A Triangular Relation?

In the previous post, we saw a sharply binary model of signifier and signified being applied by Roger Bacon and Duns Scotus. At least in Bacon’s case, this goes hand in hand with a new kind of “direct” realism that aims to deal directly with things in the world, and repudiates the subtleties of the indirect account of knowledge and meaning by way of concepts and the passions of the soul that was broadly shared by Aristotle, Augustine, and Boethius. But Scotus complicates the picture considerably by also promoting a triangular model that includes concepts understood in a certain way. Scotus also argues for a non-psychological approach to concepts.

“Does the sign signify the thing itself or the concept in the soul? — We have said that for Scotus, the great semantic controversy of the Middle Age, more fundamental than any other, is constituted by the following question: Is the vocal sound the sign of the thing or of the concept?” (Boulnois, L’Être et représentation, p. 35, my translation throughout).

“The line of the English Franciscans seems to have developed this theory long before him: for Roger Bacon, linguistic signs have been arbitrarily instituted by humans to directly indicate the things themselves. Words are not related to things by means of a conceptual interpretation. A new, radically non-Platonic way of thinking language arises: instrument of communication, it ‘takes the place of’ (supponit pro) the thing, and not the idea of the speaker. What is more, it exercises a representative function uniquely defined by its capacity to refer to present and existent things. For Roger Bacon, the name signifies solely the thing on which it has been imposed. It can only refer to things (even if it can signify connotata, by inference). But at the same time, there is a relation between the vox [vocal sound] and the species in the soul. The vocal sound is its proper presentification, but it makes the representation of a thing arise in the mind. It makes the thing be conceived, or makes it arise in the soul. Thus the sign in a single gesture refers to the thing and recalls a representation. The vox is not a concept, but a thing that signifies another; it signifies a singular thing in the present, without involving essence, and no longer passes by way of the intellectus to arrive at the res [thing]. There is a sort of collaterality of the sermo [spoken word] and the intellectus that both refer to the res” (ibid).

Scholastic accounts of language typically focus on proprieties of naming. Implicit in this approach is an account of meaning that begins from individual terms. Broadly speaking, this approach has an affinity to modern bottom-up theories of semantics, which aim to put together a picture of the world in a compositional way from individual terms taken as given.

In the early 20th century, Saussurean linguistics developed an alternative approach that treats the signifier in a relational way, such that each signifier is understood in the first instance as identified by its difference from other signifiers, independent of its nominal reference to a signified. This led to an incipient “deconstructive” analysis of individual terms in the broad current of 20th-century European (especially French) “structuralism”, which then came to be explicitly thematized in developments that Anglophone writers came to refer to as “post” structuralist.

From a completely different starting point in a pragmatist reading of analytic philosophy and German Idealism, in the late 20th century Brandom developed an “inferentialist” semantics that begins from whole sentences as the minimal unit of assertion, and focuses on explaining the “material” inferential properties of propositions in terms of normative assessments of proprieties of concrete assertion, rather than in terms of universal formal rules. Brandom understands the meaning of concepts inferentially, in terms of their use or functional role in assertions, and emphasizes the non-psychological character of meaning understood in this way. From this point of view, concepts are not to be identified with individual terms, and instead have a holistic character, such that each concept involves other concepts.

In sharp contrast to both of these as well as to Aristotle and Augustine, Scotus develops his triangular model of signification in a way that aims to be consistent with a primacy of individual things, and with a direct association of words to things.

“[I]n his first commentary on [Aristotle’s] treatise On Interpretation, [Scotus] maintains, like Boethius and Thomas Aquinas, that the vocal sound signifies the concept, which resembles the thing or ‘represents’ it. The vox immediately signifies the species, the representation of the thing in the intellect, but it mediately signifies that which it represents, which is to say the thing itself. But in the second commentary, closer to Bacon, he holds that the vocal sound directly signifies not the conceptions of the intellect, but the thing itself. When Aristotle and Boethius say that the name directly signifies the passions of the soul, it is necessary to understand by this not the concept, or the resemblance in the soul, but the thing that is conceived. This second version is evidently a radical revision of Scotist semantics. It is also the definitive position of the theological works” (pp. 36-37).

