon and the phenomenological tradition he engages with will quickly be established.  

Before setting off on such a task, however, I think it will be useful for the reader if I briefly offer an account of how it is I understand phenomenology. By clarifying some of the key characteristics of phenomenology, as well as providing some philosophical distinctions that will allow me to more precisely differentiate between phenomenological accounts, Fanon’s relationship to phenomenology can be more accurately assessed.

In the Introduction to the recently published 50 Concepts for a Critical Phenomenology, the editors open the text in the following way:

Merleau-Ponty’s Phenomenology of Perception begins with a question: ‘What is   phenomenology?’ Nearly three-quarters of a century later, this question remains  unanswered. (2020, p. xiii)

Despite the inherent difficulties involved in definitively characterizing a field of philosophical investigation that is continually transforming as it critiques itself and finds new areas of application, I think the above claim is an exaggeration. And, frankly, I don’t believe the editors truly ascribe to it. A few pages later in the Introduction to 50 Concepts for a Critical Phenomenology, we are offered the following account of phenomenology which, at least in broad outline, marks out some of the key characteristics that belong to phenomenology:

One of phenomenology’s … methodological commitments is the refusal to accept     the taken-for-grantedness of experience. This commitment entails the perpetual   interrogation of the most familiar features of our everyday experience, not to deny them  but in order to know the better … Phenomenology is marked by a faith that such   descriptions can disclose the most basic structures of human existence … as these structures are brought into relief, our understand of our own experience is transformed, and our deepest assumption about our very being in the world may be challenged. (Ibid.)

Besides the regrettable characterization of phenomenology as marked by a “faith” that its description can disclose fundamental structures (there is no such faith, phenomenology is committed to its descriptions yielding such structures), this account nicely outlines at least three central features of phenomenology. In general, it can be said that phenomenology:

  • Does not accept as true any claim about the nature of our experience unless it is demonstrated by a means of a descriptive interrogation of experience. In part, this is the meaning of Husserl’s call to return to the “things” or “matters” themselves. Only what can be exhibited through the interrogation of experience should be philosophically adhered to.
  • Offers a descriptive interrogation of experience that does not simply lie content with more accurate, or perhaps even more rich and nuanced, descriptions of experience. Its descriptions are undertaken with a certain aim in mind: to reveal the “structures” (indeed, the most fundamental structures) of experience. I will say more about this below.
  • Concretely brings to light the structures of experience – an undertaking that transforms our relation to experience.

I think the main challenge offered by Fanon to traditional phenomenology revolves around a disagreement about how exactly the structures outlined in (2) are to be understood. However, before elaborating on (2), I want to briefly say something about (1) and (3).

Boldly stated, phenomenology’s goal of revealing structures of experience proceeds by way of an interrogative description of experience that concretely makes these structures apparent to the phenomenologist. For this reason, the task of providing better or more accurate accounts of what experience is like is not primary motivated by the goal of simply providing us with more nuanced or insightful accounts of our experience. Rather, phenomenology proceeds with an eye to reveal what makes experiences, and, indeed, experience as such, possible.

I want to suggest that this is the case no matter how important or meaningful the experiences interrogated may be to us. Indeed, “applied” phenomenology may offer us valuable clarifications and correctives regarding everything from what it like to undergo an emotional state to what it is like to sail a boat, to fall in love, play a video game or even give birth. However, such descriptions of what experience is like, although achieved by a descriptive turn to experience itself, do not necessarily satisfy the phenomenological aim of getting at the underlying phenomenological structures that make these experiences or experience itself possible. Indeed, it is the unearthing of structure that ultimately distinguishes phenomenology from mere psychological description, first-person reporting, or what an artist, poet, novelist or naturalist does when they attempt to depict or faithfully describe some aspect of our being in the world. In each of these instances, there is a turn to “things” or “matters” themselves – and in a loose sense, these things or matters provide the standard by which we judge the description – but they are not strictly speaking “phenomenological” in that the uniquely philosophical aim of exhibiting the underlying structures can fail to be undertaken. 

We can begin to understand phenomenology’s transformative dimension ((3) above) by noting that it can operate at two levels. First, it is common knowledge that undergoing experiences – philosophical or otherwise – results in a change in our relation to experience. Colloquially, we describe experiences as “marking us” or “giving a new perspective on life,” where what we are saying is that undergoing certain experiences transform who and what we are, and to such a degree, that they inform how it is we come to be disposed toward our experience. For instance, illness, the death of a loved one, the profound realizations we have in the face of art or nature – these experiences recontextualize lived experience in such a way that features and dimensions of the world are revealed to us that we had not experienced before. In a similar way, engaging in phenomenological descriptions – casting off our assumptions and theories about experience and paying heed to what it is experience itself offers or makes available to us – can occasion an experiential shift, perhaps even an irreversible shift, in how it is we experience ourself and the world.

However, phenomenology’s transformative power can also operate at a second, deeper level. Insofar as phenomenology is not solely concerned with descriptions of what lived experience is like, but interrogates experience in order to unearth structures, phenomenology involves a methodological maneuver that recontextualizes our relation with experience in a way that is not typically experienced when we are dealing with experience on the first level. Whether this maneuver is Husserl’s epoché, Heidegger’s destructive-hermeneutic analytic of Dasein, Sartre’s unearthing “the being of phenomenon” by descriptively mapping out the parameters of the existential situation (the “phenomenon of being”), or Merleau-Ponty’s expounding the worldly correlates of our bodily flesh, phenomenology involves a methodological re-orientation that, more than simply providing a unique kind of philosophical experience, fundamentally transforms our relation to experience itself.

What I am stressing here is that phenomenology reconstrues our relation to experience by turning it into a special field of philosophical investigation: experience as such and its possibility. By so transforming our relation to experience, the possibility arises not only of securing a whole new source of knowledge (that is, a phenomenological knowledge that would simply exist alongside the forms that concern objects found in experience). Rather, what we discover about ourselves and the world can bring about a change in how our experience of the world at the first level is to be understood, and so potentially motivate us to transform the very way we occupy or navigate such a world.

That what phenomenology interrogates is experience as such and its possibility nicely leads to a discussion regarding the all-important second feature of phenomenology ((2) outlined above): that its main aim is to disclose the structures of experience. Indeed, thinkers like Husserl, Heidegger, Sartre, and Merleau-Ponty have provided different philosophical accounts regarding how exactly it is that phenomenological structures are to be understood (coming down differently on issues such as how it is the structures and what they structure is to be conceived of, the basis or ultimately ground of such structures, the connection between the structures and ontology, etc.). However, each of these phenomenologists are committed to the phenomenological discovery of structures, where these structures are supposed to account for how certain experiences are possible or, more fundamentally, the very possibility of experience.

Fanon and Phenomenology

Phenomenology takes up the task, arguably first initiated and pursued by thinkers like Descartes and Kant, of expounding the conditions of the possibility of experience, where this is to be understood as expounding the a priori conditions of possibility that allow for there to be something like experience as such and without which there would be no experience (and not just the absence of this or that experience). Whether it is such structures as the intentional nature of consciousness or the unity of apperception in Husserl, “attunement” in Heidegger, the “Look” which Sartre’s argues defines our being with others or Merleau-Ponty’s account of the objectivizing structure of perception, phenomenology aims to reveal the fundamental structures that allow for experience (e.g., intentionality, temporality, affectivity, intersubjectivity, perception, language, etc.) and which enables us to navigate the world.

