Models of Action

My first significant issue with Habermas has to do with the reductive way in which he recurringly speaks about “teleological action” as, in effect, any old pursuit of an objective, and thus as to be understood in terms of modern instrumental reason. This puts the primary focus on immediate objectives, whereas for Aristotle, immediate objectives only minimally count as ends. The more proper ends for Aristotle are things sought “for themselves”, and not as part of any utilitarian calculation of means. Aristotelian teleology in its primary sense is not about the mere pursuit of objectives, but relates primarily to those ultimate values that are sought for themselves.

I think that in fact Habermas does not intend a serious reference to Aristotle here. This “Aristotle” resembles the same cardboard stereotype we see cited in discussions of early modern logic.

“Since Aristotle [sic], the concept of teleological action has been at the center of the philosophical theory of action. The actor attains an end or brings about the occurrence of a desired state by choosing means that have promise of being successful in the given situation and applying them in a suitable manner. The central concept is that of a decision among alternative courses of action, with a view to the realization of an end, guided by maxims, and based on an interpretation of the situation” (Theory of Communicative Action vol. 1, p. 85, emphasis in original).

(In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle emphasizes on the contrary that choice is a consequence of deliberation, not an original or ultimately arbitrary decision. What Habermas says gives partial recognition to this. I call it partial because he still calls decision rather than deliberation the “central concept”, whereas Aristotle clearly gives more weight to the deliberation.)

“This model is often interpreted in utilitarian terms; the actor is supposed to choose and calculate means and ends from the standpoint of maximizing utility or expectations of utility. It is this model of action that lies behind decision-theoretic and game-theoretic approaches in economics, sociology, and social psychology” (ibid).

Clearly, this is very far removed from Aristotelian teleology. Habermas discusses “normative” and “dramaturgical” models of action along with this “teleological” kind that really corresponds to utilitarian calculation. The “normative” kind also has a rather reductive flavor. But all three of these models are really just stage-setting for a contrast with the communicative reason that Habermas wants to recommend, and treats as primary.

“For a theory of communicative action only those analytic theories of meaning are instructive that start from the structure of linguistic expressions rather than from speakers’ intentions” (p. 275, emphasis added).

In general, an expansive rather than narrow approach to the meaning of what is shareably said is more valuable and more relevant than speculation about subjective motivations.

“The organon model of Karl Bühler is representative of this communication-theoretic line of inquiry…. This meaning-theoretic line of development of the organon model leads us away from the objectivistic conception of processes of reaching understanding as information flows between senders and receivers and in the direction of the formal-pragmatic concept of interaction among speaking and acting subjects, interaction that is mediated through acts of reaching understanding” (p. 276).

So far I’ve been keeping aside how this talk about action should be related to a more Aristotelian notion of act, like that developed by Gwenaëlle Aubry. Without a doubt “acts of reaching understanding” come closer to this than any of the other action models Habermas discusses.

Habermas notes that the leading mid-20th century logical empiricist Rudolph Carnap, who approached representational semantics at the less atomistic level of propositions taken as true, almost entirely ignored the pragmatics of language, treating it as basically irrational.

“Starting from the pragmatist theory of signs introduced by Pierce and developed by Morris, Carnap made the symbolic complex … accessible to an internal analysis from syntactic and semantic points of view. The bearers of meaning are not isolated signs but elements of a language system…. With Carnap’s logical syntax and the basic assumptions of reference semantics, the way was opened to a formal analysis of the representational function of language. On the other hand, Carnap considered the appellative and expressive functions of language as pragmatic aspects that should be left to empirical analysis. On this view, the pragmatics of language is not determined by a general system of rules in such a way that it could be opened up to conceptual analysis like syntax and semantics” (ibid).

“The theory of meaning was finally established as a formal science only with the step from reference semantics to truth semantics. The semantics founded by Frege and developed through the early Wittgenstein to Davidson and Dummett gives center stage to the relation between sentence and state of affairs, between language and the world. With this ontological turn semantic theory disengaged itself from the view that the representational function can be clarified on the model of names that designate objects. The meaning of sentences, and the understanding of sentence meanings, cannot be separated from language’s inherent relation to the validity of statements” (ibid).

As usual, I prefer to be very modest about claims to “science”. What Habermas calls a formal science, I would call interpretive work. In the German tradition, Wissenschaft has a broader sense than common English usage of “science”. Habermas has himself written elsewhere about the centrality of a notion of interpretation.

“Speakers and hearers understand the meaning of a sentence when they know under what conditions it is true. Correspondingly, they understand the meaning of a word when they know what contribution it makes to the capacity for truth of a sentence formed with its help. Thus truth semantics developed the thesis that the meaning of a sentence is determined by its truth conditions” (pp. 276-277).

This still presupposes that what knowledge is and what truth is are unproblematic. It really only replaces simplistic word-representationalism with a much richer sentence-representationalism. Sentence-representationalism is just as referential as word-representationalism, just more abstract. Habermas’s use of “true” here strikes me as referential in the same way. It just is not naively referential.

“The limits of this approach become visible as soon as the different modes of using sentences are brought under formal consideration. Frege had already distinguished between the assertoric or interrogative force of assertions or questions and the structure of the propositional sentences employed in these utterances. Along the line from the later Wittgenstein through Austin and Searle, the formal semantics of sentences was extended to speech acts. It is no longer limited to the representational function of language but is open to an unbiased analysis of the multiplicity of illocutionary forces. The theory of speech acts marks the first step toward a formal pragmatics that extends to noncognitive modes of employment. At the same time, … it remains tied to the narrow ontological presuppositions of truth-conditional semantics” (p. 277).

This account of speech acts seems like a nice, careful, balanced judgment.

“The theory of meaning can attain the level of integration of the communication theory that Bühler advanced in a programmatic way only if it is able to provide a systematic grounding for the appellative and expressive functions of language (and perhaps also for the ‘poetic’ function related to the linguistic means themselves, as this was developed by Jakobson)” (ibid).

He doesn’t quite say it, but I think the kind of pragmatics developed by Habermas and Brandom provides a much better account of what meaning really is than standard representational semantics.

“Bühler’s theory of language functions could be connected with the methods and insights of the analytic theory of meaning and be made the centerpiece of a theory of communicative action oriented to reaching understanding if we could generalize the concept of validity beyond the truth of propositions and identify validity conditions no longer only on the semantic level of sentences but on the pragmatic level of utterances” (ibid, emphasis added).

I suspect that in some places where Habermas speaks of validity claims, Brandom would invoke normativity or commitments instead. Habermas seems to work with a narrow notion of normativity that mainly characterizes law and Kantian deontology, but he partly makes up for it by giving what I would call a “normative” aspect to his broad notion of validity. I deemphasize any differences between “ethics”, “morality”, and “normativity”, but Habermas thinks it is important to distinguish them.

“For this purpose the paradigm change in philosophy that was introduced by J. L. Austin [speech act theory] … must be radicalized in such a way that the break with the ‘logos characterization of language’, that is, with privileging its representational function also has consequences…. It is not merely a question of admitting other modes of language use on an equal footing with the assertoric; we have to establish validity claims and world-relations for them as was done for the assertoric mode. It is with this in mind that I have proposed that we do not set illocutionary role over against propositional content as an irrational force, but conceive of it as the component that specifies which validity claims a speaker is raising in his utterance, how he is raising it, and for what…. The corresponding validity claims of truth, rightness, and sincerity can the serve as guiding threads (pp. 277-278).

In Christian theology, logos is primarily representational, but I contend that this is not at all true of logos in Plato and Aristotle, where it always has connotations of reason, reasoning, or discourse. On the other hand, Habermas does not believe in “substantive” reason. He argues for an exclusively procedural communicative reason, in which the procedural aspect has strong affinities with modern procedural notions of justice. For my part, I cleave to a Platonic emphasis on mixed forms, and would like to undo any sharp distinction between substantive and procedural reason.

(And at a sort of halfway point between pure representation and discursive reasoning, Euclid uses logos for what we know as ratio in mathematics. It is historically interesting that logos and ratio have closely related meanings in two senses — representational and inferential — and not just one. Euclid’s theory of ratio and proportion is a historically important paradigm for exact reasoning that is effectively independent of Plato and Aristotle, though later. Compared to Plato and Aristotle, reason in Euclid is more formal and much less discursive. Hobbes and other early moderns looked to Euclid as a model.)

In Austin’s terminology, “locution” is what is said and meant, “illocution” is what is done in a speech act, and “perlocution” is what happens as a result. Like Brandom, Habermas treats saying as a kind of doing, and therefore stresses the illocutionary aspect. Habermas has just reminded us that empiricism treats illocution only as an irrational force, and not as something that could be rationally understood. This applies as well to the neo-Kantian sociology of Weber.

“Weber begins by introducing ‘meaning’ as a basic concept of action theory and with its help distinguishes actions from observable behavior…. Weber does not rely here on a theory of meaning but on a theory of consciousness. He does not elucidate ‘meaning’ in connection with the model of speech; he does not relate it to the linguistic medium of possible understanding, but to the beliefs and intentions of an acting subject, taken to begin in isolation. At this first switchpoint Weber parts company with a theory of communicative action. What counts as fundamental is not the interpersonal relation between at least two speaking and acting subjects — a relation that refers back to reaching understanding in language — but the purposive activity of a solitary acting subject” (p. 279).

Habermas is saying that even in Weber’s sociology, the neo-Kantian individual subject remains originally isolated, as in the “Cartesian” stereotype. It only acquires social significance after being individually constituted.

“Thus Weber starts from a teleological [sic] model of action, and specifies ‘subjective meaning’ as a (precommunicative) action intention…. Since Weber starts from a monologically conceived model of action, the concept of ‘social action’ cannot be introduced by way of explicating the concept of meaning…. On the other hand, … Weber stresses that the action orientations of participants have to be reciprocally related to one another” (p. 280).

But “Weber does not start from the social relationship. He regards as rationalizable only the means-ends relation of teleologically [sic] conceived, monological action. If one adopts this perspective, the only aspects of action open to objective appraisal are the effectiveness of a causal intervention into a existing situation and the truth of the empirical assumptions that underlie the maxim or the plan of action — that is, the subjective belief about a purposive-rational organization of means” (p. 281).

“I shall speak of communicative action whenever the actions of the agents involved are coordinated not through egocentric calculations of success but through acts of reaching understanding” (pp. 285-286).

“Processes of reaching understanding aim at an agreement that meets the conditions of rationally motivated assent [Zustimmung] to the content of an utterance. A communicatively achieved agreement has a rational basis; it cannot be imposed by either party…. Agreement can indeed be objectively obtained by force; but what comes to pass manifestly through outside influence or the use of violence cannot count subjectively as agreement” (p. 287).

“If we were not in a position to refer to the model of speech, we could not even begin to analyze what it means for two subjects to come to an understanding with each other. Reaching understanding is the inherent telos of human speech” (ibid, emphasis added).

“Without doubt, there are countless cases [where] one subject inconspicuously harnesses another for his own purposes, that is, induces him to behave in a desired way by manipulatively employing linguistic means and thereby instrumentalizes him for his own success. Such examples of the use of language with an orientation to consequences seem to decrease the value of speech acts as the model for action oriented to reaching understanding” (p. 288).

“This will turn out not to be the case only if it can be shown that the use of language with an orientation to reaching understanding is the original mode of language use, upon which indirect understanding, giving something to understand or letting something be understood, and the instrumental use of language in general, are parasitic. In my view, Austin’s distinction between illocutions and perlocutions accomplishes just that” (ibid).

Communicative reason is primary for Habermas in a way much analogous to the way Brandom says we really have “normativity all the way down”. Brandom recalls the figure of speech “turtles all the way down”. This was supposed to be the answer of some primitive to the question that if the world is on the back of a great turtle, what does the turtle stand on? The answer was, supposedly, “It’s turtles all the way down”, which humorously undermines the status of the purportedly foundational world-turtle.

“The self-sufficiency of the speech act is to be understood in the sense that the communicative intent of the speaker and the illocutionary aim he is pursuing follow from the manifest meaning of what is said. It is otherwise with teleological [sic] actions. We identify their meaning only in connection with the intentions their authors are pursuing and the ends [sic] they want to realize . As the meaning of what is said is constitutive for illocutionary acts, the intention of the agent is constitutive for teleological [sic] actions” (p. 289, emphasis in original).

In a situation where the meaning of what is said is constitutive, we have something like what Aristotle called an entelechy. This is the purest form of Aristotelian teleology, applicable to the values that are sought purely for themselves and not for any egocentric reason. Habermas in effect wants to say that communicative reason is closely related to entelechy, though he would not use that term. I would go further, and relate it to the pure entelechy and contemplation that Aristotle associates with the first cause and with the goal of human life.

Next in this series: Habermas on Intersubjectivity

Popper’s Three Worlds

Habermas in the third chapter of Theory of Communicative Action quotes the noted philosopher of science Karl Popper’s 1967 address “Epistemology Without a Knowing Subject”, which surprised the empiricist community by claiming that besides physical objects and states of consciousness there must also be “the world of objective contents of thought, especially of scientific and poetic thoughts and of works of art” (vol. 1 p. 76, emphasis in original). I must confess that I have deprioritized Popper, due to his horrible but influential claim in The Open Society and Its Enemies (1945) that Plato and Hegel sow the seeds of totalitarianism. But on the contents of thought, he is worth listening to.