“Following Bacon and [Peter] Olivi, Duns Scotus breaks with the Boethian interpretation of signification, but he does so with a nuance, integrating the Aristotelian semantics; the verbal sign (verbum) is directly the sign of both the thing and the concept, but it is in the first instance the sign of the thing, and then the sign of the concept. The sign comes from a direct causality of the thing and signifies it directly. Nonetheless there is a logical anteriority of the concept, for it is on it that the linguistic sign depends. Scotus formulates his response in the vocabulary of his own theory of causality. The concept, the written sign, and the phoneme are all three ordered effects of the same cause: the thing itself…. Writing, the vocal sound, and the concept are signs, situated on the same plane, none of them exercising any causality over the others, and they signify the same signified” (p. 37).

If the sign is in the first instance the sign of the thing, it is difficult to see how the concept can be logically anterior to the relation of sign to thing. But Scotus apparently wants to assert both, and also that the concept is a kind of sign, and that the sign is a kind of thing.

“[T]he word, the concept, and the thing no longer form a series, but a triangle…. The play of natural causes, the weight of institution, and the semantic relation are articulated with one another, but remain autonomous…. The concept is the first, natural effect of the thing itself. It is it that is first of all a sign of the thing, and not the vocal sound or writing. It constitutes the object of logic, an anterior object, more fundamental than vocal sounds, and supposed by them…. If there is a science of things, metaphysics, and a science of words, grammar, logic occupies an intermediary and central place, as the science of concepts” (p. 39).

Scotus wants to give metaphysics a new status as a rational science, in a strong sense that is independent of Aristotle. Meanwhile, he also explicitly rejects Aristotle’s thesis that logic is a tool for clearly expressing meaning and not a science with its own subject matter, which Brandom has recently revived under the name of logical expressivism.

“Noetics studies the concept insofar as it constitutes an aspect of the mind (mens), where it is found as an accident in a subject. Logic, on the contrary, considers the concept as sign, insofar as it refers to a signified. This is the ambiguity of representation: we consider in it either the thing that represents, or the thing that it represents, the being of the representing or the being represented…. Logic is distinct from psychology…. The aim of thought is not reducible to its psychic reality” (pp. 39-40).

Boulnois does not point it out here, but Scotus’s assumption that the concept is in the mind “as an accident in a subject” is directly opposed to Augustine’s strong contention that the mind should not be seen as a subject in which knowledge and love inhere as accidents.

“In this triangle of word, concept, and thing, the concept is described as a sign, and reciprocally the cognitive act is itself a semiosis. Duns Scotus breaks with Augustine and Boethius, who reserve signification to vocal sounds and writing. He participates in what C. Panaccio has called a general movement of ‘semantization’ of thought. Logic, conceived as a rational science, a theory of signs or of ‘signifying reasoning’ (ratio significandi), is no longer a subalternate discipline, concerned with the expression of thought. Because thought is signifying, logic becomes a theory of thought itself. Nevertheless, it does not fall to it to resolve the problem of the place of thought. Concepts are natural signs, not conventional ones: they are combined in propositions according to logical rules, the structure of which subtends all possible oral or written propositions, even if they are not proffered. They constitute the elements of a universal mental language, of a general grammar and of a pure theory of communication. This language is for Duns Scotus a subjacent condition of all oral enunciations and effective writings” (pp. 40-41).

Thus apparently the treatment of concepts as a kind of sign is closely related to the non-Aristotelian idea that logic is a science with its own subject matter.

“But above all, this ideal possibility is real: it is accomplished par excellence in the domain of angelic communication. Angels communicate with the aid of intelligible signs, which is to say pure concepts, without phonetic or graphical support. Each angel directly causes a concept in another, by an immediate communication. It is on this occasion that Duns Scotus formulates a formal theory of pure thought” (p. 41).