Now, to a certain extent, many of the contributors to Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology recognize that the search for such structure is the ultimate aim of phenomenology and that Fanon provides his descriptions of experience in order to ultimately reveal such structure. Miraj. U. Desai, for instance, proposes to read Fanon “phenomenologically,” where this involves, crucially, an “attention to structure”: namely, the “invariant” structures that Fanon himself claims to have discovered in Black Skin, White Masks and which Desai’s article proposes to unearth and interrogate anew (2022, p. 75).

However, it is worth noting that when it comes to actually saying something about these structures, Desai (1) narrowly conceives of them as structures that underlie and make possible particular ways of engaging with objects found in experience (specifically, Desai has in mind the experience of creating an artwork or composing a piece of writing) and (2) identifies phenomenological structures with a range of material determinates (historical, social, political and even geographical) that create personal identity, without clarifying in what sense these determinates are “invariant” or what (if anything) they have in common or how they might work together to make experience possible (Ibid., p. 74). The result is that the account of structure here remains merely at the level of objects of experience and the generation of particular sorts of psychological states, without clarifying the nature of the “invariant” conditions that would underpin these very material determinates. Consider the following passage:

            Fanon’s greatest originality came from examining colonialism via the lens of         psychopathology and personal identity via the lens of colonial violence. Hook (2005, 2012) articulated Fanon’s ‘materialist psychology’ that demonstrated how racist  encounters and gazes strip away a person’s embodied subjectivity and resources for personal and cultural identity … social ills like pov­erty, antisemitism, racism, and colonialism [are not to be] minimized to mere mental states. As was suggested above, Fanonian investigations necessarily connected psychological structures to political,  socioeconomic, and geographical ones. (Ibid., p. 80)

To be perfectly clear: Fanon is keen to demonstrate that various social-historical determinates structure experience and lie at the basis of our psychology and personal identity, as well as bring into being different forms of psychopathology. Additionally, phenomenology can be concerned with the structures that inform particular kinds of intentional states and show how concrete, material reality provides intentionality with the matter to occasion its various states. However, at the deepest level, these structural determinates are not to be understood, following Derek Hook’s interpretation (which Desai quotes approvingly above), in straightforward materialist terms. If Fanon was simply interested in straightforwardly enumerating the material conditions that create our identities in a particular social-historical situation, then (1) his account would be far too specific (and so lack the necessary “invariance”) to be strictly phenomenological, and (2) would risk eliding the phenomenological task of articulating the structural conditions that underlie, inform, and govern any and all instances of material reality. Indeed, as Nelson Maldonado Torres points out, the more basic structures that phenomenologists seek to discover—e.g., embodiment, intersubjectivity, language, etc.—are what make possible our very experience of “being,” regardless of its material makeup in any given point in history or social organization:

            [Specific] cultural and structural analyses are not enough to [exhaustively] explore the … formation of subjectivity … and [in particular] of [phenomenological] structures. For this, Fanon takes a philosophical approach that considers … the formation of subjectiv­ity  as subjects relate to basic aspects of human experience: embodiment, intersubjective contact (via language and love), time, and space … Time, space, embodied subjectivity, and intersubjectivity play a key role in the formation of what is often defined as Being. (Ibid., p. 91)

A Torres stresses, these deep phenomenological structures cannot be straightforwardly identified with concrete material conditions. If Fanon’s descriptions of his lived experience are to be understood “phenomenologically,” then the relation between the phenomenological structure and material reality, as well as the sense in which the latter relate to the former, needs to be exhibited.

If a materialist interpretation of Fanonian structural determinates overlooks and presupposes the fundamental structures that his phenomenology is after, then a Hegelian account also fails to help us see what Fanon is up to. First, Fanon does not conceive of the discovery of phenomenological structure as the outcome of a dialectical process whereby consciousness’ one-sided descriptions of thought/being continually force it to reconstrue itself until it is resolved in identity. Second, for Fanon, capturing the basic phenomenological structures does not necessarily result in consciousness that is capable of overcoming its alienation from being—especially, if overcoming alienation does not simply involve consciousness’ overcoming of its distinction from being, but, ultimately, forms of social alienation and oppression. Consider the following passages from Jean Khalfa and Lou Tuner:

 Black Skin, White Masks could be read as a phenomenology of the colonized   consciousness. ‘Phenomenology’ in a Hegelian sense first: It is the narration of the various stations and figures of consciousness through which mind, in history at large as well as in the history of an individual, first experiences and then endeavors to resolve    the various forms of its own alienation. (Ibid., p. 49)

[Hegel allows us to see that] the ‘fact’ of Fanon’s ‘black skin’… doesn’t remain at the  level of perception, but is instead elevated, in the sense of its determination to appear,  and reflected back in the look of the very subject whose bodily schema had been       racialized. Internal intuition breaks down the ontology of the colonial or racialized situation into a process of becoming wherein the inherent defects of the Manichean  world are also [to quote Hegel] ‘endowed with the impulse of self-development’ … This, in Fanon’s terms, represents the agency of the Negro, or that which becomes the revolutionary process of decolonization in his later works. Internal intuition, in short, is the method and means by which Fanon’s comprehension of the ‘colonial situation’  entails both the logic of its existence, i.e., its phenomenology, and the dialectic of its    overcoming. (Ibid., p. 68)

Although these two scholars draw on very different aspects of Hegel, they are both in agreement that Fanon’s phenomenology should be understood in a Hegelian register. The passages suggest that (1) consciousness in Fanon (or rather a particular form of consciousness, colonized consciousness) will work through various stages until it grasps its experience and, moreover, (2) this process will occasion consciousness’ to overcoming its social alienation, which is to say, that there is an impulse to (revolutionary) self-development built into this process.  

Although what consciousness’ comes to learn about its experience by the end of the Phenomenology of Spirit may overlap in certain respects with Black Skin, White Masks (e.g., it may be the case that, say, what we now call discourse is essential dimension of consciousness’ grasp of the world, including how we interpret skin color), the specific way Fanon reveals these structures via phenomenological description, however, bears little to no resemblance to Hegel’s progressive, dialectical account of consciousness’ overcoming its alienation. What is more, coming to knowledge of phenomenological structures for Fanon does not necessarily awaken in consciousness an impulse, much less a social-political program, to achieve recognition of other subjects.

While Fanon certainly argues that colonial situations are unacceptable and ought and can be transformed, he is not committed to the idea that his phenomenological depictions of the colonized subject’s experience are necessarily “endowed with the impulse of self-development.” Indeed, it may be the case that recognizing the structures that underpin experience as such may give us clues or suggest strategies as to how we can bring about such a transformation (e.g., new forms of representation, the reconsidering of language and its importance). However, there is no clear connection between unearthing phenomenological structures and the transforming of the cultural coordinates that imprison consciousness in certain pernicious social forms and self-conceptions. Indeed, it is entirely possible that a transformation of the culture or political situation informed by a knowledge of its underlying structures may come to imprison subjects in new pernicious forms.

Body and Discourse

If Fanon’s phenomenology is not limited to shedding light on a particular material, social-political set up and what it is like to live in such a set up (with its forms of social and political oppressions and accompanying pathologies), but attempts to lay bare the underlying structural conditions that make experience possible (a knowledge that does not necessarily point in any straightforward manner the way to overcoming an intolerable social-political situation), then what exactly is his contribution to this field of knowledge? And what, if any, are the ramifications or consequences this phenomenological account has for politics (broadly construed) if it doesn’t tell us how to overcome social and political forms of alienation and oppression?