According to Habermas, Popper takes up Frege and Husserl’s critique of psychologism.

“Popper is criticizing the fundamental empiricist conception of a subject that confronts the world in an immediate way…. This problem context explains why he understands his doctrine of objective mind as a critical extension of the empiricist concept and introduces both objective and subjective mind as ‘worlds’, that is, as special totalities of entities. The older theories of objective mind or spirit developed in the historicist and neo-Hegelian traditions from Dilthey… start from an active mind that expounds itself in the worlds it constitutes. By contrast, Popper holds fast to the primacy of the world in relation to mind…. The world counts as the totality of what is the case” (pp. 76-77).

The last part is a famous formulation from Wittgenstein.

What Habermas calls a historicist “active mind” seems to recall stereotypes of Hegel rather than anything in Aristotle. Habermas sides with Popper against bad Hegelianism. He does not seem to share Robert Pippin’s concern to insist on the purely active character of human understanding. I take this to be a good thing.

“Popper distinguishes between explicit semantic contents that are already embodied in phonemes and written signs, in color or stone, in machines, and so forth, on the one hand, and those implicit semantic contents that are not yet ‘discovered’, not yet objectified in carrier objects of the first world, but are simply inherent in already embodied meanings. Symbolic formations… confront subjective mind with the objectivity of a problematic, uncomprehended complex of meaning that can be opened up only through intellectual labor. The products of the human mind immediately turn against it as problems” (p. 77, emphasis in original).

I like the emphasis on problems. Meanings are never just there, or simply given. All meaning has a problematic aspect, when examined closely enough. All meaning is subject to interpretation. That is one reason why the cooperative social aspect of communication is so important.

“These problems are clearly autonomous. They are in no sense made by us; and in this sense they exist, undiscovered, before their discovery. Moreover, at least some of these problems may be insoluble” (ibid).

“[T]he moment we have produced … theories, they create new, unintended and unexpected problems, autonomous problems, problems to be discovered. This explains why the third world, which in its origin is our product, is autonomous in what may be called its ontological status. It explains why we can act upon it and add to it or help its growth, even though no one can master even a small corner of this world. All of us contribute to its growth, but almost all of our individual contributions are vanishingly small. All of us try to grasp it, and none of us could live without being in contact with it, for all of us make use of speech, without which we would hardly be human. Yet the third world has grown far beyond the grasp not only of any individual but even of all individuals (as shown by the existence of insoluble problems)” (p. 78).

Meaning also has or can have its own kind of objectivity, tied neither to physical things nor to an individual subject or community. Its objectivity and its problematic character need to be thought together.

“This entails a renunciation of two fundamental empiricist conceptions. On the one hand, the entities of the third world cannot be reduced — as forms of expression of subjective mind — to mental states, that is, to entities of the second world. On the other hand, the relations between entities of the first and second worlds cannot be conceived exclusively in terms of the causal model that holds for relations between entities of the first world themselves. Popper bars the way both to a psychologistic conception of objective mind and to a physicalistic conception of subjective mind. The autonomy of the third world guarantees instead that knowledge of, as well as intervention into, states of the objective world are mediated through discovery of the independence of internal meaning connections” (ibid, emphasis added).

Meaning exists only in relation to other meaning. It is made up of “internal connections”. Efficient causality is useful for getting things done, but is a poor fit for the understanding of human reality.

“The development of science, which Popper understands as a cumulative feedback process involving initial problems, creative formation of hypotheses, critical testing, revision, and discovery of new problems, not only serves as the model for subjective mind’s grasp of the world of objective mind; according to Popper, the third world is essentially made up of problems, theories, and arguments. He does also mention, in addition to theories and tools, social institutions and works of art as examples of entities in the third world…. Strictly speaking, the third world is the totality of Fregean Gedanken [thoughts], whether true or false, embodied or not” (p. 79, emphasis in original).

“Popper not only conceives of the third world in ontological terms as a totality of entities with a specific mode of being; within this framework he also understands it in a one-sided manner, from the conceptual perspective of the development of science” (ibid).

Otherwise said, Popper — like many of the moderns — still privileges efficient causality.

“Both aspects prove to be severe restrictions in the attempt to make Popper’s concept of the third world useful for the foundations of sociology. I.C. Jarvie starts from the phenomenological sociology of knowledge inspired by Alfred Schutz, which conceives of society as a social construction of the everyday world that issues from the interpretive processes of acting subjects and congeals into objectivity. But he analyzes the ontological status of the social life-context , which is produced by the human mind and yet preserves a relative independence from it, on the model of the third world” (ibid).

“[C]arrying Popper’s three-world theory over from epistemological to action-theoretic contexts makes the weaknesses of the construction visible” (p. 80).

“Jarvie neglects the elements of cultural tradition that cannot be reduced to Gedanken or propositions admitting of truth. He limits the objective complexes of meaning that acting subjects both produce and discover to cognitive interpretations in the narrow sense. In this respect Popper’s model of the third world is particularly implausible, for the action-orienting power of cultural values is at least as important for interactions as that of theories. Either the status of societal entities is assimilated to that of theories; or … it permits no distinction between cultural values and the institutional embodiment of values in norms” (p. 81).

Habermas criticizes both narrow cognitivism and its reduction of everything to efficient causes.

“To begin with, I would like to replace the ontological concept of ‘world’ with one derived from the phenomenological tradition and to adopt the pair of concepts ‘world’ and ‘lifeworld’…. [P]henomenologists like Alfred Schutz speak of the lifeworld as the unthematically given horizon within which participants in communication move in common when they refer thematically to something in the world” (p. 82).

“I would like to replace the one-sidedly cognitivistic interpretation of the concept ‘objective mind’ with a concept of cultural knowledge differentiated according to several validity claims…. From the perspective of action theory, the activities of the human mind are not easily limited to the cognitive-instrumental confrontation with external nature; social actions are oriented to cultural values and these do not have a truth relation” (p. 83).

Much of his first volume will be taken up with a reading of the neo-Kantian sociology of Max Weber. Habermas positions Weber’s stance as an alternative to Jarvie’s use of Popper.

“Weber understands cultural tradition in toto as a store of knowledge out of which special spheres of value and systems of knowledge are formed under different validity claims. He would thus include in the third world the evaluative and expressive components of culture as well as the cognitive-instrumental. If one adopts this alternative, one must of course explain what ‘validity’ and ‘knowledge’ can mean in regard to the noncognitive components of culture” (p. 84).

I am sympathetic to Brandom’s idea that evaluative and expressive aspects not only need to be included, but come first in the order of explanation.

“Participants in communication who are seeking to come to an understanding with one another about something do not take up a relation only to the one objective world, as is suggested by the precommunicative model dominant in empiricism. They by no means refer only to things that happen or could happen or could be made to happen in the objective world, but to things in the subjective and social worlds as well” (ibid).

With what he calls the communicative model, Habermas aims to conclusively move beyond egocentrism and physicalistic reductionism in the understanding of the human.

Next in this series: Models of Action

Worldview, Lifeworld

I had expected to skip further ahead, but Habermas’s second chapter is also of great interest. He is digging deeper into the concept of criticizable validity claims in ordinary social situations, and what conditions they presuppose. In a way he is reaching for something like what I used to imagine a sociology of knowledge could be, but he connects it with linguistic pragmatics, speech act theory, argumentation theory, and linguistic philosophy in general, in a way that is quite original.

“The concept of propositional truth is in fact too narrow to cover everything for which participants in argument claim validity in the logical sense. For this reason the theory of argumentation must be equipped with a more comprehensive concept of validity that is not restricted to validity in the sense of truth. But it does not at all follow from this that we have to renounce concepts of validity analogous to truth, to expunge every counterfactual moment from the concept of validity and to equate validity with context-dependent acceptability” (Theory of Communicative Action vol. 1, p. 30).

Habermas wants to allow neither absolutism nor relativism, as is entirely appropriate. (Everything interesting is in between.)

In the early 20th century, Karl Mannheim’s sociology of knowledge had a similar goal. Mannheim’s work was also based on an analysis of processes of modernization, but got caught up in allegations of relativism. Habermas aims to do better on this score. And at least in general terms, due in large measure to his inclusion of considerations from linguistic philosophy, I think he succeeds.

“We try to support a claim with good grounds or reasons; the quality of the reasons and their relevance can be called into question by the other side; we meet objections and are in some cases forced to modify our original position” (ibid).

To me, this is an articulation of what could be considered the fundamental principle of Socratic, Platonic, or ethical dialogue. It is also fundamental to Brandom’s enterprise. (In the near future, I’ll add a post on Brandom’s interesting discussion of Habermas.)

“The rationality of worldviews is not measured in terms of logical and semantic properties but in terms of the formal-pragmatic basic concepts they place at the disposal of individuals for interpreting the world” (p. 45).

Here, like Brandom, he is arguing that pragmatics comes before semantics in the order of explanation. But Habermas also has a substantial engagement with sociological and cultural-anthropological theory. He has lengthy discussions of Max Weber, but also substantially addresses Durkheim, George Herbert Mead, and Talcott Parsons. I put the same caveats on “formal-pragmatic” as I did on “formal concepts” above.

“From Durkheim to Lévi-Strauss, anthropologists have repeatedly pointed out the peculiar confusion between nature and culture” (p. 48).

This observation has great relevance to ordinary life. One of the things that culture prominently does is to appear to be natural.

“Validity is confounded with empirical efficacy…. Concepts of validity such as morality and truth are amalgamated with empirical ordering concepts, such as causality and health. Thus a linguistically constituted worldview can be identified with the world-order itself to such an extent that it cannot be perceived as an interpretation of the world that is subject to error and open to criticism” (p. 50).

This is how “ideology” works.

“Validity claims are in principle open to criticism because they are based on formal world-concepts. They presuppose a world that is identical for all possible observers, or a world intersubjectively shared by members. Such claims call for the rational response of a partner in communication” (ibid).

Here we again have the programmatic ideal of open discussion that Habermas shares with Rorty and Brandom. It is not quite clear what Habermas means by “formal concepts”. I am not sure why he specifies that the concepts must be “formal”, and I think Brandom would definitely dispute that they should be called that. But I have the sense that when he says “formal”, Habermas may just mean “subject to the give and take of reasons”. Habermas does not seem to share Brandom’s emphasis on material inference, so he may think of reasoning in general as “formal”.

“By contrast, mythical worldviews prevent us from categorially uncoupling nature and culture, not only through conceptually mixing the objective and social worlds but also through reifying the linguistic worldview. As a result the concept of the world is dogmatically invested with a specific content that is withdrawn from rational discussion and thus from criticism” (p. 51).

Habermas offers a more specific analysis of how what Brandom calls “traditional” normativity emerges.

“But an analogous mixing of domains of reality can be shown as well for the relationship of culture and internal nature or the subjective world…. Only against the background of a normative reality that has become autonomous, and measured against the criticizable claim to normative rightness, can intentions, wishes, attitudes, feelings appear as illegitimate or merely idiosyncratic, as nongeneralizable and merely subjective. To the degree that mythical worldviews hold sway over cognition and orientations for action, a clear demarcation of a domain of subjectivity is apparently not possible. Intentions and motives are just as little separated from actions and their consequences as feelings are from their normatively fixed, stereotyped expressions” (ibid, emphasis in original).

I found this eye-opening. He seems to be suggesting that normative reality becomes autonomous (i.e., subject to critical discussion) as a result of the same complex historical processes of economic/technical/instrumental rationalization that we elsewhere decry for their alienating effects. This raises the stakes quite a bit.

I also appreciate the three-way distinction between subjective, objective, and intersubjective.

“Mythical worldviews are not understood by members as interpretive systems that are attached to cultural traditions, constituted by internal interrelations of meaning, symbolically related to reality, and connected with validity claims — and thus exposed to criticism and open to revision…. Of course, this does not yet prove that the supposed rationality expressed in our understanding of the world is more than a reflection of the particular features of a culture stamped by science, that it may rightfully raise a claim to universality” (pp. 52-53).

Habermas notes that discussions of modernity and rationality are often taken to involve a Eurocentric prejudice, and clearly wants to avoid this.

“Worldviews store the cultural knowledge with the help of which a language community interprets the world” (pp. 56-57).

With my Platonic scruples, I would not call this kind of acculturation “knowledge”. It seems closer to the notion of Aristotelian ethos.

“Inasmuch as worldviews refer to totalities, we cannot get behind them as articulations of an understanding of the world, even if they can be revised. In this respect they are like a portrait that claims to represent a person as a whole. A portrait is neither a mapping that can be exact or inexact, nor a rendering of facts in the sense of a proposition that can be true or false. A portrait offers rather an angle of vision from which the person represented appears in a certain way. Thus there can be numerous portraits of the same person; they can make the character appear in quite different aspects, and yet they can all be experienced as accurate, authentic, or adequate…. Worldviews can no more be true or false than can portraits” (p. 58).

“On the other hand, worldviews differ from portraits in that they in turn make possible utterances that admit of truth…. Owing to their reference to totality, worldviews are indeed removed from the dimension in which a judgment of them according to criteria of truth makes sense; even the choice of criteria according to which the truth of statements is to be judged may depend on the basic conceptual context of a worldview. But this does not mean that the idea of truth might itself be understood in a particularistic way. Whatever language system we choose, we always start intuitively from the presupposition that truth is a universal validity claim. If a statement is true, it merits universal assent, no matter in which language it is formulated. The adequacy of a linguistically articulated worldview is a function of the true statements that are possible in this language system” (pp. 58-59).