If concepts are natural signs and signs are real things, then concepts are real things.

“The sign establishes a double relation. On the one hand, it is the image of the thing that caused it; on the other hand, what is more important, it signifies it: the concept is a real object, which has a natural existence, belonging to a causal chain; but it bears a resemblance to the object it represents. This resemblance is produced by the concurrent double causality of the thing itself and the intelligible species conserved in memory. — Is it necessary to say that the concept preserves the transparency of representation, while the conventional sign loses it? For a concept, does representare signify a ‘resemblance to’, or simply: ‘taking the place of the presence’ of an object, which was already the sense of the word in Peter of Spain? Does the representivity of the concept for the intellect come from its resemblance to real objects, or from its dependence on a cause?” (pp. 41-42).

Given Scotus’s insistence that the sign refers directly to the thing, it is surprising to read that “We cannot pass directly from the representation to the thing” (p. 43). But our act is different from the reference of the sign, so technically there is no contradiction.

“But even in maintaining that the relation of cause to effect is first, Scotus does not go to the point of abandoning resemblance: both are real aspects of intellection. Even if it supposes the causality of the object, semiosis is a complex process that is not reduced to it, since it supposes a play of resemblances. The sign is recognized more than it is produced” (ibid).

In a way, the play of resemblances resembles the mutual dependence of signifiers in the Saussurean tradition.

That the sign is recognized more than it is produced is a nice injection of good sense that stands in obvious tension with the foundation myth of signs as imposed and instituted “at will”. But the user of a sign is usually not its institutor.

“The phoneme homo no longer signifies the concept of the human: like the concept, it signifies the real human, even if it depends on the concept for this. The three forms of signification (formal sign, oral sign, written sign) are parallel, even if their terms are ordered according to a serial dependency. The signification of the concept is a natural relation between the intellect and things. The signified of phonemes and graphemes remains the thing itself, but it depends on a conventional relation.”

“In this Scotus directly opposes Aristotle, for whom the vox is a sound emitted by the mouth of a human being, accompanied by an imaginative representation. Words are not the tools of knowledge, but of communication” (p. 43).

I think that knowledge in Plato and Aristotle (and Hegel and Gadamer and Habermas and Brandom, among others) implicitly has a dialogical (and therefore in part communicative) character. Gadamer has highlighted the dialogical element in Plato and Aristotle. The “communicative reason” elaborated by Habermas involves a dialogical view of knowledge. It is only “monological” conceptions of knowledge that do not involve an element of communication.

“In itself, the written or oral sign is only an ensemble of sounds or letters, which causes nothing more than the knowledge of itself. The imposition of the sign describes the passage from concept to sign, and reciprocally interpretation allows a reascent from the sign to the intelligible concept that subtends it. The process of interpretation follows a trajectory inverse to that of imposition. It is thus a contingent process of association” (p. 45).

“In the moment of imposition, the imposer associates sense and intellect, in relating a perceived name to a conceived thing. In the moment of interpretation, the hearer recalls the relation between the name perceived in the present, and the past thing that she knew more or less distinctly” (p. 46).

I don’t think of interpretation as happening in a moment. It is not only dialogical, but also involves mediation, concepts, and an extension in time. In the same way, only in a very improper sense is jumping to a conclusion a kind of judgment. But Boulnois is summarizing Scotus here, not necessarily asserting this in his own name.

Signification cannot take the place of knowledge. There is no transparency between the sign and thought” (ibid).

Knowledge implies a knower in a way that formal signification does not. But the dialogical expression and elaboration of knowledge is closely interwoven with the dialogical elaboration of signification and meaning.

“But what is it that is signified? The thing, yes, but in what sense of the word ‘thing’? According to [Scotus’s] Questions on On Interpretation, not the thing in its singularity and its existence, but the thing as quiddity [what Aristotle calls the “what it is”], indifferent to singularity and universality, to existence and nonexistence: the thing as it is seen by the mediation of a concept…. According to this semantic, signification is no longer an intelligible correlation between the signifying and the concept” (pp. 46-47).