These are big questions to tackle, and I will certainly not be able to provide satisfying answers here, especially when it comes to the thorny issue regarding the relation between phenomenology and politics. However, I think an answer to the first question begins to take shape by taking a look at how some of the contributors to Fanon, Phenomenology, and Psychology helpfully characterize Fanon’s account of two inter-related phenomenological structures in particular: the body and discourse.   

Fanon is certainly not the first phenomenologist to make the case that the body is to be counted amongst the transcendental conditions of experience. Husserl, Sartre, de Beauvoir and, of course, Merleau-Ponty each have offered accounts of the body and its role in structuring the world. More than any other phenomenologist, however, it is clearly Merleau-Ponty that has cast the greatest shadow over Fanon’s thinking about the body. This influence comes through in the very conceptual tools Fanon uses to articulate his insights, as well as in the way scholars depict Fanon’s account of living in a black body under a system of colonialism. Consider the following passages from Jean Khalfa, Derek Hook and Athena V. Coleman:

[T]he body [is] not only … a thing within the world but also as a ‘posture’ or as a condition for a primordial interrogative relationship to the world, a condition for the constitution of the given as world … The system of racism leads to the real loss of    this interrogative body, revealed by phenomenology, which is instantly turned into a thing. (p. 49-51)

            In the white world the man of color encounters difficulties in the development of his  bodily schema … the black man suffers from his body quite differently from the white     man. (p. 117)

In contrast to the universality of the corporeal schema, Fanon discovers a multiplicity of   schemas that shape those subjects and moments excluded by the corporeal schema …     Fanon’s rereading of phenomenology and psychology opens up the question of [what is responsible for] structuring schemas, which structures … our connections to others. (p. 133)

The main idea is that Fanon, following Merleau-Ponty, is committed to the idea that the body plays a structural role in making our experience of the world possible. The body, understood along these lines, is not to be strictly identified with a thing or with anything thing-like. Things are found in or occupy the world opened up by the body. “Corporeal schema” (sometimes translated as “body schema” or “bodily schema”) is Merleau-Ponty’s term for the fundamental “posture” of bodily being that allows for an openness to the world insofar as it enables an array of possible movements and mobilizing projects that extend from us to our surroundings; a pre-reflective structure that lets the world meaningfully appear as the bodily correlate we competently navigate and in which we discover things that we can seamlessly take up and utilize (“interrogate”).

But not only that. This structure, as condition opens us to a world and lets it be experienced, also opens us up to and exposes us to others, that is to say, to the perspective of other similarly constituted bodily beings. To claim then that Fanon’s account of the black body under colonialism demonstrates (1) that the corporeal schema encounters difficulties in its development, and (2) that the bodily perspective that, fundamentally, opens up the world of things is itself made thing-like, is to draw attention to one of the main conclusions of Black Skin, White Masks: the body, or more precisely, the corporeal schema, despite being a condition of possibility of having a world, cannot be straightforwardly universalized.

It is here that the bodily schema needs to be seen as bound up with another condition of possibility: discourse. Although bodily being is pre-reflective in that the bodily integration and engagement with our surroundings does not necessarily involve the intellectual contribution thinkers such as Kant and Husserl would ascribe to it, the body is in each case bound up with a particular discursive context that delimits and shapes the body’s mobilizing projects. “Discourse,” as I am using the term here, is not limited to the linguistic or conceptual; it does not simply refer to a societies’ possibilities of talking or thinking. It extends to the material deposits of a greater symbolic order: images, spatial arrangements, print media, as well as gestures, comportments and other forms of social signifying all contribute to discourse.

Fanon’s idea is that the discursive milieu established by colonialism – with its binaries, asymmetries, and exclusions – ends up carving up, categorizing and segregating bodies along the lines of colonized/colonized or black/white. This comes to be internalized not only at the level of individual psychologies or self-conceptions, but actually informs the very way bodies come to orient themselves and establish relations with things and people in space. Specifically, the black body, having its exploration of space be in each case mediated through an awareness of how it stands vis-à-vis a white world and its occupants – an awareness, mind you, that does not necessary extend in the other direction. The result is not only that the possibilities for bodily exploration and usage are frustrated or limiting, but continually forced to fold back on itself in consideration of a hostile, yet mostly indifferent, white other. As Helen Ngo puts it:

[R]acism not only becomes interiorized but ‘epidermalized’- or in phenomenological  terms, lived and inhabited bodily … embodiment becomes marked by a kind of bodily schema fragmentation … Everything is anticipated, thought out, demonstrated, made the most of. (p. 194-5)

Indeed, Fanon not only uses his phenomenology to put pressure on the notion of a universal bodily schema, his descriptions of bodily being under colonialism also call into question how it is we should characterize the struggle for recognition: to be for the other as fellow subject and not object or thing. The black body is forced to continually turn its gaze back on itself insofar as its bodily being is one that is shaped through a discursive context that forces it to consider itself in relation to a white other that does not repay it in kind. Everything from lighting a cigarette to finding a seat on a bus becomes conditioned by the asymmetrical colonial relationship that reifies the colonized black as it acknowledges the white. Under such social-political conditions, the struggle to be recognized as a subject via the other is not characterized by the unfolding of any sort of progressive logic, but is already predetermined at a level of the body and its worldly conditioning. The discourse of colonialism seemingly precludes the very possibility that the colonized can initiate a relation between subjects with the colonizer. As Lewis R. Gordan nicely puts this point:

[The] racialized schema below the [vicissitudes and outcomes of the] Hegelian [lordship/bondage relation] addresses contradictions that are not of a dialectical kind. The call for [a distinctly] Black Consciousness already demands addressing a ‘lived reality’ … but one that has not been acknowledged as such … The consequence is the retort: At least the other is an other. To become such initiates ethical relations. (p. 223)

Íngrid Vendrell Ferran (Ed.): Else Voigtländer: Self, Emotion, and Sociality, Springer, 2023

Else Voigtländer: Self, Emotion, and Sociality Book Cover Else Voigtländer: Self, Emotion, and Sociality
Íngrid Vendrell Ferran
Springer
2023
Hardback
IX, 245

Reviewed by: Konstantin Hokamp (Europa Universität Viadrina)

In many ways, the volume edited by Ingríd Vendrell Ferran is seemingly set up for failure. That is by no means due to the illustrious list of contributors or the importance of its subject matter, but rather due to the tasks it sets out to achieve – providing a building block towards a „new genealogy” of phenomenology by shining light on the life, philosophical and psychological work, and politics of a little-known figure in the history of phenomenology – Else Voigtländer. As Ferran states in the introduction to the volume, while scholarly efforts have been made to highlight the contribution of women to the history of phenomenology those efforts have been focused on Edith Stein and Hedwig Conrad-Martius. Fittingly, almost everyone who has worked on Voigtländer in recent years contributed to the volume.

Vendrell Ferran hypothesizes that this might very well be linked to two factors among others: Voigtländer did not pursue an academic career after her PhD and as a very early figure in the Phenomenological Movement is rarely cited in the work of other phenomenologists, despite being among the first to publish on the topic of Ressentiment inauthentic feelings. She was omitted from Herbert Spiegelbergs canon-building work History of the Phenomenological Movement and has thus received little attention, even though almost all her work is publicly available in a digital format. The caveat being that there are no English translations.

The volume aims to contribute to rewriting the phenomenological canon and give readers a good entryway into Voigtländer’s thought while dealing with the fact that as an NSDAP member and director of the women’s prison Waldheim, Voigtländer seems like a problematic political figure to say the least. All these goals by themselves are desiderata for the history of phenomenology and the history of Women in the history of Philosophy and Sciences (The Series the volume is published in). They might be too much to achieve in a single volume, but they do make for a good one with a broad range of topics and readings of Voigtländer.