Here he articulates a moral ideal of universality. While we must constantly be wary of premature claims to universality, really effective universality just is the valid generalization of shared understanding. If shared understanding is a good thing, then more or deeper shared understanding is a better thing.

“Worldviews are comparable only in respect to their potency for conferring meaning…. They open equally primordial possibilities of ‘making sense of human life’. They thereby structure forms of life that are incommensurable in their value. The rationality of forms of life cannot be reduced to the cognitive adequacy of the worldviews underlying them” (p. 59, emphasis in original).

“However, worldviews are constitutive not only for processes of reaching understanding but for the social integration and socialization of individuals as well…. This identity-securing knowledge becomes more and more formal along the path from closed to open worldviews” (p. 64, emphasis in original).

Again, I would not call it knowledge, but the point still stands. The way he uses “formal” here, in explicit association with openness, influences my reading of “formal” in the other passages.

“In discussing Weber’s sociology of religion in the next chapter, I shall attempt to make the development of religious worldviews comprehensible from the aspect of a development of formal world-concepts, that is, as a learning process. In doing so I shall be making tacit use of a concept of learning that Piaget expounded for the ontogenesis of structures of consciousness” (p. 67).

This ambitious goal of treating historical development as a learning process applies as well to Dewey, Rorty, and Brandom. Habermas more specifically connects it to Piaget’s work in developmental cognitive psychology and the concept of open systems, both of which broadly speaking are empirical rather than philosophical. Here some balance is needed. If taken too far or in the wrong way, belief in progress can turn into an apologetic for the status quo.

“The growing child works out for himself, equiprimordially, the concepts of the external and internal worlds in dealing practically with objects and with himself. Piaget also draws a distinction between dealing with physical objects and dealing with social objects, that is, ‘reciprocal action between a subject and objects and reciprocal action between a subject and other subjects’ (p. 68).

“Thus for Piaget there is cognitive development in a wider sense, which is not understood solely as the construction of an external universe but also as the construction of a reference system for the simultaneous demarcation of the objective and social worlds from the subjective world. Cognitive development signifies in general the decentration of an egocentric understanding of the world” (p. 69, emphasis in original).

The goal of reaching understanding is far more important than being “right” in a dispute.

Habermas has been criticized for his “cognitivist” approach to ethics. I think cognitivism in this sense boils down to the position that what is good cannot be determined in complete abstraction from what is true. Brandom and Habermas also assert the converse: that what is true cannot be determined in complete abstraction from what is good. I don’t see anything narrow about this.

“Every action oriented to reaching understanding can be conceived as part of a cooperative process of interpretation aiming at situation definitions that are intersubjectively recognized” (pp. 69-70).

Here we have shared understanding as an overarching moral goal.

“I can introduce here the concept of the Lebenswelt or lifeworld, to begin with as the correlate of processes of reaching understanding…. In their interpretive accomplishments the members of a communication community demarcate the one objective world and their intersubjectively shared social world from the subjective worlds of individuals and (other) collectives. The world-concepts and the corresponding validity claims provide the formal scaffolding with which those acting communicatively order problematic contexts of situations, that is, those requiring agreement, in their lifeworld, which is presupposed as unproblematic” (p. 70).

“The lifeworld also stores the interpretive work of preceding generations. It is the conservative counterweight to the risk of disagreement that arises within every actual process of reaching understanding; for communicative actors can achieve an understanding only by way of taking yes/no positions on criticizable validity claims. The relation between these weights changes with the decentration of worldviews. The more the worldview that furnishes the cultural stock of knowledge is decentered, the less the need for understanding is covered in advance by an interpreted lifeworld immune from critique and the more this need has to be met by the interpretive accomplishments of the participants themselves…. The more cultural traditions predecide which validity claims, when, where, for what, from whom, and to whom must be accepted, the less the participants themselves have the possibility of making explicit and examining the potential grounds on which their yes/no positions are based” (pp. 70-71).

As he says, lifeworlds in general have a conservative aspect. They serve stability, not novelty. But more specifically, he is emphasizing that based on a more detailed view, lifeworlds can also be placed on a scale of relative openness or closedness.

Here he begins to discuss mythical worldviews. Mythical worldviews, he maintains, are inevitably closed in this sense. Conversely, this seems to be the way in which potentially alienating modern abstraction also at the same time grounds discursive openness. Modernization is then conceived as a progress along this axis, toward greater discursive openness.

“To the degree that the lifeworld of a social group is interpreted through a mythical worldview, the burden of interpretation is removed from the individual member, as well as the chance for him to bring about an agreement open to criticism. To the extent that the worldview remains sociocentric in Piaget’s sense, it does not permit differentiation between the world of existing states of affairs, valid norms and expressible subjective experiences. The linguistic worldview is reified as the world order and cannot be seen as an interpretive system open to criticism” (p. 71).

Our lifeworld comprises everything that we take to be what Sellars and Brandom call “Given” (as in “the Myth of”). Like “consciousness”, lifeworld is another more specific name for appearance. Decentered understanding works by partially negating or qualifying the givenness of the “Given”.

“If we employ Piaget’s concept of decentration as a guiding thread in this way, in order to clarify the internal connection between the structure of a worldview, the lifeworld as the context of processes of understanding, and the possibilities of a rational conduct of life, we again encounter the concept of communicative rationality. This concept relates a decentered understanding of the world to the possibility of discursively redeeming criticizable validity claims” (p. 72).

Habermas’s communicative reason, it seems to me, is an interpretive paradigm of what I would call ethical inquiry, completely independent of the instrumental reason associated with efficient causes and efficient means of doing things.

I am pleased to see the use he repeatedly makes of the notion of “decentering”.

“Perhaps we should talk instead of a balance among non-self-sufficient moments, an equilibrated interplay of the cognitive with the moral and the aesthetic-practical. But the attempt to provide an equivalent for what was once intended by the good life should not mislead us into deriving this idea from the formal concept of reason with which modernity’s decentered understanding of the world has left us” (p. 73).

This is a little ambiguous. I suspect he means both that we can no longer define the good life at all, and also more specifically that the good life cannot be derived from formal reason. I agree with the second, but I think it is still meaningful to talk about the good life, and that it has an important relation to informal practices of reason.

“A critique of this sort can indeed be based on the procedural concept of communicative rationality if it can be shown that the decentration of world understanding and the rationalization of the lifeworld are necessary conditions for an emancipated society” (p. 74).

I provisionally believe this is indeed what he aims to show.

Next in this series: Popper’s Three Worlds

Communicative Action

When it appeared, Habermas’s Theory of Communicative Action was called the most ambitious study in social theory in recent memory. Its scope is far larger than I will address. Here my aim is only to capture a few top-level highlights from his first chapter that are relevant in an ethical context.

Habermas aims to develop a notion of communicative action that treats meaning as inherently social, thus overcoming the modern “philosophy of consciousness” that threatens to reduce everything to individual subjectivity. At the same time, he emphasizes that every saying is a doing.

“To the goal of formally analyzing the conditions of rationality, we can tie neither ontological hopes for substantive theories of nature, history, society, and so forth, nor transcendental-philosophical hopes for an aprioristic reconstruction of the equipment of a nonempirical species subject, of consciousness in general. All attempts at discovering ultimate foundations, in which the intentions of First Philosophy live on, have broken down…. Theories of modern empirical science, whether along the lines of logical empiricism, critical rationalism, or constructivism, make a normative and at the same time universalistic claim that is no longer covered by fundamental assumptions of an ontological or transcendental-philosophical nature” (vol. 1, p. 2).

I’m a little more hopeful that first philosophy is still a meaningful endeavor. Correlated with this difference, Habermas seems to regard Aristotelian first philosophy as inevitably foundationalist, whereas I think that is by no means the case. But this all has to do with what we mean by first philosophy. For example, Avicenna complains that Aristotle should have put the first cause at the beginning of the Metaphysics, rather than only arriving at it at the end. That is to say, Avicenna takes a foundationalist view of the first cause as the Necessary Being (God), from which all else follows. Aristotle instead takes a hermeneutic approach, starting with the concrete while cultivating a variant of what Paul Ricoeur calls the long detour. Habermas too speaks of hermeneutics in this context.

“[R]ationality has less to do with the possession of knowledge than with how speaking and acting subjects acquire and use knowledge” (p. 8).

“We can call men and women, children and adults, ministers and bus conductors ‘rational’, but not animals or lilac bushes, mountains, streets, or chairs. We can call apologies, delays, surgical interventions, declarations of war, repairs, construction plans or conference decisions ‘irrational’, but not a storm, an accident, a lottery win, or an illness” (p. 9).

One way to think of this is that rationality and irrationality (and normative properties in general) are properly said only of things that have intentional structure, which is something different from sensible form or gestalt.

Habermas examines in detail Max Weber’s early 20th century theory of modernity as an increasing, primarily economic but also scientific and technological, “rationalization” of society. He points out that Weber was actually highly critical of the effects of this rationalization. This kind of rationalization is exclusively concerned with what the Frankfurt school critical theorists Horkheimer and Adorno called instrumental reason, which involves a calculating, utilitarian approach to the selection of means, while downplaying any evaluation of the goodness of ends. Horkheimer and Adorno were pessimists about modernity. In this regard, Habermas is much closer to Rorty and Brandom, in that all three are optimists about modernity.

Habermas sees a night-and-day contrast between instrumental reason and the communicative reason he is concerned to promote. In Aristotelian terms, instrumental reason treats everything in light of a degraded concept of efficient causality, as if that were the only thing that is relevant. Communicative reason on the other hand aims at shared understanding, and shared understanding implicitly tends toward universality.

“These reflections point in the direction of basing rationality of an expression on its being susceptible of criticism and grounding…. A judgment can be objective if it is undertaken on the basis of a transsubjective validity claim that has the same meaning for observers and nonparticipants as it has for the acting subject himself. Truth and efficiency are claims of this kind. Thus assertions and goal-directed actions are the more rational the better the claim (to propositional truth or to efficiency that is connected with them) can be defended against criticism” (ibid).

“This concept of communicative rationality carries with it connotations based ultimately on the central experience of the unconstrained, unifying, consensus-bringing force of argumentative speech, in which different participants overcome their merely subjective views and, owing to the mutuality of rationally motivated conviction, assure themselves of both the unity of the objective world and the intersubjectivity of their lifeworld” (p. 10, emphasis in original).

“It is constitutive of the rationality of the utterance that the speaker raises a criticizable validity claim for the proposition p, a claim that the hearer can accept or reject for good reason…. It is constitutive of the action’s rationality that the actor bases it on a plan that implies the truth of p…. An assertion can be called rational only if the speaker satisfies the conditions necessary to achieve the illocutionary goal of reaching an understanding about something in the world with at least one other participant in communication” (p. 11).

“Behavioral reactions of an externally or internally stimulated organism, and environmentally induced changes of state in a self-regulated system can indeed be understood as quasi-actions, that is, as if they were the expressions of a subject’s capacity for action. But this is to speak of rationality only in a figurative sense, for the susceptiblity to criticism and grounding that we require of rational expressions means that the subject to whom they are attributed should, under suitable conditions, himself be able to provide reasons or grounds” (p. 12, emphasis in original).

This recalls Rorty’s anti-authoritarianism argument.

To make assertions at all is to invite critical discussion. This is a very familiar point from Brandom. Brandom himself acknowledges significant influence from Habermas.

This kind of free inquiry is also exactly what Socrates was all about. Plato implicitly illustrates it time and again through abundant examples in his dialogues.

“The abstract concept of the world is a necessary condition if communicatively acting subjects are to reach understanding among themselves about what takes place in the world or is to be effected in it. Through this communicative practice they assure themselves at the same time of their common life-relations, of an intersubjectively shared lifeworld. This life world is bounded by the totality of interpretations presupposed by the members as background knowledge. To elucidate the concept of rationality the phenomenologist must then examine the conditions for communicatively achieved consensus” (p. 13, emphasis in original).

Husserl’s notions of intersubjectivity and lifeworld were extensively developed in the socially oriented phenomenology of Alfred Schutz, to which Habermas makes reference.

“In the context of communicative action, only those persons count as responsible who, as members of a communication-community, can orient their actions to intersubjectively recognized validity claims” (p. 14).

Intersubjectivity — genuine sharing and community — also counts as an ethical ideal. Habermas advocates “dialogical” approaches instead of “monological” ones.

“But there are obviously other types of expressions for which we can have good reasons, even though they are not tied to truth or success claims” (p. 15, emphasis in original).

Normatively regulated actions and expressive self-presentations have, like assertions or constative speech acts, the character of meaningful expressions, understandable in their context, which are connected with criticizable validity claims. Their reference is to norms and subjective experiences rather than to facts. The agent makes the claim that his behavior is right in relation to a normative context recognized as legitimate, or that first-person utterance of an experience to which he has privileged access is truthful or sincere. Like constative speech acts, these expressions can also go wrong. The possibility of intersubjective recognition of criticizable validity claims is constitutive for their rationality too” (pp. 15-16, emphasis in original).

He takes very seriously the notion of argumentation, discussing at some length the work of Stephen Toulmin. This approach dwells on the validity of arguments, rather than the deduction of conclusions from assumptions.