Indeed, “thing” is said in many ways. Thing as quiddity and thing as object are almost mutually exclusive. I use “object” in a deflationary way as a relative term, as in “the object of”, not as naming something that is assumed to be a free-standing thing in its own right. I don’t actively use the term “quiddity”, but I think of it as a more static and self-contained projection of essence, which in its more proper usages is not something self-contained. Brandom says that a concept is not the kind of thing we could have just one of. I think of essence in a similar way. All articulation is inter-articulation, involving more than one term.

“From now on, signification can be thought independent of the scope of the concept.”

“Linguistic signs signify directly, without passing through the concept. They can signify a thing more precisely than intellect can conceive it. The circulus vini, a sign that indicates the presence of new wine in the inn, causes nothing new in the intellect of the one who perceives it. It is an arbitrary sign, constituted by a convention…. Convention is limited to establishing a relation of reason between two things, two physical realities: the sonorous matter of the phoneme (the vox) and the reality signified (the res). To be valid, this relation-convention supposes the knowledge of the two terms…. A weak and confused knowledge of the thing suffices for us to be able to use a sign, and to signify in a suitable way. We can signify in a way that is more precise than we conceive” (pp. 47-48).

Signification is a “formal” concept, in what seems to be Scotus’s distinctive sense of the term “formal”, which is neither Platonic nor Kantian, and also not to be understood in terms of modern logical or mathematical formalism. The formal status of signification is what allows it to be “more precise” than the knowledge we actually have. But as Hegel reminds us, formal precision (in any of these senses) is not always a virtue when applied to real things.

“Duns Scotus is inspired by the analyses of Olivi to establish a relation between semantic representation and juridical representation, the sign and the law.”

Peter Olivi was another important 13th-century Franciscan, and another strong voluntarist.

“A sign can be speculative or practical. The speculative sign leads to knowledge; it allows a concept of the signified to be formed in the intellect, but its characteristic tells us nothing of its real existence; for example, homo is the sign of a concept, and allows the knowledge of an essence, of a nature in general, whether or not a human exists. The practical sign implies the existence of its signified; it is the sign of an existence, and not of a simple possibility…. Since the practical sign signifies the advent of an effect, and this effect depends on the ordered power (that is to say on the free voluntary disposition) of someone who can cause it, only the author of this effect can give this practical sign certain being. It suffices that the institutor is disposed to regularly produce the signified of the sign she institutes…. Contracts, pacts, and promises are examples. The practical sign pertains to a juridical order instituted by humans. It depends on a law…. The sign belongs to the domain of the will of a free agent, who is self-determining in limiting herself to the order she institutes. This one, in proportion to her political power, can engage in rendering real what she has disposed in the order of signs” (pp. 48-49).

To me it seems preposterous to say that the sign belongs to the domain of the will of a free agent. A sign belongs to a field of reciprocal determination that is independent of anyone’s will. (See also Hegel on Willing.)

“The practical sign is an ordination of power. In this sense, it belongs to the theology of absolute power and ordained power. In Duns Scotus, these two concepts apply to every free agent: absolute power includes all that a free being can effectively do, de facto. Ordained power includes all she can do in conformity to a law, de jure. The institutor is an absolutely free agent, who self-determines freely in choosing this or that order” (p. 49).

An earlier book by Boulnois develops the history of the theology of absolute power and ordained power in detail. A later book treats the history of theological voluntarism in the Latin tradition.

For Scotus “It is will that founds the truth of the practical sign, and not the inverse” (p. 52).

But “there are signs of which we are not the institutors, and that we receive as fully established by an alien will…. We are under the law of signs, and they do not always depend on us” (ibid).

Anaphora and Reason Relations

Applying Brandom’s 2025 concept of reason relations to his 1980 expansion of anaphora, it seems that the new reason relations codify and make explicit the same material inferences that are expressible in terms of anaphoric back-reference between sentences in a non-logical base language. Reason relations are constructed formal objects that are designed to codify an explicit formal representation of the material inferences expressed by anaphora. They provide a conservative extension and explanation of the material inferences expressible in the base language.