The book is structured in four parts with expert contributions on key aspects of Voigtländers philosophy. The first part is made up of only two articles, while all the other comprise three contributions.The volume is  opened by an article-length introduction by Ingrid-Vendrell Ferran that highlights the themes I laid out and gives an outline of Else Voigtländer’s Life and key philosophical themes and concepts. Ferran stresses the importance of including the Munich School of Phenomenology in research on the history of Phenomenology and the current state of Voigtländer research and sources on Voigtländer. She does a brilliant job juxtaposing Voigtländers published articles with archival evidence, such as her PHD report and correspondence. Only the information on the latter could have been slightly more precise. While the article seems to indicate that there are numerous letters to be found, the known correspondence with Ludwig Klages is limited to a letter by Klages on an editorial issue [cf. DLA Marbach A:Klages, the contents of Letters in the Klages collection may not be publicized at this point], which is likely also the case for her correspondence with Kippenberg which I was not able to access.

Part I: Sources and Influences

The first of four parts engages with Voigtländer’s work by dealing with two „sources and influences”. In „Value in Existence: Lotze, Lipps and Voigtländer on Feelings of Self-Worth” Philipp Schmidt compares Voigtländer notion of Self-Feeling to that of Hermann Lotze and her PhD supervisor Theodor Lipps who both held the position that self-experience is grounded in a feeling of some sorts. He concludes that Voigtländer was largely able to develop her notion of self-feelings by drawing on ideas from the Romantic philosopher C.G. Carus and Friedrich Nietzsche and combining them with the insights of Lotze and Lipps. He reconstructs Lotze’s theory as highlighting the importance of feelings of pleasure and pain as motivators for self-interest, while Lipps broadened the range of what qualifies as a feeling with an emphasis on the fact, that feelings are differentiated from other psychic phenomena by emphasizing that feelings directly constitute the self. He introduces the term ‘Selbstgefühl’ but is unclear on whether they are the result of conscious deliberation or a form of pre-reflective self-appraisal. Schmidt then introduces and explains Voigtländer’s theory of self-feelings as a stratified pre-reflective form of consciousness, that is largely determined by a person’s biological constitution but also subject to intersubjective determining factors like the judgment of others. He then goes on to argue that Voigtländer would not have been able to arrive at this position without drawing on a Nietzschean value-relativism and a vitalistic notion of unconscious life force similar to the Lebensphilosophie of Ludwig Klages and Carl-Gustav Carus. He does so both to indicate the originality of Voigtländers proposal as well as a warning sign against integrating her theory into the canon of phenomenologically informed theories that stress the importance of the affective sphere for cognition all too quickly because the vitalist intuitions undergirding it are closely linked to the development of racial psychology.

The second entry by practising psychoanalyst Thomas Barth attempts to reconstruct Else Voigtländer’s relationship with and impact on psychoanalysis.

Voigtänder was the first German academic psychologist to publish a paper on Freud in 1911, received a letter in return and was a member of the Berlin Local group of the International Psychoanalytic Association from 1912 to 1915. After leaving the group she went on to publish a paper on the notion of unconsciousness in 1916 and dealt with psychoanalysis yet again in a 1928 paper on welfare education in which she highlighted the potential benefits of psychoanalysis. From a critical note regarding Freud‘s lacking appreciation of the importance of innate character to a dismissal of anything unconscious that cannot become unconscious to a recommendation of giving welfare education staff psychoanalytic training Barth reconstructs how Voigtländer „met psychoanalysis with appreciation, ambiguity, and sometimes harsh criticism.” (59) He then goes on to outline the reactions of psychoanalysts to Voigtländers articles as well as speculatively drawing parallels between Voigtländers thought and later developments in psychoanalysis, indicating a potential parallel between her notion of inauthentic mirror-self feelings likening them to notions of Winnicott, Lacan and Helene Deutsch. His final verdict is that Voigtländer mainly used Psychoanalysis to serve as a negative foil to assess her theories and outlines further opportunities for research. One aspect of Voigtländers relationship to Freud that might have been highlighted yet is missing is the analysis Willy Haas, a fellow student of Theodor Lipps who also potentially drew on psychoanalytic concepts yet never explicitly named psychoanalysis as a source in his disserting underwent with Freud. Barth refers to Ulrike May’s work on the subject but unfortunately does not draw a parallel. It is only a minor omission but one that could easily have been avoided.

Part II: Affectivity and Value

The second part focuses on a central theme of many early phenomenologists and works towards the goal of the new genealogy by contrasting Voigtländer’s theory of sentiments with that of Alexander Pfänder and Gerda Walther and her take on Ressentiment, a topic she was the first phenomenologist to publish on with those of Max Scheler and Adolf Reinach. In addition, an entire article is dedicated to the systematic importance of Voigtländer’s view on erotic love. It partially overlaps with the article on sentiments but delves deeper into its subject matter.

Genki Uemura attempts to reconstruct Voigtländer’s analysis of benevolence in her 1931 contribution to a Festschrift for Pfänder „Bemerkungen zur Psychologie der Gesinnungen” and compares it to the phenomenological analysis Alexander Pfänder provides in his 1913/1916 work on the subject. He reads Voigtländer as saying that contrary to Pfänder’s view positive sentiments – a term Pfänder uses rather unusually to talk about other-directed evaluative affective phenomena like love and hate or benevolence or malevolence – are made into a category of their own exclusively by features of their respective centrifugal streams of feeling, while their respective acts of unification (Vereinigung) and position-taking vary greatly. While love always entails an attraction to its object, an interest (Anteilnahme) in the affirmation, both are missing for benevolence. Uemura then goes on to argue, that this does not pose a problem for Pfänder’s analysis of actual sentiments but might well be problematic for his theory of non-actual sentiments. Uemura stresses that Voigtländer arrives at these conclusions while staying true to the methodological commitments of Pfänder. He then compares Voigtländer’s position to that of Gerda Walther who takes the unification found in positive sentiments as a fundamental building factor for social communities. He suggests that to most plausibly incorporate Voigtländer’s strong differentiation between love and positive sentiments Walther would have to contend that only love plays this foundational role while other positive sentiments do not. Thereby Uemura wants to show the originality of Voigtländers without claiming that it was intended as an intentional criticism of her contemporaries.

Toru Yaegashi in his more systematic approach aims to develop Voigtländers views on erotic love that Voigtländer criticizing Simmel, strongly differentiates from sexual desire. She holds the sphere of the erotic to be fully distinct from that of the sexual and argues for a phenomenological separability of sexual love and erotic love even in heterosexual relationships. Yaegashi reconstructs Voigtländer’s view on the difference between love and benevolence much in the same way Uemura does but adds that love and hate are less reactive than benevolence and malevolence which tend to fade away once the situation that motivated them has passed. He then goes on to elaborate on the object side of love – the value of the loved object, aiming to work out Voigtländers position in the debate on value realism by comparing her view to that of Dietrich von Hildebrand and Max Scheler – the staunches value realists among the early phenomenologists whose position she reconstructs as being that „we sometimes love correctly and sometimes incorrectly the object whose value is independent of our love”. (94) Voigtländer on the other hand argues, that there are cases, where no value of the beloved is given in experience while love itself is experienced. She differentiates between the qualitative value an object has and three kinds of value bestowed on the object by love. By differentiating these kinds of values, Voigtländer can criticise a rationalization of the idealization involved in love as well as develop a concept of genuine love that acknowledges the flaws of the beloved. Yaegashi concludes that Voigtländer’s forgotten phenomenology of erotic love is both interesting in contrast to the late Husserl’s more ethicized view of love and that it may well prove productive in dialogue with Feminist Philosophy and queer theory because it goes against the grain of connecting love with its reproductive function.