“Thus the rationality proper to the communicative practice of everyday life points to the practice of argumentation as a court of appeal that makes it possible to continue communicative action with other means when disagreements can no longer be repaired with everyday routines and yet are not to be settled by the direct or strategic use of force” (pp. 17-18).

“Corresponding to the openness of rational expressions to being explained, there is, on the side of persons who behave rationally, a willingness to expose themselves to criticism and, if necessary, to participate properly in argumentation” (p. 18).

“In virtue of their criticizability, rational expressions also admit of improvement; we can correct failed attempts if we can successfully identify our mistakes. The concept of grounding is interwoven with that of learning” (ibid).

“In philosophical ethics, it is by no means agreed that the validity claims connected with norms of action, upon which commands or ‘ought’ sentences are based, can, analogously to truth claims, be redeemed discursively. In everyday life, however, no one would enter into moral argumentation if he did not start from the strong presupposition that a grounded consensus could in principle be be achieved among those involved. In my view, this follows with conceptual necessity from the meaning of normative validity claims” (p.19, emphasis in original).

“Anyone who systematically deceives himself about himself behaves irrationally. But one who is capable of letting himself be enlightened about his irrationality possesses not only the rationality of a subject who is competent to judge facts and who acts in a purposive-rational way, who is morally judicious and practically reliable, who evaluates with sensitivity and is aesthetically open-minded; he also possesses the power to behave reflectively in relation to his subjectivity and to see through the irrational limitations to which his cognitive, moral-practical, and aesthetic-practical expressions are subject. In such a process of self-reflection, reasons and grounds also play a role” (p. 20).

“One behaves irrationally if one employs one’s own symbolic means of expression in a dogmatic way. On the other hand, explicative discourse is a form of argumentation in which the comprehensibility, well-formedness, or rule-correctness is no longer naively supposed or contested but is thematized as a controversial claim” (p. 22).

“We can summarize the above as follows: Rationality is understood to be a disposition of speaking and acting subjects that is expressed in modes of behavior for which there are good reasons or grounds” (ibid).

“Argumentation makes possible behavior that counts as rational in a specific sense, namely learning from explicit mistakes” (ibid).

“But if the validity of arguments can be neither undermined in an empiricist manner nor grounded in an absolutist manner, then we are faced with precisely those questions to which the logic of argumentation is supposed to provide the answers: How can problematic validity claims be supported by good reasons? How can reasons be criticized in turn? What makes some arguments, and thus some reasons, which are related to validity claims in a certain way, stronger or weaker than other arguments?” (p. 24).

“We can distinguish three aspects of argumentative speech. First, considered as a process, we have to do with a form of communication that is improbable in that it sufficiently approximates ideal conditions. In this regard, I tried to delineate the general pragmatic presuppositions of argumentation as specifications of an ideal speech situation. This proposal may be unsatisfactory in its details; but I still view as correct my intention to reconstruct the general symmetry conditions that every competent speaker must presuppose are sufficiently satisfied insofar as he intends to enter into argumentation at all” (p. 25).

More generally, I think we can say that an ideal speech situation is characterized by dialogue under conditions of mutual recognition.

“Participants in argumentation have to presuppose in general that the structure of their communication, by virtue of features that can be described in purely formal terms, excludes all force — except the force of the better argument (and thus that it also excludes, on their part, all motives except that of a cooperative search for truth). From this perspective argumentation can be conceived as a reflective continuation, with different means, of action oriented to reaching understanding” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“The fundamental intuition connected with argumentation can best be characterized from the process perspective by the intention of convincing a universal audience and gaining assent for an utterance; from the procedural perspective, by the intention of ending a dispute about hypothetical validity claims with a rationally motivated agreement; and from the product perspective by the intention of grounding or redeeming a validity claim with arguments” (p. 26).

Next in this series: Worldview, Lifeworld

Ethics of Communication

The work of Jürgen Habermas, whom I recently cited, has both significant points of commonality and significant points of contrast with that of Robert Brandom, who first opened my eyes to a sympathetic reading of Kant and Hegel. I’d like to explore how both of these can be related to the broad aims of Platonic dialogue. Eventually, I also hope to relate this all to the needs and circumstances of emotionally sensitive personal communication between individuals.

Most human sayings of things have ethical significance. Many if not most human conflicts are traceable to communication issues. Habermas is mainly interested in exploring this at a broad social and political level. At this point in my life, I mainly hope to have some positive impact on the micro level of personal relationships. But in the world, there are close connections between these, and it would be artificial to try to completely separate them.

Habermas combines a broadly Kantian, procedural and “cognitivist”, rules- and rights-oriented concept of morality with a post-Kantian concern for intersubjectivity. He combines serious attention to German and American sociology, law, and political science, with a sympathy for both American pragmatism and the social criticism of the Young Hegelians and the Frankfurt school. He has a rather old-school, negative view of Hegel, but defends the relevance and usefulness of the broader tradition of German idealism, construed in a way that is compatible with modern science.

Brandom explicitly credits Habermas as an early influence, but also finds great value and contemporary relevance in Hegel. Brandom and Habermas have each written some about the other. Like Brandom, Habermas is a strong defender of modernity, and of the core Enlightenment values of democratic freedom and equality.

Often cited as Habermas’s magnum opus is the two-volume Theory of Communicative Action (German ed. 1981; English tr. 1984, 1987). Like Brandom, he regards the pragmatics (simply put, the use) of language as coming before semantics or the study of meaning. Habermas directly associates the pragmatics of language with justification and the giving of reasons.

Habermas and Brandom both connect linguistic pragmatics with American pragmatist philosophy, by recognizing that saying is a kind of doing. They both see meaning in terms of dialogue about reasons, which I think should also be strongly associated with Platonic dialogue.

The theory of communicative action is intended mainly as an explanatory theory dealing with questions of publicly addressable fact. It deliberately straddles the boundary between philosophy and social science.

Unlike Brandom, Habermas talks about a formal pragmatics, and a non-standard formal semantics (inspired by Michael Dummet’s argument that verification comes before truth, which also has affinities with constructive logic). Brandom applies a kind of Hegelian dislike of formalism in developing an account of material inference.

Habermas is also the leading promoter of what he calls discourse ethics, about which I’ll have more to say in upcoming posts. Moral Consciousness and Communicative Action (German ed. 1983, English tr. 1990) and Justification and Application: Remarks on Discourse Ethics (German ed. 1991, English tr. 1993) develop his more specific views on ethics and morality. Between Facts and Norms: Contributions to a Discourse Theory of Law and Democracy (German ed.1992, English tr. 1996) applies closely related principles at the level of politics and law. These are large and sophisticated developments, with many nuances that are not very amenable to haiku-like summary, but nonetheless, over the course of a few posts, I hope to capture an overview.

I see Platonic dialogue as a kind of ideal model for what Habermas calls communication, corresponding to what Hegel, Brandom, and Habermas all call mutual recognition. At the same time, the various prerequisites for good dialogue are constitutive for meta-level judgment about our practices of communication in life. This applies as much to overcoming misunderstandings between individuals in personal life, as it does to law and politics.

Next in this series: Communicative Action

Between Good and Evil

Title for this post recalls the English subtitle of Rüdiger Safranski’s biography Martin Heidegger (German ed. 1994, English tr. 1998). I’ll try and keep this relatively short, but I wanted to make few remarks on this and Theodore Kisiel’s The Genesis of Heidegger’s Being and Time (1993). In the last few days I have been pouring over these, with a few specific questions in mind: What led to Heidegger’s profoundly negative view of Plato, Aristotle, and Western philosophy in general? What details are known about the development in his religious views? And what else is known about his political views, and involvement with the Nazis?

In 1907, one of his teachers gave him a copy of Franz Brentano’s dissertation on the meaning of being in Aristotle. Brentano was the one who introduced the medieval term “intentionality” into modern philosophy. Latter, Heidegger enthusiastically read the Logical Investigations of Brentano’s student Husserl. But in 1915, he anticipated a career interpreting medieval philosophy. He was originally going to be a Catholic priest. Some time around 1916, though, he left the Catholic church, citing “epistemological issues”, and for a time identified himself as a “free Christian”. Around the same time, he came into personal contact with Husserl, eventually becoming Husserl’s assistant. His early work under Husserl was devoted mainly to a phenomenology of religion.

Heidegger in his early works favors intuition over reason, and puts a high value on immediacy. He identifies with German romanticism, particularly the work of Schleiermacher on religion. As late as 1921, he still refers to himself as a theologian. An early work on Augustine decries the bad influence of Greek philosophy on Christian theology.

His early philosophical involvements were mainly with medieval philosophy, and with the German philosophy of his own day. Plato and Aristotle hardly figure at all in the story told in these two books, up to the point when Heidegger starts lecturing on them as a supposed expert. He claimed to be working on a book on Aristotle in the early 1920s, but only completed the introduction. He did give several lecture courses on Aristotle, and a couple on Plato.

I used to be fascinated by his discussions on the etymology of Greek philosophical words, but my understanding is that these are not taken very seriously by linguists. As someone who “reads” classical Greek mainly in bilingual editions with heavy use of a dictionary, I came to realize that this kind of informal talk about etymologies did not imply a very deep study of the texts in question, or a very deep knowledge of the language. I could write with great confidence about individual Greek words the way Heidegger does, but I am nowhere near competent to critically discuss major Greek texts in the original.

In 1923, Heidegger apparently had the flash of inspiration that Greek ousia really meant standing presence. Neither the biography nor the study of his early work gives any indication of close textual or historical study of Greek philosophy leading up to this. His attention seems to have been mostly elsewhere. It seems that ousia as presence was no more than a quite unhistorical intuition. But Heidegger apparently had great charisma as a teacher, and he asserted it with great confidence. Cheap shots against Aristotle are an easy sell in the modern world; hardly anyone looks at them critically.

I cannot help but notice that a notion of “presence” does play a significant role in Husserl, while it really does not in Plato or Aristotle. The most plausible hypothesis, I think, is that Heidegger reads a strong notion of presence into Plato and Aristotle because he has been immersed in Husserl, for whom presence is very important.

The biography does fill in a bit more about his involvement with Nazism. Heidegger was originally a Catholic conservative, though he left the church during the First World War. He seems to have supported the Nazis at least as early as 1931. He does not seem to have been personally anti-Semitic, but he was willing to adopt anti-Semitic behavior in order to conform.

In 1933, Safranski says Heidegger was positively “electrified” by Hitler’s ascendance. This had some kind of huge significance for him, and he wanted to give it a profound philosophical meaning. He reportedly even called it a collective emergence from Plato’s cave. Evidently he imagined that there was a world-historical philosophical significance to nazification as a new spiritual era, and he had the hubris to believe that he himself could somehow personally guide the movement. Those last hopes were dashed fairly quickly. They didn’t listen to him at all. He was never part of the Nazi inner circle, and he left his Nazi-appointed university rectorship in 1934. But at least as late as 1935 and perhaps quite a bit longer, he still politically supported the regime.

Later, Heidegger downplayed the Nazi chapter of his life as a simple “error in judgment”. Biographer Safranski does not find this disavowal to be credible. He says there is just too much evidence of how tremendously important these events were for him, and how excited he was about it all. It was the most important thing in his life for over a year. But the great phenomenologist Husserl at one point called this man his best student. The young Hannah Arendt, who would go on to become one of the leading intellectuals of the 20th century in her own right, apparently was really in love with her professor. And I cannot honestly say I am sure that the philosophical positions I have major issues with in themselves lead to fascism or anything like that. But I do find it troubling.

So we end still with deep ambivalence.

Habermas on Heidegger

I don’t usually like to dwell on the negative, but Heidegger has aggressively demeaned Plato, Aristotle, Hegel, and Western philosophy as a whole, and I just stumbled on this. In the 2023 English translation of the first part of his Also a History of Philosophy (German ed. 2019), leading German philosopher and social theorist Jürgen Habermas has some very sharp remarks.

Habermas was only four years old when Hitler took power in 1933. Like many children, he was enrolled in the Hitler Youth. According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, he “was shaken to his core by what he learnt of the Nazi atrocities from the Nuremberg Trials, and news coverage of the Holocaust. Thus, although still in his teens, he experienced 1945 as a turning point that would shape his political and cultural outlook”. In 1953, Habermas was again extremely disturbed when Heidegger published his 1934 Introduction to Metaphysics lectures, without removing a reference to “the inner greatness” of national socialism.

Speaking about Heidegger’s student the philosopher Karl Löwith, who was Jewish and was forced to emigrate, Habermas says “Löwith wants to strip away everything forced and solemnly exalted from the necessary return to the ancient understanding of nature, that gesture of elitist self-dramatization he had come to detest above all in the teaching and comportment, in the character and attitude, of his teacher Martin Heidegger” (p. 26). Elsewhere I read that Löwith himself recounts that when he met Heidegger in Switzerland during the war, Heidegger was wearing his swastika pin. This colors Heidegger’s claim that he had no more identification with the Nazis after 1934.

“[W]ith his concept of the ‘history of being’, Heidegger radicalized [philosophy of history] into a dubious second-level historicism…. Underlying this problematic figure of thought is the infallible claim to truth that Heidegger himself raises for the assertion of a metahistorical ‘occurrence of truth’, which in turn outstrips the already excessively strong claims to truth of the major systems of Western metaphysics” (p. 28).