Anaphora and Prosentences

This will conclude an examination of Brandom’s early programmatic work “Assertion and Conceptual Roles”. At one point he pithily comments that he is developing an account of saying that does not depend on a prior account of naming. Once again, at a broad level I think that is also something that Aristotle does. Saying viewed this way is more oriented toward valuation than toward representation.

I would suggest that naming is a kind of shorthand for a description or classification that is sufficient to pick something out from other things in the applicable context. What a name cannot be counted on to do is to unambiguously specify an essence or an adequate definition. The very first topic raised in Aristotle’s Categories — which was traditionally placed first in the order of instruction — is “things said in many ways”.

The young Brandom says, “Our strategy now is to use the conditionals we have constructed to develop precise representations of the conceptual contents sentences acquire in virtue of playing a material inferential role in some justificatory system. The most sophisticated use of the notion of a conceptual role has been made by Sellars, who in Science and Metaphysics and elsewhere develops a theory of meaning couched in terms of dot-quoted expressions, where such dot-quotation of an expression results in a term referring to the conceptual (inferential-justificatory) role of that expression” (p. 34).

Every concept worth its salt carries its justification with it. We don’t properly understand an expression if we are unable to justify its use. As Aristotle says, the mark of knowing something is the ability to explain why it is the case. I would maintain that there isn’t any knowing “never you mind how”. The latter is rather the mark of what Plato calls mere opinion.

“According to the present view, it is the defining task of a logic or logical construction that it make possible the explicit codification in a conceptual role of what is implicit in the inferential and justificatory employment of an expression…. [C]onceptual roles in Frege’s and Sellars’ sense can be expressed, using the conditionals of our formal logic not only as the means of expression of roles, but also as providing the model according to which we understand such roles.”

On this view, ordinary if-then reasoning turns out to be a kind of key to understanding meaning. But considerable care is required in working out the details. The conditional that codifies material inferences has different detailed behavior than the common one based on a truth table, and that is a good thing, because the truth table one has significant defects.

“The key to this line of thought is the observation that the only sentences whose roles we understand explicitly are the conditionals. We understand them because we constructed them, stipulating their introduction conditions, and deriving the consequences of such introduction (the validity of detachment)” (ibid).

If-then conditionals allow us to explicitly express the reasons and dependencies that implicitly guide judgment and thought.

“We propose to generalize this clear case, and conceive the mastery of the use of an expression which one must exhibit in order to properly be said to understand it (‘grasp’ its conceptual role) as consisting of two parts, knowing when one is entitled to apply the expression, and knowing what the appropriate consequences of such application are (what justifies using the expression, and what inferences one licenses by so doing). Applying the expression is thus assimilated to performing an inference from the circumstances of appropriate application of the expression to the consequences of its application” (ibid).

But “applying the expression” is just what assertion is. By these lights, every asserting is an inferring.

“On this model, suggested by the later Carnap’s use of partial reduction forms, the conceptual role of any expression is the pair of its circumstances of appropriate application and the consequences of such application, that is, of its (individually) sufficient conditions and of its (jointly) necessary conditions. The application of that expression is to be thought of as an inference from the former to the latter. Assertion thus becomes a limiting case of inference” (p. 35).

It is inference that grounds assertion, not the reverse. Only through inference can anyone understand the significance of an assertion.

“More must be said, however, about the ramifications of taking conditionals to be the models for the conceptual roles of basic sentences, insasmuch as our strategy has been to construct a conditional as stating explicitly (as a license) what is implicit in an inference from its antecedent to its consequent, and then to assimilate the content of basic statements to the model of these constructed conditional statements” (ibid).

“In general, one might think that it was incoherent or circular to define the contents of the categorical sentences of an idiom in terms of the contents of hypothetical sentences of that idiom…. Our construction avoids this worry, since we define conditionals in terms of the contents of basic sentences only in the sense in which those contents are implicit in the informal inferential practices which are the use of the basic sentences.” (pp. 35-36).