[Both contributions are exquisitely structured and argued and reconstruct Voigtländer’s position quite well. Yet they both could have paid closer attention to Pfänder’s text and especially his position on the necessity of non-actual sentiments and of non-actual love for the continued existence of actual sentiments. This is especially true for Uemura who directly refers to Pfänder’s notion and would have been an interesting way to highlight the differences between Pfänder’s and Walther’s theory.]

Ingríd Vendrell Ferran contributes a text on the Phenomena of Ressentiment and Self-Deception in the works of Else Voigtländer, who was the first phenomenologist to publish on the subject in her 1910 dissertation, Max Scheler who published Über Ressentiment und moralisches Werturteil (unfortunately referred to by the title of a slightly reversed 1915 version „Das Ressentiment im Aufbau der Moralen”) in 1912 and Adolf Reinach who worked on the subject in his Grundzüge der Ethik (1913). She first reconstructs the individual positions and then compares them with a focus on the origins of Ressentiment, its ontology (105) the psychological mechanisms responsible for it. For Voigtländer, Ressentiment occurs due to a person experiencing a lack in her vital self-feeling (the part of the pre-reflective self-consciousness outlined above that is due to the biological constitution) by devaluing others to improve her conscious feeling of self-worth. She reconstructs this as Ressentiment being an „affective background orientation whose main target is the self and which aims at compensating a weakness with an exaggerated, modified and unrealistic self-assessment.” (107) In conceptualizing the process Voigtländer follows Nietzsche by understanding it as involving both a modification of perceived affective states and value experiences and changes in the attention towards the objects of Ressentiment. She also holds that some form of knowledge of the object of Ressentiment’s value remains present. Vendrell Ferran then reconstructs Scheler’s position on Ressentiment as a mental disposition that may turn into a character trait (and not an emotion) resulting from a process, more thoroughly described than in Voigtländer of repression of hostile affective attitudes. She then contrasts it with Reinach, who also viewed Ressentiment as a compensation mechanism for a felt diminishment of the self, that changes the way a subject apprehends values. She then goes on to put the key position of the three early phenomenologists in dialogue with the current literature on the subject. She finds similarities with the Schelerian view (or maybe just his longer elaboration on the ressentiment process) on the etiology of Ressentiment. Current literature usually conceptualizes Ressentiment as a sentiment, which Ferran, following the early phenomenologists, argues to be an inadequate description. Finally, she stresses the importance of the early phenomenologists work for adequately understanding Ressentiment as a non-intentional process leading to self-deception.

Part III: Social Self and Character

The first of three articles in this Salice on Social Self-Feelings gives a slightly different reconstruction of Voigtländer’s theory of self-feelings and criticizes her harsh verdict on inauthentic self-feeling. The second article goes back to evaluating Voigtländer’s notion of inauthentic self-feelings in the light of Voigtländer’s later work. The third article gives a historical overview of different conceptions of character.

Allesandro Sallice first reconstructs Voigtländers theory of self-feelings in general, slightly diverging from other readings by stressing that there is only one ever-shifting vital-self feeling and proposing that her taxonomy is merely a taxonomy of different manifestations of the same vital self-feeling in different situations. He does agree that there are different kinds of conscious self-feelings, which are purely episodic. He differentiates the two types of self-feeling on the phenomenological level by indicating that Voigtländer seems to hold that there is an emphasis on the affective side for the vital self-feeling(s) while there is an emphasis on the side of value judgement for the conscious self-feelings. There is also a difference in intentionality: The object of vital self-feeling is the not truly objectifiable self, while the object of conscious self-feelings is the objectified self.

This leads Salice to criticise Voigtländers notion of inauthentic self-feelings, which he takes to be both morally and epistemically negatively connotated. Against this, he argues that there are indeed cases where the judgement of others is more (or at least not less) reliable than our self-feelings. Yet he holds, that Voigtländer’s theory anticipated contemporary debates on self-knowledge and, given proper scrutiny on the points he criticizes, is highly relevant for modern-day research.

Hilge Landweer’s contribution touches on similar points as Salice’s and is both slightly more critical towards and more favourable to Voigtländer. Landweer praises Voigtländers rich descriptions and agrees with Salice on the fact that Voigtländer seems to negatively evaluate mirror self-feelings (a term Landweer prefers to authentic self-feelings) but problematizes a different aspect – Voigtländer’s notion of an authentic self. Her main point of interest is however the 11-page 1923 text Über die Art eines Menschen und das Erlebnis der Maske in which Voigtländer remains true to her notion of the core of persons but increases the complexity of her understanding of ‘authentic’ and ‘inauthentic’ by turning towards the subject of how the manner of a person – namely the way she appears to others and how this feels to her – while never explicitly rejecting the view held in the dissertation. According to Landweer Voigtländer implicitly holds a topological understanding of personhood, according to which authentic self-feelings are „anchored in the ‘core’  of the person with inauthenticity increasing the further one moves away from this core” with the opinions of others forming the outermost strata. The manner of a person is comprised of both authentic and inauthentic as well as genuine (in the sense of true) and non-genuine actions which others hold to be characteristic of that person. Landweer concludes that the two sets of terms are not mutually interchangeable. Non-genuine self-feelings and actions are always the effects of conscious or unconscious dissimulation while non-authentic self-feelings rely on the impressions of others. Landweer considers the distinction between genuine and non-genuine self-feelings to be systematically interesting albeit needing conceptual clarification. She goes on to problematize the metaphor of the core, suggests a relational reading for it and finally proposes an updated, less normative and fluid reading of Voigtländers concept informed by Heidegger’s notion of inauthenticity. In her view, Heidegger clearly stated what manifests as an implicit tension in Voigtländers theory and rich phenomenological descriptions: The fact that the authentic and inauthentic are never fully separable.

Guillaume Frechette approaches Voigtländers’s theory of self-feelings more historically by situating it within the sub-discipline of characterology, the systematic study of personality. A field to which Voigtländer considered herself to be contributing. He contrasts what he calls the „Austrian Account” (e.g. 168) of character traits originating in the work of Franz Brentano and later developed by Emil Utitz and Kraus. He reconstructs it as conceptualizing character traits as mental dispositions to act in specific ways in certain situations and take pleasure in acting that way, which entails that character traits can only ever be hypothesized about. [Critique because of the failure to capture enduring states] He contrasts with the view prevalent of phenomenology, which he considers Voigtländer to be exemplary for. Frechett stresses Voigtländer’s method is based on the thesis that the essence of a person’s personality can be intuited from her realistic mask, a view he attributes to Alexander Pfänder based on lecture notes by Voigtländer fellow student Johannes Daubert. He tries to reconstruct Voigtländers epistemology of self-feelings based on a Lippsian notion of Einfühlung [„courageousness is simply expressed in corresponding gestures, and you get to feel courageousness by perceiving these gestures”] (173) and the thesis that individuals have privileged access to themselves. Frechette finds merit in both theories, holding that the Austrian Account is more economical while failing to accommodate character traits like being anxious which are closer to emotional phenomena. Frechette pleads for furthering the phenomenological analysis and not reducing character traits to either of the two accounts. In a longer piece on the issue, it could have proven very fruitful to look at the work of Alexander Pfänder on characterology (scattered through notes in the Pfänder Nachlass) and address Voigtländer’s thesis of the stratification of self-feelings in relation to her characterology.