Being and Time could still have been situated in the context of those major nineteenth- and early twentieth-century intellectual movements, which, since the Young Hegelians, contributed to a detranscendentalization of the world-projecting spontaneity of Kantian subjectivity” (ibid). “But in fact Heidegger’s pretension overshoots all attempts to merely desublimate the transcendental world-projecting subjectivity of the human mind into a spontaneous mode of life in the world” (pp. 28-29).

“Heidegger is indeed a master when it comes to explicating the habitual performative knowledge that enables us to engage in the everyday practices of dealing with whatever we encounter in the world. These convincing analyses of a broad spectrum of lifeworld references of human ‘Dasein’ are, however, deflected onto a different path when Heidegger short-circuits the examination of human beings’ mode of existence with the ontological intention of grasping the being of beings as such…. But since the question of being is internally connected with the question of truth, the ontological redirection of the analytic of Dasein to the question of the being of beings leads to a far-reaching prejudicing of the understanding of truth — namely, the confusion of truth with world disclosure” (p. 29).

This “world disclosure” is a comprehensive name for all immediate experience of appearance, or immediate consciousness. While at some level appearance does deserve a kind of embrace as a necessary condition of life, a resolve to treat immediate appearance as having the final character of an unquestionable revelation makes dialogue impossible.

“By transforming the performatively known ‘how’ of standing in the horizon of our lifeworld into an explicit ‘knowledge’ of ‘what’, Heidegger brings a network of categories and attitudes (the so-called existentials) to consciousness that enables us to see the world and occurrences in it from a certain perspective, to experience it in certain emotional states and to address it under certain aspects. It is the ontological radicalization of this topic of linguistic world disclosure (as he would put it following Humboldt) into the metaphysical question of being and truth that misleads Heidegger into assimilating ‘truth’ to ‘world disclosure’. Heidegger de-differentiates the clearly defined concept of propositional truth by assimilating it to the concept of ‘revealing’ world disclosure” (pp. 29-30).

As a young person, I was seduced by 1960s talk about immediacy and spontaneity, and for a while even took up the idea that what the world needed was a kind of renunciation of the non-immediate.

“The mistake, already implicit in Being and Time, of confusing the truth of propositions with a world disclosure that is ontologized and therefore immune to objections, is what lends the concept of the history of being its force” (p. 30). “In this way, the a priori of ‘world disclosure’ swallows up the critical potential of the ‘claim to truth’, because the power of the capacity to say ‘no’ can no longer extend to the basic conceptual structure in which being interprets itself. The crisis-proneness of the history of being is explained by the dialectical character of this self-interpretation of being: it simultaneously reveals and conceals itself in its epochal destinies. By withholding itself from apprehension, it makes itself felt by human beings as the calamity of God’s ‘absence’ or — in the Hölderlinesque neo-pagan jargon of the zeitgeist — of the gods” (ibid).

It is this immunity to objections that I object to as extremely dangerous.

“With the concept of the history of being, Heidegger interprets Nietzsche’s notion of genealogy in a way that retains from the concept of ideology the moment of historically imposed illusion, but at the same time excludes the possibility of illumination through reflection” (ibid).

The exclusion of reflection and questioning that follows from a fixation on immediacy is the real disaster. All the higher achievements of spirit depend on reflection and mediation. Heidegger claims to expose the dogmatism of all other philosophy, and makes a lot of noise about it. This deflects our attention from the fact that giving strong normative status to immediacy effectively rules out any alternative to dogmatism. There is bad faith in these accusations, and if we try to resist, bad faith will be unfairly projected onto to us, which is the most insidious aspect of all this.

“Heidegger blames science and technology for the crisis from which supposedly only a return to the origins of Greek mythology — reaching back behind even the axial threshold of the Platonic logos and the God of the Old Testament — can rescue us. His fixation on the question of being leads him to focus on the deficiencies of theoretical and not — as in Schmitt and Strauss — of practical reason. Ultimately, the fateful alienation from the origin is implicit in reason itself” (pp. 30-31).

This discussion of Heidegger is part of a larger critique by Habermas of 20th-century claims by conservative authors like Schmitt and Strauss that central Enlightenment values like reason, freedom, and equal rights inevitably lead modernity into moral crisis.

“Even simple predicative statements, with which the discursive unfolding of possible cognitions as such begins, already involve an objectivistic ‘distortion’ of the pre-predicative, purely performative ‘know-how’. This deficiency inherent in the operations of reason is supposed to be the result of an act of objectivization that suppresses all connections and holistic references with which we are acquainted only in performance — and fatefully ‘forgets’ them” (p. 31).

There is a huge difference between recognizing that simple predications can be taken in a dogmatic way, and claiming that they inevitably, intrinsically lead to crisis and disaster.

As Habermas writes with obvious irony, “Against this background of a devaluation of the ‘normal’ concept of reason, philosophers are promoted into thinkers and, together with the poets, are sworn to a nondiscursive ‘apprehension of being'” (ibid).

Henceforth, according to Heidegger, philosophy should concern itself exclusively with putative poetic revelation, and reject everything that is not such a revelation. Opposite to this, I think both poetry and religion fare better when what is called revelation is understood as a kind of poetic expression that may be intensely meaningful for us, but does not serve to exclude anything.

What gives standard assertion its weight or “bite” is the fact that it has meaning by virtue of distinguishing from what would contradict it. But one poetic expression does not contradict another. Treating poetic expression as a “revelation” of truth rather than as figurative undoes its character as poetic expression. Claims of revelation introduce a literalism or incipient fundamentalism that is the opposite of a poetic spirit.

Ethical Meaning of Autonomy

The significance of the autonomy of reason defended by Kant and Hegel is primarily ethical. It is not a claim about the power of epistemology or ontology to know the truth. The autonomy of reason stands for free inquiry about ethics and normativity, in contrast to the authoritarianism of what Brandom calls the “command/obedience” model of normative authority. This has nothing at all to do with excessive knowledge claims or objectification, or with what Derrida called logocentrism. Instead it’s about reasonableness and respect for people. (See also New Biography of Hegel.)

Poetic Thinking

In a sort of postscript, Pippin makes a few comments on Heidegger’s valorization of poetry.

“The later Heidegger’s work is dominated by reflections on thinking, poetry, and language. That is, his focus remains on the meaningfulness of Being, now as embodied in language and material works of art, not in Dasein’s comportment and actions…. Moreover, he constantly stresses the great difficulty of the uncovering or disclosing striven for in any understanding of the meaning of Being, going so far as to note frequently that this requires a kind of ‘violence’ on our part to ‘achieve’ such openness” (The Culmination, p. 205).

I am troubled by this invocation of necessary violence. On the one hand it could serve as a metaphor for the difficulty of dislodging prejudices, but in recent years I have come to worry more, hearing talk about violence from a philosopher who is generally weak on ethics, and who evidently believed in 1933 that Hitler’s rise could somehow lead to a better, more spiritual Germany, saving the world from capitalism and communism.

“We have noted several times that Heidegger’s charge of forgetfulness and the consequences of this forgetfulness in a technological, spiritless, even nihilistic world would be empty were there not some contrast with this rejection of the prioritization of discursive intelligibility as the thinking proper to sources of meaning in an epoch” (p. 206).

“The most familiar term for this new sort of thinking is ‘poetic’, by which Heidegger means in very general terms the authentic sort of contemplative activity, expressed in a suitable language, rightly attuned to the disclosure of meaningfulness” (p. 207).

“Poetry is now treated in the terms used for what is demanded of ‘thinking’, the uncovering of meaningful existence as being-in-the-world…. In what we would call modernist poetry, Rilke’s especially, this is an attunement to what is missing, to evoking our sense of dependence on a primordial site of possible meaningfulness that seems available only by its continuing elusiveness or decay…. At this point, however, turning to Heidegger’s voluminous work on Hölderlin and poetry would amount to beginning another book” (p. 208).

Pippin doesn’t really seem very sanguine about this.

“There is only so far one can go in what amounts to promises about the resources of nineteenth and twentieth century German poetry. The general remarks soon become repetitious, and at that level of generality the promises about the potential weightiness and depth of thought in poetic thinking, especially as some sort of new alternative to Plato, Leibniz, Kant, and Hegel, cannot be persuasive” (ibid).

“Paradoxically, Heidegger makes clear… that he does not mean that the task of poetry is to render the unsaid sayable; it is precisely to disclose such meaning in its unsayability, obviously a difficult and paradoxical notion…. A good deal of Heidegger’s commentary is like this, an explication of something evoked that cannot be named; something disclosed but with no determinate content, a revelation with nothing revealed (no determinate content but not mere absence); rather an evocation of absence with [such] density of possible inflections and implications that it defies critical paraphrase” (p. 210).

In my youth, I wrote reams of linguistically thick deconstructionist prose poetry myself, imagining that I was disclosing great unsayable secrets of the universe through Finnegan’s Wake-like word salads, and that this was superior to any theoretical construction. Today, though I no longer actively dwell on it, I still in principle recognize a kind of poetic truth that seems to at least partly escape ordinary discursive articulation, but would not claim it to be superior, only a kind of supplement whose role is hard to specify.

Back to beginning of this series: Pippin’s The Culmination

Heidegger vs Hegel

Returning to Pippin’s book, we finally arrive at the main act, a philosophical clash of titans. But the conflict takes place under very uneven conditions, because Hegel was not around to defend himself, and until recently, virtually no one else stood up for him either. The Frankfurt School critical theorist Theodor Adorno bucked the trend of Continental enthusiasm for Heidegger in The Jargon of Authenticity (1964), but Adorno had no interest in defending Hegel.

“Heidegger’s interest in Hegel is prepared for and accompanied by his growing attention to Kant and the entire German Idealist tradition. He lectured on German Idealism in 1929, the same year as his remarkable book on Kant, Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics, appeared. He lectured on Hegel’s Phenomenology in 1930/31, on Kant’s transcendental principles (this would become the basis of the book The Question Concerning the Thing) in 1935/36, on Schelling’s On the Essence of Human Freedom in 1936, and on The Metaphysics of German Idealism in 1941. He continued to publish on the Idealists in the later phases of his career as well, as in his acute formulations of his differences with Hegel in Identity and Difference in 1957 and his evaluation of the importance of ‘overcoming Hegel’, and Hegel’s idealism, became more and more prominent” (The Culmination, p. 139).

In my youth, Identity and Difference was a significant text for me. Heidegger’s positive thesis, which I rightly or wrongly understood to be that difference is in every way that matters prior to identity, was just what I wanted to hear at the time, so I did not look too critically into Heidegger’s negative claim that Hegel privileges identity, especially since it seemed consistent with general scholarly consensus about Hegel.

However, the “speculative identity” by which Hegel overcomes various oppositions, like that between subject and object, is clearly very different from the formal identity whose very definition is the absence of difference — a distinction Heidegger seems to refuse to recognize. As we have seen across many posts, Hegel constantly criticizes formalism and objectification. Hegelian speculative identity should be understood rather as comparable to Aristotelian hylomorphism — a kind of practical inseparability that is compatible with irreducible difference.

Pippin summarizes Heidegger’s basic stance toward Hegel. “Hegel must be overcome by radicalizing the way in which the problem [of the meaning of Being] is put; and at the same time, he must be ‘appropriated'” (ibid).

This will be a complex maneuver. Heidegger will aggressively read into Hegel a stance on Heidegger’s own trademark question of the meaning of Being, and he will attribute an epoch-making significance to Hegel’s expression of this stance. He will aim not simply to refute Hegel, but rather to show that various things Hegel says are right, then ultimately to turn the tables and claim that Hegel convicts himself of Heidegger’s charges.

The charges meanwhile seem to involve something much more insidious and far-reachingly horrible than just being wrong. Heidegger wants to make philosophy somehow globally responsible for the ills of the modern age. It all gets started from his imposition of an interpretation that redefines the aims of all philosophy since Plato. For someone like myself who cares a great deal about philosophy from Plato to Hegel and identifies with it, this frankly feels comparable to gaslighting and emotional blackmail. Our best impulses are turned against us, and twisted into evidence of something bad.

“Fulfillment …could mean that the basic problems posed by Greek philosophy were ‘solved’ by Hegel, such that there is no longer philosophical work to do. But it could also mean that the distortions and obscurities inherent in the metaphysical tradition were taken on and thought through by Hegel to the point where it became clear (not to him, but retrospectively) that the whole tradition had ‘culminated’ in a dead end…. Heidegger means that Hegel has made the clearest of anyone the inevitable commitment by Western philosophy (Platonism) to the metaphysics of presence” (p. 140).

I agree that the metaphysics of presence is horrible, but I don’t think it is fairly attributed to Plato, Aristotle, Kant, or Hegel, but rather to those who privilege consciousness or immediacy. Far from being oriented toward pure presence, the way of philosophy from Plato to Hegel is rather to be identified with the long detour. Philosophy is what teaches us to look beyond mere presence. If the metaphysics of presence nonetheless does have a deadening hold on human culture, that is due not to philosophy but to a lack of philosophy.

“[I]dealism in this sense invokes the deepest principle of Western rationalism, the principle Heidegger is so interested in illuminating: ‘to be is to be rationally intelligible’…. The most famous way of putting it looms large in Heidegger’s account: there is an identity of thinking and being…. Given that, the world as it matters to us is available because of our conceptual and explanatory capacities'” (p. 141).