Part IV – Gender and Politics

The last part of the volume is devoted to Voigtländer as a theorist of gender, politics and as a political actor and the contributions do justice to the complexity of the subject by the variety of their approaches, ranging from a focus on her views on gender, her applied philosophy, and her life as a political actor.

Ute Gahlings opts for rewriting the history of phenomenological approaches to gender, replacing Edith Stein with Else Voigtländer as the pioneer of the field, drawing on texts written by Voigtländer after she had completed her dissertation and – not being permitted to pursue an academic career as a woman – moving towards psychology as her specific field. She reconstructs the points on gender made in an experimental study that Voigtländer conducted with Fritz Giese and three texts co-authored by Voigtländer and Adalbert Gregor, the latter of which contain both strong statements confirming sexual differentiation as well as a few subtle observations on the female experience. Gahlings indicates that the relationship between Voigtländer and Gregor still needs to be researched further and points towards Voigtländers contributions to a dictionary and journal of sexual science as the best source for Voigtländers views on gender, painting a picture of Voigtländers statements as „the awakening of a gender theory which is differentiating between sex and gender” (187), dealing with epistemological issues regarding how gender difference may be addressed, rejecting metaphysical constructions as the base of sexual difference and opting instead for a culture-based approach. Gahlinger then goes on to reconstruct the views of Edith Stein, which according to here were founded not in psychology but philosophical anthropology and with a more ethically driven impetus and leaning slightly more towards essentialism than Voigtländer’s. She pleads for including Voigtländer in „the canon of classical writings” (195) while calling into question how Voigtländers’s critical mind could have served under the Nazis.

Sophie Loidoldt and Petra Gehring find less inconsistency here than Gahling.  They evaluate  Voigtländer’s application of her psychology of character in a study on mass psychology, a text written together with Adalbert Gregor on the relation between gender and neglect as well as a talk on the problem of gender difference based on her contributions to the Dictionary of Sexual Studies. The article is polemical in tone, stating that the text on mass psychology is „a miserable failure” (205) judging by Voigtländer’s self-proclaimed standard of value-neutrality. They instead diagnose a vulgar Nietzschean preference for vital values and authoritarian politics, while being unable to clearly explain how the political views she criticizes connect to the character of those she judges and resorting to cliché-laden racial psychology in the end. (208) They have much the same verdict on the article written with Gregor, criticizing that her value-neutral approach is perfectly compatible with sterilization practices. Additionally, they take Voigtländer to be, essentializing gendered traits despite arguing against metaphysical essentialism. The evaluation leads to the conclusion that „not every theory of difference that is not immediately and obviously sexist, is therefore already emancipatory” (219), concluding that there is at the very least no logical discontinuity between Voigtländers theoretical work and her position in the NSDAP regime.

George Heffernan bookends the section reader with a more positivistic approach to Else Voigtländers politics starting with textual evidence from her dissertation and giving more context to her work on mass hysteria written in 1920 from the standpoint of a member of the German National Party, her nationalist family background as well as her work with racial-hygienicist Adalbert Grego. He then fills out a missing link in the evaluation of Voigtländer by carefully compiling reports on her performance as director at the women’s prison of Waldheim as well as the official documents regarding her NSDAP membership and contributions to party organizations.  Based on his sources, which cannot be given justice to within the scope of this review, he arrices at the preliminary verdict that „Voigtländer was, if not an enthusiastic or a fanatical Nazi, a reliable Mitläuferin and Unterstützerin of the National Socialist Regime.” (237)

Heffernan’s text makes for a fitting ending to a volume that shows that Voigtländer merits scholarly attention as an original contributor to the philosophy of emotions and personality and a historical figure that may be seen as exemplary for her time. For readers not familiar with Voigtländer’s work a differently structured approach to the compilation of texts might have been beneficial, seeing as especially the section on sources and influences already lays the groundwork for some of the more critical approaches in the latter sections, yet there is no indication that that is the case. The structure of the individual parts leaves little to be desired, providing the reader with a plurality of perspectives on Voigtländer’s philosophy, juxtaposing more historically oriented and more systematic approaches. The contriubutions touch on all key aspects, with the rather unfortunate but understandable exception of her work on the aesthetics of nature in the short text Zur Phänomenologie und Psychologie des alpinen Erlebnisses. I have outlined a few interesting points for further inquiry in my summary of the individual articles, but there are numerous more to be found.

The volume’s biggest problem is due to the state of Voigtländer research. There are no standard translations for essential terms in Voigtländer’s philosophy. That makes it somewhat harder to put some of the contributions in dialogue. That is hardly the fault of the contributors and only serves to underline Vendrell-Ferrran’s plea for an English translation of Voigtländer’s works in the introduction. The volume is invaluable for anybody who wants to engage with the history of phenomenology in general or Else Voigtländer in particular.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Andrew Feenberg The Ruthless Critique of Everything Existing: Nature and Revolution in Marcuse’s Philosophy of Praxis

The Ruthless Critique of Everything Existing Book Cover The Ruthless Critique of Everything Existing
Andrew Feenberg
Verso Books
2023
Paperback
256

Reviewed by: Dana S. Belu (California State University)

 

The new sensibility, which expresses the ascent of the life instincts over aggressiveness and guilt, would foster, on a social scale, the vital need for the abolition of injustice and misery and would shape the further evolution of the standard of living.” (Marcuse, Essay on Liberation)

 

Andrew Feenberg’s The Ruthless Critique of Everything Existing: Nature and Revolution in Marcuse’s Philosophy of Praxis is a tour de force of Marcuse’s philosophy. It is multilayered and dives deep into the phenomenological-existential dimensions of Marcuse’s work. The book is energetic, ambitious and offers timely insights into the nature of technological rationality as the origin of the current environmental crisis.

The first chapter takes the reader through Feenberg’s personal reminiscences of his professor at UCSD and then on the frontlines of the May 1968 events in Paris. One gets the sense of a continuity between Marcuse’s personal values and his political and philosophical commitments. His integrity underscored his philosophy and endeared him to his students. Chapters two through six switch gears from the personal to the philosophical and weave a complex Marxist, psychoanalytic and phenomenological narrative that advocates for a life-affirming socialist rationality, an antidote to the ongoing hegemony of technological rationality. Marcuse is cast as the philosophical forerunner of the environmental movement and other social justice movements. I will focus on chapters five and six where Feenberg explicitly takes up the relationship between Marcuse’s and Heidegger’s critiques of technological rationality and expands Marcuse’s proposal for overcoming it through the aesthetic cultivation of a life affirming form of reason.

In chapters two through four Feenberg explains Marcuse’s appropriation of Hegel, Marx Freud and the early Heidegger. His critique of Marx’s notion of subjectivity is especially significant. While many readers of Marcuse may already be familiar with the influence of psychoanalysis on his thought, the phenomenological legacy is less well known. His focus on the significance of Heidegger’s phenomenology of world (46-56) for Marcuse’s understanding of Marx’s ontology of labor is especially insightful, as he shows how Marcuse concretizes this world as a capitalist world.

Chapter four “The Politics of Eros” revisits Marcuse’s “performance principle” as an alternative to Freud’s reality principle where the repression of pleasure in favor of work is no longer a natural given but is socially determined. The socialist revolution will release the working body from its desexualized dedication to labor. Feenberg should have emphasized that the emphases on labor, technological production and the desexualized “dedication” to work- in equal measure social coercion and individual compulsion – were life denying terrors under communism and not just under capitalism. By the late 1960s Marcuse was critical of the communist regimes in Eastern Europe and China. Including his specific criticisms of communism would have helped to further clarify Marcuse’s proposal by distinguishing it from technological thinking in communist societies. Moreover, noting the difference between a socialist rationality and the rationality at work in contemporary socialist countries (Scandinavian countries) could have helped to further clarify Marcuse’s call for a new aesthetic sensibility and a new concept of reason that corresponds to it.