Heidegger claims that the pre-Socratics did better than all later philosophers. Identity of thinking and being specifically recalls one of the surviving fragments from Parmenides. Based on the radical conclusions that Parmenides and his follower Zeno drew from this assertion, this really does seem to be a claim of formal identity. This is all very ironic in context, because Hegel is the original great critic of formal identity. Hegelian “speculative” identity is patterned on Aristotelian hylomorphism, and also anticipates Paul Ricoeur’s notion of “narrative identity”.

“We should recall that idealism in this tradition… should not be understood as a claim about the mind-dependence of the world or about mind-imposed structure in experience or as a so-called objective idealism (a claim about the nonmaterial nature of the real, in favor of its ideal or immaterial nature), but first and foremost as an objection to empiricism, the claim that all knowledge is or must be based on empirical experience. By contrast, idealism in Kant, Fichte, and Hegel is a claim about the capacity of pure (empirically unaided) reason to determine that all that is knowable is knowable, and how it is knowable. Since this amounts to a claim about the normative authority of knowledge claims, and since it is pure reason alone that demonstrates such normative authority, this means that human reason is to be understood to be self-authorizing, a tribunal unto itself” (p. 140).

Heidegger explicitly puts the Kantian/Hegelian autonomy of reason in a negative light. Derrida’s Heidegger-inspired term “logocentrism” concisely captures Heidegger’s negative view of the autonomy of reason as making unsupportable knowledge claims, and as promoting bad, presumptuous epistemology and ontology. Heidegger really does not at all address Kant and Hegel’s own primarily ethical motivations for defending the autonomy of reason.

Heidegger is not dealing in any of the common clichés about idealism. But to my surprise, Pippin goes further, and says he thinks Heidegger understands key aspects of German idealism — and especially the significance of Hegel’s Logic and the relation of logic to metaphysics — better than anyone else.

Pippin thinks that Heidegger is the only one who anticipated Pippin’s own thesis that for Hegel, “logic” (i.e., Kantian transcendental logic and Hegel’s own development of it) really is “metaphysics” in the sense of an account of being qua being. Indeed, Heidegger does also seem to recognize that “logic” for Hegel has a very different meaning from that commonly ascribed to it. From my point of view, this all poses quite a challenge, because up to now I have been very impressed with Pippin’s reading of Hegel, even though I put much less weight on the “logic is metaphysics” claim than he does, and reject the being-qua-being interpretation of Aristotle.

“The idealist claim is that pure thinking can specify the possibility of the determinability of anything at all. In so doing, idealism is a metaphysics. For Heidegger, this all indicates an errancy, a distortion from the start, since, for one thing, thought’s focus is on ‘the beings’, or what is required for a being to be the being it is. It leaves unanswered, ‘unthought’, the meaningfulness of Being itself” (p. 143).

Heidegger does not like questions about what things are or why they are the way they are. Instead, he refers us to the mystifying notion of a Being that is not a being, not an abstraction, not the Christian God, and not a Spinozist whole, but is the ground of all beings. Contrary to this, I want to advocate the position that emphasis should be on seeking the richest possible understanding of “the beings”. For one thing, I believe that all beings should be treated with fundamental respect (see also Regard for Objects). Emphasis on the alleged ontic-ontological difference puts all real beings (whatever they may be) in an unfairly negative light. I do not claim to be presuppositionless in this, only to be open to any sincere attempt at dialogue.

Knowledge of the mere “possibility of the determinability” of anything at all does not presuppose actual knowledge of any particular determination, or any knowledge of existence. Hegel’s most far-reaching claim is that reason as higher-order reflection can evaluate “possibilities of determinability”, independent of the evaluation of concrete cases. This is related to the way that Kant investigates the conditions of the possibility of this or that. As Hegel himself also says, this “transcendental logic” that he practices in common with Kant is a “realm of shadows”. I would say that truth or falsity in the mundane sense only comes into the picture when we come back to interpreting concrete cases, in ways that take the long detour into account.

Pippin explains that Hegel’s motivation is to show that there cannot be any self-sufficient epistemology or, as Pippin puts it, that epistemology cannot be separated from metaphysics.

“[Hegel’s approach] amounts to an attempt to show that any isolation of the question of whether the subject’s putative cognitive powers are actually adequate for the task of cognition, knowledge of reality as it is in itself, ignores the fact that any such conception of the powers of knowing presupposes a conception of the proper knowables. If we ignore that connection and take ourselves to be focusing on our cognitive powers alone, we inevitably end up with skepticism, since there is no way from ‘outside’ the attempt at knowing to measure the exercise of these powers against what really is. (The ‘view from nowhere’ is nowhere, nowhere any finite being could ascend to.)” (p. 144).

Heidegger “disagrees with the dogmatic assumption that the meaningfulness of Being in its availability is originally its knowability…. ‘[F]initist’ critiques often draw large implications from what I believe to be a distorted interpretation of Hegel. However, … Heidegger has, with some glaring exceptions, a sophisticated, deep, highly accurate, and insightful reading of what Hegel was trying to do in his main text, The Science of Logic” (p. 145).

It seems to me that in claiming that Kant and Hegel put “knowability” first, Heidegger is assimilating them both to a neo-Kantian reading of Kant. Part of the basis of this is that Hegel wants to call self-consciousness a kind of knowledge, although self-consciousness does not seem to meet the conditions Aristotle lays out for knowledge (episteme) in general. I think Hegelian self-consciousness mainly has to do with apprehension of meaning and values, rather than knowledge in a strict sense, which is a relatively rare thing.

Pippin goes on to briefly discuss “idealism” in Kant, Fichte, and Hegel.

“Eventually, I want to say that Hegel’s most important potential contributions have been both misunderstood and undervalued, even by Heidegger, for all the power and depth of his interpretation…. Let me proceed to a ridiculously brief summation of the idealist ambition” (p. 146).

While I admire Pippin’s attempt to be even-handed, I must take exception to the claim of “power and depth” here. It may be true that there is a narrow slice of the argument of Hegel’s Logic that Heidegger has read better than others, but in view of how appallingly misconceived common views of Hegel are, this is not necessarily much of a compliment. Pippin is clearly impressed that Heidegger anticipates Pippin’s own view that what Hegel is doing in the Logic really is a kind of what Aristotle would call first philosophy.

“The central idealist claim began with Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason and his assumption that reason was capable of determining what it was entitled to claim and capable also of restricting itself if it could not provide such authority. This almost immediately generated the concern that such an enterprise would not only end in a destructive skepticism but in an all-destructive ‘nihilism’ (F.H. Jacobi’s original coinage), leaving nothing of moral substance or objective status standing” (ibid).

Here the two claims are that reason can determine for itself what it is entitled to claim, and that it is capable of limiting itself to what it is entitled to. These two abilities are both clearly different from any putative first-order “knowledge” about how things are.

“[A] priori knowledge, while in some sense to be specified ultimately about the world, consists in thinking’s or reason’s knowledge of itself“…. This is what distinguishes classical rationalism from idealism, as Hegel (and Kant) understood it. The former holds that reason has access to its proper objects outside itself; the latter that the object of pure thinking is itself…. One long-dominant interpretation of Hegel on this point … holds that these two claims can be both assertible only if what there ‘really’ is, ‘the really real world’, what is accessible only to pure reason alone, is itself thought … something like the Absolute’s or God’s thinking itself…. Pure thought thinking itself is the manifestation of the noesis noeseos, God thinking himself, or it is the divine-like apprehension of the noetic reality that underlies experienced appearances. I cannot do so here, but I have argued for some time that this interpretation does not fit the text (p. 147).

For Aristotle too, the object of “pure” thinking is itself. That is to say that what is called “pure” thinking is distinguishable specifically as a higher-order thinking, or thinking about thinking that inquires by sincerely questioning itself. Contrary to what one might think based on common connotations of “purity”, this typically occurs in a mixed context that also involves thinking about some concrete beings. I call this mixture interpretation. It occurs in the course of thinking other things, and always has an implicit or explicit ethical dimension, or rather it is the ethical dimension. Kant and Hegel call this “reflection” in a specialized sense that I also relate to Aristotelian contemplation (see multiple articles under Subjectivity and Hegel). This more developed Aristotelian-Kantian-Hegelian notion is what I want to say that “thinking” is. Hegelian mutual recognition and Platonic dialogue are based on socially shared versions of this kind of reflection.

“Pure thinking’s object is itself but not as an object or event; rather, its object is the thinking also interrogating thinking — a circle, not a dyadic relation. Hence the provocative notion of ‘infinity’, without beginning or end” (ibid).

(For Aristotle, the circle is a symbol for entelechy rather than infinity, but in spite of his general finitism, Aristotle does hold that time has no beginning or end.)

“In the most decisive case in the tradition for Heidegger, the dependence in question is what Kant emphasized, the dependence of thinking on sensible intuition, of pure thinking on pure intuition…. Hegel’s prioritization of the Concept — in his terms, the identification of the Absolute as concept — is said to be a prioritization of absolute subjectivity and so to require a relation to what is other than thought, nature, as pure domination…. It would be hard to overstate the influence of such an argument form … from Schelling to Heidegger and Adorno” (p. 148).

“Absolute subjectivity as pure domination” is completely abhorrent, and completely un-Hegelian. Hegel never endorsed one-sided “domination” in any context. Ethical reciprocity is one of his fundamental concerns (see New Biography of Hegel). What is true is that questions of meaning and interpretation in a certain way encompass all other questions.

“In Hegel’s treatment, the topic of pure thinking is presented as having nothing to do with the existing human thinker, the subject, consciousness, the mind. Rather, the topic raises as a problem the possibility of the intelligibility of even whatever is being touted as pre-conscious source or hidden origin, the intelligibility of what is assumed in any such determinate identification as a knowledge claim, even of the ‘neither subject nor object’. That is either something available for some kind of apprehension or it is not. If it is, it must be subject to some regime of intelligibility for this determinacy to be accounted for. This is what Heidegger denies when he insists that the meaning of Being, Being as such, is not ‘a’ being and not subject to the requirements of determinacy. Insisting it begs the question” (pp. 148-149).

Intelligibles act “in” us, rather than “on” us. The common prejudice that we talking animals should understand ourselves as subjects in a syntactic sense is not shared by Aristotle or Hegel.

“In face of this, if someone simply persists in asking ‘but where is all this thinking and explaining happening?’ all one can reply is ‘wherever there is thinking’. This is not to say that there is not always a thinker or subject of thought; it is to say that thought that can be truth-bearing is constituted by what is necessary for truth-bearing, by any being of whatever sort capable of objective (possibly true or false) judgment…. Any such criticism, insofar as it is a thinking, a judging, a claim to know, is always already a manifestation of dependence on pure thinking and its conditions, and such ‘moments’ of pure thinking are to delimit (but not to limit) the normative domain of intelligibility (what can rightly be distinguished from what, or rightly posited as ‘ground’, for example) and not any process or series of events that goes on in supposed independence of the empirical world. Pure thinking, as Hegel understands it, is neither dependent on nor independent from the empirical, or from materiality or the brain or the ‘indifference point’ or whatever new ‘absolute’ comes into fashion” (p. 149).

Intelligibility is not thing-like, and intelligent beings are better understood as not thing-like either. I think that intelligence and intelligibility are inherently not self-contained. Self-containedness would correlate to a kind of stupor. Like Meister Eckhart, I might say that my awareness is over there in the wood I am looking at. To participate in intelligence is to transcend narrow boundaries of self.

“[This] is, rather, to argue for the autonomy of the question of ‘any thinking at all’, whatever the existential status of the thinker” (p. 150).

Shareable thought doesn’t really have an owner, even though it does have a history.

“In knowing itself, what pure thought knows is the possible intelligibility, the knowability, of anything that is. But the intelligibility of anything is just what it is to be that thing, to be determinately ‘this-such’ (tode ti), the answer to the ‘what is it’ (ti esti) question definitive of metaphysics since Aristotle” (p. 151).

The “self” in self-knowledge is not a substantial thing, but a reflective relatedness.

“Kant and Heidegger agree that at the most basic level, thought is finite because thought, understanding, knowledge, cannot create its own objects; it depends on a comportment toward what is other than the subject. With things set up that way, it looks like Hegel’s claim for the infinity of thought is a claim that thought does create its own objects. That is not at all his position, but it remains a common interpretation” (ibid).

Thought does not “create” what goes by the name of external reality.

“The other Kantian claim of massive importance to [Heidegger’s] critique of idealism is his argument… that pure thinking can arrive nowhere, certainly not at the determination of the ‘horizon’ of all possible objectivity, without being everywhere not only intertwined with but dependent on sensibility, especially with the ‘sensible’ faculty of the imagination” (ibid).

Thought has a dependence on imagination and sensation. Even “pure” thinking may be said to have such dependencies.

“We should note the change in emphasis insisted on by Hegel. The new metaphysics, logic, concerns things as grasped, gefaßt, in thought, whereas the old metaphysics was a thing-metaphysics” (p. 153).

Philosophy should address meanings rather than “things”.

“Kant and Hegel certainly share the so-called discursivity thesis (which Heidegger does not). Thinking for both is exclusively a spontaneous or productive power, in no sense a perceptual or passive, receptive capacity. It would be hard to exaggerate the magnitude of this common assumption. More than anything else, it sounds the death knell of traditional rationalism, and it plays a crucial role at the decisive beginning of the Logic, where Hegel demonstrates that the thought of mere ‘being’ can be no actual thought at all, its indeterminacy renders it a mere ‘nothing’ without some predicative determination other than the mere thought, being” (p. 155).

Here I have to pause, because the idea that thought is not just significantly or mainly but exclusively active seems me to be an overstatement of an otherwise good point. At the very least, hylomorphism and the inter-embeddedness of thought with sensation ensure that “we” are not exclusively active.

“Kant had also already realized that the pure forms of thought were not features of the human thinker, were not in that sense psychologically subjective, but necessary for any discursive thinker, which means any non-divine thinker. But since these forms of judgment are the forms of any possible truth-bearer, and since truth is either truth or not, it makes no sense to say that these forms delimit something like ‘what is merely true for discursive thinkers’. There is no such thing as ‘truth for X’, even if there is ‘what seems true to X’. The ‘subjectivizing’ elements in Kant are, though species-specific, the pure forms of intuition. And if we reject that doctrine, as Hegel does, we can return to a position like Aristotle’s, where we can study being by studying the forms of predication” (p. 156).

As he says, contrary to some well-meaning attempts to be generous that fall into subjectivism, there is no such thing as a separate “truth for me”, only what seems true to me. It is only appearance that can be immediate and private.

The way Pippin expresses the point about the non-psychological character of thought here nicely minimizes the difference between Kant and Hegel. But Aristotle’s concern with statement-making is normative and not grammatical. The association of Aristotelian statement-making with mere predication is a common error that loses the essential normative dimension of criteria that make something properly said. To put it another way, Aristotle’s concern is not with any random saying, but with how things are properly said to be.

“At some point, and it doesn’t matter (for philosophy) at what point or how, natural organisms reach a level of complexity and organization such that they begin to become occupied with themselves and eventually to engage each other and to understand themselves in ways no longer appropriately explicable within the boundaries of explanations proper to nature considered apart from such capacities. Hegel’s language about this is everywhere practical, not substantive. It is not that Hegel is denying that self-consciousness and intentional agency are facts. He is claiming that no fact about the organic properties of such beings accounts for what it is to be self-conscious or agents, and there is no need for the positing of nonmaterial entities or capacities” (p. 158).

The “practical” aspect is essential here. Ethics, broadly construed, is for Kant and Hegel prior to epistemology and ontology.

“Of course, spirit remains embodied and so subject to mixed explanations, in which its natural properties bear on its activities as spirit…. Consider this passage from the Lectures on Fine Art. ‘Art by means of its representations, while remaining within the sensuous sphere, liberates man at the same time from the power of sensuousness. Of course we may often hear favorite phraseology about man’s duty to remain in immediate unity with nature; but such unity, in its abstraction, is purely and simply rudeness and ferocity, and by dissolving this unity for man, art lifts him with gentle hands out of and above imprisonment in nature'” (p. 159).

Art lifts us with gentle hands. This is important to mention, because Hegel is being accused of logocentrism.

“It doesn’t matter that there are also natural-scientific explanations for what happens in the body and brain when all this occurs, or when we make or enjoy art. The question that has emerged — the only emergence that is relevant — is whether the norm, art, has been rightly and fully realized, or whether the justifications agents offer each other and themselves can in fact be defended, whether the structure of ethical life is consistent with the potential of such a self-liberating being. There is no need to appeal to a vitalist, self-dirempting nature to account for any of this…. This is so for Hegel because the dynamic in question is historical, not biological, even though it clearly has numerous specific natural-organic conditions and involves no commitment to anything non-natural. Correspondingly, the question of the possibility of freedom is not for Hegel a question about the possibility of how a spontaneous causal agency exists in a material world. His theory is a self-realization theory, and that asks for the right achievement in our understanding of ourselves and in our relations to others, again a historical and social question, not one that descends from any account of substance” (ibid).

“I have been suggesting that far and away the deepest, most thoughtful engagement with Idealist and especially Hegelian thought in post-Hegelian philosophy is Heidegger’s. In fact, a good case can be made that Heidegger’s distinction among all such anti-Idealism positions is that his is the first genuine confrontation with Hegel in all the post-Hegelian European tradition” (p. 161).

Heidegger might have been the big-name 20th-century philosopher whose treatment of Hegel was the least worst, but that is really not saying much. However, first in Germany after World War II and now for several decades in the English-speaking world, Hegel scholarship has improved tremendously, and Pippin himself has played a significant part in this.

“[E]specially important is what was published as the second part of Identity and Difference…. Heidegger goes immediately and directly to the heart of Hegel’s enterprise and states it accurately as just what it is. Heidegger tells us that the subject matter, the Sache, of thinking for Hegel is ‘thinking as such’ (Denken als solches). And he immediately adds exactly the right qualification. ‘In order not to misinterpret this definition of the matter — thinking as such — in psychological or epistemological terms, we must add by way of explanation: thinking as such — in the developed fullness in which what has been thought…, has been and now is thought” (ibid).

As I mentioned, this work was significant to me in my youth. But at that time I had no glimmer that I would come to appreciate Hegel as much as I do now, and to take issue with any reading that makes Hegel out as a partisan of strong Identity. That many people can’t be wrong, can they? But they were. Hegel’s “speculative” identity is clearly not a formal or strong identity. It is more like Aristotelian hylomorphism, to the point where I wonder why he calls it identity at all, instead of nonseparation or something like that.

“That is, Hegel thinks of thinking as Being, and not as a subjective epistemological condition; or, said conversely, Being is only available in any sense in its thinkability. Heidegger realizes that pure thinking’s taking itself as object does not result in a mere theory of thinking, or the rules of thinking, or a ‘philosophy of pure cognition’. As Heidegger says directly, for Hegel, ‘being is the absolute self-thinking of thinking’. The last thing that Heidegger means by this is that Being is mental activity, whether human or divine” (ibid).

So far so good.

“Because of his own approach, Heidegger is in a unique position to realize that the subject matter of the Logic is not in any sense whatever a being, not ‘the’ Absolute’s self-positing, not the noetic structure of the world, not abstract objects, not the mind of the Christian God, not a substance, but, in his language, the meaning of Being, the Sinn des Seins. As he puts it in his distinctive language, ‘The Being of beings reveals itself as the ground that gives itself ground and accounts for itself. The ground, the ratio by their essential origin are the logos, in the sense of the gathering of beings and letting them be. They are the hen panta [One-All]. And he tells us what he thinks Hegel means by logic. ‘We now understand the name “logic”… as the name for that kind of thinking which everywhere provides and accounts for the ground of beings as such within the whole in terms of being as ground (logos). The fundamental character is onto-theo-logic'” (p. 162).

Here I come to a big doubt. The negative setup is nice. But then we are told that Being, which is not any of those things, is the ground of beings. Heidegger has no compliments for the Thomistic notion of God that was traditionally supposed to represent pure Being in a “full” sense. He insists that Being is not a being and certainly not the Creator, but his notion seems to be even much further removed from that thinnest of abstractions that is sometimes suggested. But Heidegger’s Being has in common with Aquinas’s idea of God that it is supposed to be the ground of beings. Late in life Heidegger made cryptic statements like “only a god can save us”, but he made it clear that the Christian God could not meet his qualifications.

“The ‘divine’ at stake in what Heidegger means by theo-logic is, he constantly explains, not a being, not anyone to whom we can pray or play music to or dance to, he notes with a hint of contempt….. [B]ecause … thinking is self-grounding and thereby serves as ground (for any being being intelligibly what it is), this thinking is also ‘theology’ because it concerns the causa sui. Pure thinking is productive and self-generating” (ibid).

Causa sui is “cause of itself”, which implicitly brings in all the questions about the nature of causality. Traditionally, some writers have applied this term to God. (On the other hand, Aristotle says there is no such thing as self-motion — that a thing that appears to be self-moving is better understood by distinguishing a mover part from a moved part. His first cause is not a “self”-mover, but a first unmoved mover, and he sees motion as belonging on the side of the moved thing. But a mover for Aristotle is a more specific notion than a cause. See Moved, Unmoved.)

The Kantian/Hegelian autonomy of reason is neither a self-motion nor a self-moving thing. Can it be assimilated to the notion of something being the cause of itself? I don’t think it is intended to work in the register of causality in the modern sense. And what Aristotle proposes instead of self-motion is the notion of entelechy.

“From his interpretation of Hegel in [Being and Time] on, Heidegger has emphasized … that this ground-giving is what Hegel means by the Concept ‘giving itself its own content’, and this by means of the beating heart of the dialectical process. That is, in Hegel’s language, the Concept is ‘self-negating negativity’. Thinking is discriminating, differentiating, and thus determining, and this is possible by any ‘moment of pure thinking’s differentiation of itself from its other, its self-negating. That self-negating means its lack of self-sufficient determinacy, and this by means of its essential relation to and differentiation from its ‘other’. It thereby returns to a moment of stability and putative sufficiency. It negates its own negation of that original self-sufficiency and ‘momentarily’ reestablishes it, only to require again a self-negating of this putative independence and internal self-definition” (pp. 162-163).

Heidegger also apparently preceded Pippin in explicitly recognizing the importance of Kantian unity of apperception in Hegel.

“Heidegger is right that this is one way of formulating Hegel’s attempt to establish an internal derivation of the moments of pure thinking required for the determinacy necessary for anything to be what it is. And here Heidegger is again correct when he claims that behind this in Hegel, what can account for the source of this development, is the apperceptive character of any thinking, that any moment of thinking is a self-conscious moment and so aware of the commitment it undertakes to establish the determinacy of a conceptual moment” (p. 163).

“But Heidegger continually interprets this ‘presence of the I to itself’ in a Cartesian way, as if it is the I’s demand for such a ‘presence’ (that meaning of Being that is the original sin of Western metaphysics) to itself as the telos implicit in any moment of thinking, an interpretation that construes what Hegel is doing in a formal way and that neglects the way Hegel wants to make his case on the basis of the internal self-negation of the conceptual moment. To use the formulation of the [Phenomenology], ‘thought disturbs thoughtlessness’ because of the incompatible commitment created by such incomplete thinking, not because of a subjective dissatisfaction and demand (ibid).

It is quite a mystery to me why Hegel is so complimentary to Descartes in his history of philosophy lectures, when Hegel’s own philosophy is so anti-Cartesian. Clearly he feels antipathy toward scholasticism, although like many modern writers, he knows it mainly from a few sketchy stereotypes. Perhaps that explains the great relief he expresses on getting to Descartes.

The language emphasizing conflicting commitments versus subjective demand makes an important point. This is another way in which we can have major concern for subjectivity, without centrally referencing an ego-like substantial subject.

“For Hegel, again as Heidegger understands him, to be is necessarily to be determinate (a this-such, discriminable from any other ‘such’) and the requirements of determinacy were also the requirements for anything to count as a being…. The beginning of wisdom for the early Heidegger is that, on the contrary, there was clearly a being not at all comprehensible as, not at all being, ‘determinate’: the being Heidegger called ‘Dasein’ precisely to indicate that it was not a determinate this-such” (p. 164).

Here we get to a major point of dispute. Classic early Heidegger’s Dasein seems to inherit some of the paradoxical characteristics of the Aristotelian intellect that is “nothing at all” until it begins to think, but unlike Aristotelian intellect it seemingly is supposed to refer to a whole human being. Ironically, this combination puts it in territory close to that of the scholastic “intellectual soul”, which I’m sure Heidegger had no patience for.

Heidegger wants to call Dasein an openness rather than an essence. The notion seems to be that essence applies only to caged or fossilized things. This led to Sartre’s claim that “existence precedes essence”, where existence becomes another name for Dasein. For practical purposes Dasein seems to be largely equivalent to a human “consciousness”, albeit one outfitted with existentialist characteristics. I on the other hand take a rather dim view of the promotion of mere being and mere consciousness, and aim to recover a more interesting, specific, and useful notion of essence (importance; the making of distinctions) that has nothing to do with fossils or cages.

“Dasein is openness to the meaning of Being itself, ‘being there’ at the site of any manifestation of such meaning. There could be no logos in the Hegelian sense to a being, Dasein, that was what it took itself to be, a being whose mode of being is to-be, existence, a self-interpreting being…. Such a being could never be simply ‘what it is'” (ibid).

I see, more simply: openness to meaning. With a revitalized notion of essence, we have all that we need. It is Being with a capital “B” that is a reification.

“[Heidegger] notes approvingly that Hegel’s approach is developmental, not deductive, and that this developing thought-thinking-thinking is intertwined with the history of thought, with the history of philosophy…. ‘The only Western thinker who has thoughtfully experienced the history of thought is Hegel” (p. 165).

Heidegger does get points for recognizing the extreme importance of the history of philosophy. He is right that Hegel more or less invented the philosophical history of philosophy. (Besides Hegel, several contemporary French writers, including Alain de Libera, Olivier Boulnois, and Gwenaëlle Aubry, have made significant contributions to what they call philosophical archaeology, which is another kind of philosophical history of philosophy. This is an outgrowth of Michel Foucault’s “archaeology of knowledge”, which ironically was originally conceived by Foucault as radically anti-Hegelian. Much less satisfactory to my mind, but also related, is the “storytelling” motif promoted by Richard Rorty.)

“While Hegel thinks the ultimate identity of thinking and being, Heidegger’s basic thought is about difference” (ibid).