In Chapter 5:  The Critique of Technology Feenberg clarifies the Marxist, Weberian and Heideggerian legacies in Marcuse’s account of technological rationality, especially in his One Dimensional Man (1964). This chapter does an excellent job of acknowledging many similarities between Heidegger’s “The Question Concerning Technology” and One Dimensional Man, noting similarities in structure and in their phenomenological retrieval of the Greek notion of potentiality versus the denial of potentiality by modern science. Feenberg shows that by privileging quantification, precision and planning, modern science and technological rationality eliminate potential (150-2) Moreover, he shows how Marcuse incorporates Heidegger’s notion of a “ground plan,” a concept developed in “The Age of the World Picture,” and Husserl’s notion of the life world. And by combining phenomenological ontology with Marxism, Marcuse uncovers a political dimension that drives Marcuse’s thinking forward along a path not taken by either Heidegger or Husserl.

With Feenberg’s help, Marcuse can be seen to recast capitalism as a lifeworld defined by  “projection” (Vorhaben), a way of pushing into one’s possibilities, as Heidegger describes it in Being and Time. The futural temporality of technological rationality could have been fruitfully explored in relationship to the other two temporal ekstases discussed in Being and Time, thrownness and falling. (Heidegger 1996, section 68) The existential inertia of falling renders the tendency to conform to what is present (or actual) almost inevitable. This phenomenological-ontological insight supports Marcuse’s capitalist concretization of “projection.” As he shows, under capitalism, the possible collapses into the reproduction of the actual and the same. (158) Furthermore, both capitalism and communism “expose nature to both representation by science and control by technology” (150) so that neither sees nature as a process latent with potentialities. They see it through the lens of technological rationality, as a mere resource for production and modernization.

But here Marcuse’s position seems even closer to the later Heidegger than Feenberg acknowledges. For instance, Marcuse’s call for a critical appraisal of the technical age put him at odds with the technophilic, liberalist and Marxist camps that extolled the virtues of mechanized progress, and with the technologically reactionary camp, the technophobes, who feared technology and called for its banishment. Marcuse’s proposal for a third way beyond this false dilemma echoes Heidegger’s own ontological injunction in “The Question Concerning Technology” (154) that we don’t relate to technology in a reactionary way by either loving it or hating it, seeing it as “the work of the devil.” (Heidegger 1977, 25)  Marcuse’s call for a new beginning or what he calls a new sensibility from within the provenance of art also echoes Heidegger’s call for the saving power of art at the end of “The Question Concerning Technology” and elsewhere. Unlike Marcuse, however, he does not call for the liberation of our repressed subjectivity but for the cultivation of receptivity. Feenberg’s interpretation helps us see how the two calls complement one another.

Like Heidegger, Marcuse insists that technology is not neutral.  The first of his three theses about the non-neutrality of technology claims that technology has become a “total system and a world” that justifies capitalism. (137) The second thesis states that technology is not value neutral because “even though it serves generic ends such as increasing the productivity of labor, their design and application under capitalism imposes top-down control in production and social life generally.” (137) The third thesis states that, “scientific-technical rationality is a priori adapted to the maintenance of social domination.” (137) This echoes Heidegger’s ontological a priori of technology that runs deeper than social domination. It extends its reach into the past and foreseeable future, since it blocks our awareness of technical rationality as a clearing of being, a mode of presencing and the source of this presencing itself.[1]

The extent to which this reduction is a capitalist domination is left undetermined by Heidegger but he is clear that in the technological epoch (or clearing) the potentialities of people and nature are harnessed only to be cut to order, not allowed free expression. For Marcuse, the suppression of potentiality shows up starkly in capitalism’s devastating treatment of nature, the negation of its free potential. (Feenberg 2023, 142) Two prominent examples are mass deforestation for cattle ranching and logging, both of which raise carbon dioxide and, worse, methane levels in the atmosphere. 

 Feenberg sees Marcuse as one of the first environmental philosophers, one who sees in the environmental movement an erotic and life affirming resistance against the destruction of nature. This movement, exemplified today by organizations like 350.org and Extinction Rebellion among many others, discovers marginalized potentials in nature and society. This discovery is not value neutral but projects a world of harmony and peace, potentials that can be seen once we tune in to “creative receptivity instead of repressive productivity.” Creative receptivity is a condition of the promised socialist rationality. In a socialist society, a new erotic reason will harness potentialities without domination. (169, 177) Unfortunately, the emergence of this erotic reason is threatened on all sides by scientific-technological rationality and its offsprings: exploitation, overproduction and control in all sectors of life, including our moral lives.  This rationality replaces normative rationality as every form of injustice and harm is transformed into a problem in search of technological quick fix. (141) Technology then feeds the death drive rather than the erotic drive and so shapes a society based on competition or strife, essentially a violent society that subordinates most values to the value of profit making. (125) Like Heidegger, Marcuse sees scientific-technological rationality “as complicit in the concentration campus, atom bombs and media propaganda – all the disasters of the twentieth century.” (Feenberg 2023, 148) He sees them as the materialization of life-denying capitalist values. However, contra Heidegger, who dismisses values as subjective, Marcuse recasts values as “objective realities that guide technical practice.” (153) He disagrees with his former teacher that values are technological products that merely “correlate” with technology. Marcuse is less abstract, more philosophically granular. He analyzes actual “social procedures that reduce potentialities to values, to operational components in the bureaucratic and technical systems of capitalism… [and shows that] certain values have a transitive content indicating the blocked potentialities of the society.” (154, my insert)

Marcuse’s profound insight, according to Feenberg, is that only dialectical logic (not formal or transcendental logic) works with substantive or social universals to reveal the bias of formal reason at work in technical rationality. Feenberg’s exposition of this non-neutrality of formal reason is one of the most innovative and exciting contributions of the book, especially for phenomenology and critical theory.  As Feenberg explains it, social universals such as peace, freedom and justice (161) among others, have meanings (essences) that don’t refer simply to their present instantiation but “to a history and to a social context that requires interpretation.” But technological rationality, shaped by formal universals, marginalizes dialectical thinking, the seeing of substantive universals and latent possibilities. Technological rationality prefers the actual, the present-at hand. (162) It ignores social context and history. When the dialectical logic of substantive universals is suppressed the internal contradictions inherent in things are papered over leaving only reified, one dimensional consciousness in play. As a result, social change is blocked and real subjective consciousness is stunted so that what is actual and present is mistaken for what is fundamentally real.

In this truncated reality techno-scientific rationality breaks up the world into problems to be solved and then reduces the problem solving to the use of technical devices. Thus “social crises and injustices no longer call for fundamental change but instead are interpreted as technical problems” (164) In other words, social and environmental injustices are not understood historically but managed by abstract forms of technological rationality that value production, calculability and control regardless of the ends that are served. In sum, under capitalism the value neutrality of technological rationality, as it encroaches upon the social sphere, covers up the possibility of seeing that the very neutrality with respect to bias is its bias and that this bias legitimates domination. Amplifying Marcuse’s insight, Feenberg states that “it is the very neutrality of science that supplies the link between instrumentalism and domination.” (165)  Marcuse refers to this link as “[science’s] neutral character which relates objectivity to a specific historical Subject – namely, the consciousness that prevails in the society.” (165) Only a new form of reason, an aesthetic reason, can de-reify this consciousness and save humanity from itself. By the conclusion of chapter five Feenberg shows that Marcuse and Heidegger agree about the diagnosis of modern technological societies but not about the prognosis. Feenberg aligns himself with Marcuse’s prognosis. Instead of waiting for art to give us a new god or what amounts to the same thing for Heidegger, a new clearing, Feenberg underscores the timeliness of Marcuse’s call for a new form of reason.

Chapter 6: A New Concept of Reason? renews the call for a dialectical understanding of nature grounded in the lifeworld, a scientific socialist rationality that will bridge the gap between, what Marx’s two forms of nature, “sensuous consciousness and sensuous need.” (169) According to Marx, the senses themselves are mediated or humanized by history and culture, i.e., by labor.  Expanding this insight, Marcuse claims that since science relies on the senses, the basis of science is already cultural despite science’s attempt to enforce cultural neutrality. Thus, scientists are never merely “indifferent observers, but are active beings informed by culture” who live in a “historical epoch that objectifies nature in accordance with a specific social a priori.” (169) Whether all human senses have “evolved” into their current civilized form, as Feenberg claims, is somewhat debatable. According to the book Marcuse’s complaint is against a widespread sensuous repression and stultification, not a sensuous evolution.  Marx, in the 1844 Manuscript, describes a classist humanization of the senses, patchy and uneven. The poverty and exploitation of the proletariat condemned them to continuous sensuous deprivation but it does not do this to the bourgeoisie who benefitted from that exploitation and notoriously indulged their senses. Today, the middle class is not the only class addicted to a compulsive cycle of work and consumption that desensitizes the feeling for nature and beauty. This is the result of the instrumentalist a priori that Marcuse criticizes. He suggests that a “socialist a priori, in contrast, recognizes nature as a subject in its own right. Nature’s potentialities are its own, even as it serves human needs.” (170) He hopes that socialist rationality will reclaim the everyday experience of nature as the atelic unfolding of potentialities, from the formalizing clutches of science. This reclaiming requires a return to the lifeworld of everyday experience and to the criterion of life affirmation that together will help us to recognize and bridge the gap between “the existential and the mathematical truths” of nature. (171) One problem with applying this criterion is its relativity. What is life enhancing for a technocrat is experienced as domination of nature by the sustainable farmer. Marcuse’s account does not always help us to decide who is right.

Chapter 6 explains that bridging the gap depends on cultivating a feeling for the beautiful where the beautiful is thought analogically with Kant’s aesthetics, as a singular experience that lacks a concept. Just as for Kant the feeling for the beautiful is a harmony between the interplay of the imagination and the understanding, a feeling for the “furtherance of life” (Kant 1987, 98), so for Marcuse the feeling for the beautiful points to the harmony between the individual and nature. The analogy is limited because Marcuse’s harmonization serves an ultimate purpose, the “pacification of existence” – a social good. This goal, however, is blocked by the current split between science and technology on the one hand, and art and philosophy, on the other hand. The split ensures that reality is reproduced mechanically by the former while the latter develops beautiful and imaginative yet impotent alternatives.

Feenberg leads the reader through three stages of (176-179) Marcuse’s work where he attempts to rethink the bridge between artistic and technological rationality under a socialist rationality. Feenberg incisively targets the limitations and flaws in Marcuse’s plan for a “successor science” – the embodiment of a socialist rationality. (181) Despite shortcomings, Feenberg sees tremendous promise in Marcuse’s phenomenologically informed attempt to return science to “its original logos, the service of life” (183) and works hard to bring it out. To do this he underscores Marcuse’s use of Gilbert Simondon’s concept of “translation” as “the materialization of values … the redefinition of values in technical terms, as elements in the technological process.” (181) The question is how an aesthetic revolution will connect the experiences of nature with the formal facts about nature provided by science? The gap remains, for instance, in persistent denials of climate change, i.e., many people refuse to connect rising global temperatures with global warming supported by science. The scientific reports and predictions are value neutral in the sense that they can serve climate mitigation or harmful industry, though the scales lean in favor of the status quo, the perpetuation of harmful industries. But Feenberg is hopeful that the continued work of environmental groups will correct this default bias. He points out that environmental groups have already reshaped our conceptions of nature from within the lifeworld, just as Marcuse hoped for, so that it is now seen as an organism in need of protection (save the planet!) instead of as a heap of fungible, raw material for further exploitation. Moreover, new disciplines such as environmental science and sustainability studies have grown out of this new conception of nature. Feenberg points out that this is a revitalization of the “epistemic status of concrete experience.” (186)

Furthermore, newly emerging technosciences such as “postnormal science” also support Marcuse’s call for an aesthetic socialist rationality. Postnormal science is fruitfully unstable because it is in constant contact with the public, with social and political concerns (190). Feenberg expands the domain of postnormality to all “disciplines that have immediate effects on the social world and vice versa.” He cites the example of pharmaceutical research where the gap between theory and practice disappears since the “science and the commercial product emerge simultaneously from the lab – the research is the technological application.” (190) Here the existential and the scientific dimensions converge. Moreover, other fields such as “medicine, engineering, and ecology are more and more constrained to construct their objects in terms of norms imposed by social movements, regulation, and public opinion without abandoning scientific methods.” (197) For instance, once a technological concept, “pollution” is no longer an exclusively scientific-technological object of study.  The public’s concern with dirty air and water injected normative criteria into the specialized study of nature and opened new environmental ways of seeing potentialities for cleaning and protect nature.

Environmental science and technology increasingly support the translation of the public’s existential concerns with environmental health and security into concrete earth friendly innovations. The plastic tax and the increased production of electric cars are just two examples. Feenberg recounts others, perhaps the most striking of which is the history of nuclear energy in the U.S.. While it was once considered the highest sign of progress, the mass publicity of several nuclear accidents scared the public and the technology went into abatement. Public safety and security won out over progress and the scientific transcendence of limits. This was a small revolution that transformed a local world. Today, most scientists agree that nuclear energy is a good alternative to the devastation caused by fossil fuel and that it is safer to use than it was in the 1950s. It remains to be seen how the dialogue with a still skeptical general public will go. But one thing is clear, scientists and activists are both moved by normative concerns from within the lifeworld and by a desire for the flourishing of life on earth (not Mars). They are not neutral observers but desiring agents who seek harmony with nature not its domination. And if Marcuse and Feenberg are right then they also seek beauty.


[1] First, according to Heidegger’s “The Question Concerning Technology,” the essence of technology is “nothing technological” but “a mode of revealing,” a historical dispensation, a world. (Heidegger 1977, 16) The technological era continues to unfold under the imperatives of control, order and optimization whose authority is self-legitimizing and derives from the ubiquity of these imperatives. Second, in its essence technology is not merely a value neutral tool, a means for a subject to control objects. Although devices appear neutral means in the hands of subjects, they conceal the way that users are driven to produce more and more tools to maximize their output. This drive is out of control. Finally, since technology’s essence reveals the real as historically a priori and describes this a priori as a relationship between an attitude of challenging-forth and a world that it reduces to a resource (Heidegger 1977, 17), the essence of technology sums up the reduction of nature and things to “standing reserve” or resources.

Bibliography

Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. Translated Joan Stambaugh. SUNY Press, 1996.

Heidegger, Martin. “The Question Concerning Technology” in The Question Concerning  Technology and Other Essays. Translated William Lovitt. Harper & Row Publishers, 1977.

Immanuel Kant. Critique of Judgment. Translated Werner Pluhar. Hackett Publishing Co, 1987.