That is how Heidegger presents the matter. I think he actually has a less interesting, less supple account of difference than Hegel does, and I don’t believe the myth of Hegel as an identitarian. Blind pursuit of identity is about the furthest thing from Hegel that I could imagine.

Hegel was supposed to be the sneaky one, making us think we were escaping the bad stuff, while actually pulling us in deeper. Heidegger largely invented this now pervasive trope, which is more sophisticated than the head-on confrontations with Hegel that we see in Schelling and Kierkegaard.

“If we take our bearings only from [Being and Time], then we can put the point in Schelling’s way: we would say that the mark of thinking’s finitude is the ‘unreachability’ of human existence itself…. It remains ineffable, not available…. [Existence] finds itself uncanny, not at home anywhere, the anxious, null basis of a nullity, something it cannot help but flee in a tranquilizing (‘falling’) everydayness. But once Heidegger has fully shifted attention to the problem of metaphysics, another issue looms much larger: the absolute difference between Being and beings, our inevitable confusing of the question ‘what is it to be?’ with ‘what is it to be this or that being?'” (p. 166).

For Heidegger, the most important feature of difference is what he calls the ontic-ontological difference, Being versus beings. He doesn’t really care about all the richness and diversity of particular beings, only for the one thing, Being, which he insists is not an abstraction and is not God. For me the richness and diversity of particular beings is everything, and is endlessly liberating.

“Hegel does insist that the question of Being necessarily always amounts to a question about what it is to be this or that being. That is the result of the first moment of the Being Logic, and it is that moment where the deepest ‘confrontation’ (Auseinandersetzung) with Heidegger must take place. In this, as in so much else, Hegel follows Aristotle. Being is said in many ways, but there is a primacy to being as tode ti, a this-such, determinate being” (ibid).

“Kant, Hegel, and Fichte wanted to say that the only assumption necessary for an account of pure thinking is only the ‘I or he or it’ that thinks, but Heidegger insists that this leaves out the question of the mode of being of the subject, and he is certainly right. The notion of a transcendental-logical’ subject is merely a way to avoid the question” (p. 168).

This is subtle and tricky. Leaving out the question of the mode of being of “the subject” is hardly as terrible as Heidegger makes it out to be. Meanwhile with this talk of the mode of being, he distracts attention from what seems to be a rather conventional modern notion that what we are asking about when we consider human “being” is after all most appropriately addressed as a unitary “subject”. I see human (and nonhuman) being as infinitely richer, more multiplex, and more refined than that. This is rooted in the major Hegelian ethical point that we find ourselves in the other, and that human maturity and true spirituality begin from learning to be at home in otherness. Moreover, I think the distinction between empirical and transcendental subjectivity is not at all a mistake but the beginning of wisdom — a recognition that subjectivity is multi-dimensional, and not reducible to one thing.

“Thinking thinking thinking is the enacting of thinking, and the reflective self-consciousness at the end of the Logic, the Concept of the concept, of intelligibility itself, is a form of self-consciousness about the intelligibility of any being, not something like ‘Being as intelligibility itself’…. It does not and cannot include what Heidegger seems to be after: ‘what it means for Being to be thinking’s self-determination of thinking'” (p. 169).

Very true.

“This is not at all to deny that there is something also quite limited and often tendentious about Heidegger’s assessment of Hegel. There are other passages where he does not charge that the question of the mode of being of the thinker has been left unthought by Hegel, but that Hegel did ‘think’ it, and as a Cartesian, that the subject is understood as nothing more than an individual center of consciousness…. While it is true that Hegel does in the Encyclopedia (albeit in the special context of Philosophy of Nature…) say such things as that spirit is ‘the eternal’ and that the eternal is ‘absolute presence’, it is clear from a more charitable reading that Hegel doesn’t mean present-at-hand, or standing presence, as Heidegger claims…. [Heidegger’s claim] assumes that the dialectical self-negation of concepts and eventual sublation results in some sort of abidingness or stability, and, as so much Hegel scholarship after the war has demonstrated, that is the last thing Hegel wants to say” (pp. 169-170).

“This all also raises the question of whether Heidegger is right to draw the rather apocalyptic consequences he does from this ‘forgetting’ or not asking this question; in a word (his word) ‘technology'” (p. 170).

“Heidegger does not here discuss any of the modal questions involved in philosophical conceptuality…. We want necessary conditions. We want: without these elements in place, this availability would not be possible…. In Kant, necessity is tied to necessary conditions of experience. That means, necessary for a unity of consciousness, the Transcendental Unity of Apperception to be possible. In Hegel, necessity is internal to the development of the Concept…. Whether this is defensible or not, we can at least see the basis of necessity in this internal self-negation and developmental necessity. And in Heidegger? Without what would there be no availability, no manifestness, no clearing?” (p. 171).

“But Heidegger and many Hegel scholars pay no attention to the strange limitation Hegel suggests, that Hegel calls these essentialities ‘shadows'” (p. 178). This constitutes “a concession to finitude that Heidegger does not see” (p. 179).

This is extremely important. Hegel may rhetorically rhapsodize about the infinity of reflection, but really he is not at all hostile to the concerns of advocates of the finitude of human powers. Pippin’s Hegel’s Practical Philosophy develops this in great detail.

“Hegel’s speculative identity claim… is wrongly characterized by the traditional notion of individual determinacy. The relation of dependence goes the other way too. Such determinacy must be rethought in the light of the theory of interanimated pure concepts. (This is roughly the same logical point we saw in the implications of the inseparability of thought and intuition in our discussion of Kant.)…. Hegel has many of the same objections to the understanding — ‘forgetting’ its provisional and merely useful status — as Heidegger does” (p. 180).

Pippin is absolutely right here.

“The metaphors can threaten to pile on each other clumsily here, but it is essential to see that by ‘shadows’, Hegel means to point to the insufficiency of the Logic — even as a metaphysics — if considered as a stand-alone part…. It is an abstraction, a necessary one, but its isolation from the system it animates, while necessary, can produce only shadows of the Absolute. We must see it ‘alive’ in the development of the sciences of nature and in the historical development of human Geist before it can be fully understood. It is the same with Aristotle, Hegel’s guide in so much. ‘What really is’ is the being-at-work (energeia) of the individuated species form in a particular, a tode ti. The universal species form is indispensible in knowing, but isolated it is a ‘shadow’ in the same sense” (ibid).

Well said.

“Since Hegel’s Philosophy of Nature clearly incorporates unanticipatable historical developments in the natural sciences, and since the Philosophy of Spirit refers to many distinctly modern elements of civil society and the state, then the reciprocal relation between the Logic and the Encyclopedia cannot be ‘closed’. Further developments in either normative domain must affect what could count as the logical moment they depend on. To be sure, this point does not mean that logical or conceptual reflections are ‘driven’ by empirical discovery and historical novelty. Every such change must be understood as an amplification and further substantialization of what in the Logic are mere shadows. Any such amplification and deepening must always occur ‘shadowed’ by the necessities of the Logic’s requirements for intelligibility. This does, however, mean … that the Hegelian a priori … must be a historical a priori … at a moment of development in the investigations of nature and the developments of civil society” (pp. 180-181).

“Does any of this mean that Heidegger’s critique misses the mark? Not decisively, I would suggest…. There is no way into or out of Hegel without the Absolute, the Concept, the Science of Logic. And Heidegger is right. There is no Absolute. There cannot be an Absolute” (p. 181).

That is disappointing. The Absolute that cannot exist, I want to suggest, is not Hegel’s. I’m walking the edge here, but in spite of numerous passages that do have inflationary rhetoric, the Hegelian absolute is actually a relatively simple and modest notion.

“The Logic, we recall, begins with the ‘resolve’ to think being, and it is fair enough for Heidegger to interpret this as a question about the meaning of Being. And, since all thinking is inherently apperceptive, upon reflection the result of attempting to think Being itself is shown to be an unsustainable thought because indeterminate and so unthinkable, not a thought” (p. 186).

“In other words, Hegel draws exactly the wrong lesson from the unthinkability of Being as such, a generality that is so general that it dissolves into something unavailable” (p. 187).

I would argue with that.

“However, [Heidegger’s] main question and the critique it is based on are only weighty, fundamental in his sense, if it does not remain a kind of black box of chaotic indeterminate, unsayable revelations across historical time. What is this new sort of thinking?… Without some answer to this question, it is Heidegger who looks like our shopper searching in vain for ‘fruit'” (p. 188).

Pippin recounts Heidegger’s discussion of an anecdote by Hegel of an apparently very Socratic shopper who went to the store to buy Fruit with a capital “F”, but found only apples, bananas, pears, and the like, and considered the venture a failure. Heidegger tries to turn the tables on Hegel in this example and claim that Hegel himself is really like that shopper, but Pippin is saying this is not a legitimate reading.

Pippin quotes Heidegger, “One must think in both a literal and a substantive sense, namely, that the unique unleashing of the demand to render reasons threatens everything of humans’ being-at-home and robs them of the roots of their subsistence” (p. 189).

This is a horrible mischaracterization of what is wrong with the world. People looking for reasons are hardly the cause of the apocalypse. Reasons are ethical before they are epistemological. We need them and like them. They are our friends, and help us make things better. To claim that reason is inevitably alienating is simplistic, utterly wrong, and a terrible piece of bad faith.

“The gods have fled, though, and some new ‘thinking’ (thinking that is not what he had called ‘logic’) is necessary if Heidegger is posing a real alternative to the twenty-five hundred years of metaphysics begun by Greek ‘aesthetic objectivism'” (p. 191).

OK, now we’re calling it in. Aesthetic objectivism, really? I guess that for Heidegger the birth of ethical reason with Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle was a non-event.

“Hegel does not mean that Spirit will no longer exist in time but that its self-comprehending over time assumes a teleological structure, a goal that, when reached, transcends its necessary appearance in time, or its finitude…. As we have been seeing, Heidegger denies that Dasein has any such structure or goal…. (The temporal form of the fundamental meaning of Spirit’s being is for Hegel provisional; not final.) Such a denial is unwarranted and dogmatic, according to Heidegger” (p. 192).

“It is this notion of a genuinely progressive inner self-correction that Heidegger challenges as merely staged” (p. 195).

The thing in Hegel that Brandom seems to love most — a confident, proto-Deweyan vision of progress — is false, according to Heidegger. This is a delicate point. Hegel has been called both an optimist and a pessimist in different settings. Once again, I think that a charitable interpretation is a modest interpretation. Even Brandom also refers to the “path of despair”, a phrase of Hegel’s that is farther than I would go in the other direction.

“A key issue in what bothers Heidegger about this procedure and indeed the key to understanding what Hegel is trying to do is the concept of negation involved in Spirit’s periodic self-negation, that ‘self-consummating skepticism’. This sort of phenomenological negation is said by Hegel not to be indeterminate” (p. 196).

“The journey is governed by the assumption that any moment must be a ‘self-knowing knowing’, that any being must be discursively articulable…. But there is a prior question about the meaning for Spirit of what it experiences, a meaning Hegel simply assumes” (p. 197).

“Our natural consciousness would stubbornly insist it knows what it sees, even if it cannot say so precisely. Hegel’s contrary claim is that the inherent and unavoidable commitment to full logical intelligibility (‘science’) is both partially and ever more self-consciously revealed as an inherent, unacknowledged commitment in any claim to know or (ultimately in the journey) to act justifiably and that we are led to a full acknowledged commitment in full self-consciousness about what we had been doing. There is nothing illicit in the presence of the assumption; that is what is being demonstrated. It is simply un-self-conscious and coming to self-consciousness” (p. 198).

“Heidegger has, in other words, confused the fact that an implication may be implicit in a position and coming to see that and why a claim that an implication is implicit in a position is justified. We may know at the end of Hegel’s journey that ‘the Absolute’ was ‘already assumed, already present’, but we are not entitled to any such position at the outset” (p. 199).

“A second criticism is also a familiar and predictable one. Who is the ‘subject’ of this putative experience?” (ibid). “[Heidegger’s] clear assumption is that any such subject will still be ‘thing’ or ‘substance’ like and will not diverge from the basic presuppositions Heidegger notices in the consciousness section” (p. 200). “Likewise with the emergence of the logical prejudice in his explanation of the transition from consciousness to self-consciousness, that ‘being is determined logically, such that logic manifests as egology'” (p. 201).

“It would take an interpretation of all the first four chapters of the [Phenomenology] to challenge Heidegger’s reading, but we should at least note in passing that, at least as Hegel understands his book, it cannot be considered an ‘egology’ like Fichte’s, say…. Rather, individual egos should not be considered as, ex ante, atomistic, self-sufficient egological origins of such commitments to a collective subject, as if Geist comes into being only as a result of constituting acts by ex-ante spiritless (geistlose) atomic individuals. They are the individuals they are only as already ‘formed’ (gebildet) within and as inheriting such collectivities” (ibid).

“The difference between Hegel’s ‘shapes of spirit’ and Heidegger’s ‘world’ comes down to whether such shapes of spirit can become self-conscious to themselves in ways reflected in art, religion, and philosophy, and in coming to do so, reflect on and move on from deficiencies in such self-understanding…. This co-constituting mutual dependence is why Hegel can frequently say something that would otherwise be mysterious, that spirit, this social subjectivity, is ‘a product of itself’. (Geist is this co-constituting relation — the product of individuals who are themselves the products of their participation in Geist. Geist has no substantial existence apart from this mutual reflection.)” (ibid).

Next in this series: Poetic Thinking