Kant already questioned the primitiveness of categorical judgments. My take is that they constitute a form of shorthand for what are really reasonings or interpretations.

“Nor is there anything peculiar about taking a sub-class of sentences as the paradigms to which all others are assimilated in a theory of meaning. Frege, for instance, treats all sentences as implicit identity statements (involving names of the True or the False)…. Thus Frege constructs a theory of meaning based on terms explicated with the logical device of identity, where we base our account on sentences explicated by means of the logical device of conditionals” (p. 36).

Brandom has a complex relation to Frege, championing some of his early work and questioning some of his later work.

“We attempt to give a direct account of saying and what is said which does not appeal to naming and what is named” (ibid).

“This is the essential difference between conceptual role semantics inspired by the sort of concerns articulated by the later Wittgenstein, and referential semantics inspired by Frege” (ibid).

“As Dummett points out, the later Frege broke from previous logicians in treating logic not as the study of inference, but of a special kind of truth…. This view seems to have been motivated by his presentation of logic as an axiomatic system, where some truths are stipulated and other truths are derived from them by a minimum of purely formal inferential principles. The philosophical critique in terms of linguistic practice of the distinction between meaning-constitutive stipulated truths and empirically discovered truths, together with Gentzen’s achievement of parity of formal power between proof-theoretic methods of studying consequence relations and the truth-oriented methods epitomized by matrix interpretations … require us to reassess the relations of explanatory priority between the notions of inference and truth” (p. 36).

Brandom makes a good case for seeing the early Frege as a proto-inferentialist concerned with the formalization of material inference. The later Frege propounded an original and rather strange notion of truth and truth-values as foundational. He held that truth is a (unique) object referred to by all true statements, rather than a property.

“One of Frege’s achievements is his formulation of the principle of semantic explanation, according to which the appropriateness of a form of inference is to be accounted for by showing that it never leads from true premises to conclusions which are not true. The usual way in which to exploit this principle is to begin with an account of truth (typically in representational or referential terms) and partition a space of abstractly possible inferences and forms of inference into those which are appropriate and those which are not appropriate according to the semantic principle, as Frege does in the Begriffschrift. Our approach in effect reverses this order of explanation, beginning analysis with a set of appropriate inferences and explaining semantic interpretants, including truth-values, in terms of them” (pp. 36-37).

The idea of this “principle of explanation” is that sound reasoning from true premises cannot yield a false conclusion. This is not a fact, but a definition that also has characteristics of a Kantian imperative. It is up to us to make it true.

He considers possible objections to the idea of treating hypothetical judgments as more originary than categorical judgments. This should not be taken to apply at the level of truths. In a similar vein, he also says that what our words mean does not determine what we believe.

“Just as it is implausible to take what is possible as determining what is actual, so it is implausible to take the totality of conditional truths as determining the totality of unconditional truths. Indeed, the possession by a formal system of this semantic property would be a strong reason to take its conditional as not a reasonable rendering of the English hypothetical construction ‘if … then’. Embarrassingly enough, the standard truth-functional (mis-named ‘material’) conditional which Frege employs has just this property, namely that if the truth-values of all of the conditionals of the language are settled, then the truth-values of all the sentences of the language are settled. This is proven in Appendix II” (p. 37).

This surprising proof really turns things around. I suppose this result is related to the concerns about “logical omniscience” in classical logic. It is not reasonable to suppose that if a human knows A, then she necessarily knows all the consequences of A. But this is independent of the question of whether we really know anything unconditionally (I tend to think not). There is a also question whether we are properly said to “know” abstract tautologies like A = A, without necessarily knowing what A is (I am inclined to use some other word than knowledge for these cases).

“Our genuine conditional, introduced as codifying a set of non-formal inferences, will not have this undesirable property…. We avoid that result by taking the principle that appropriate inference should never lead from true premises to conclusions which are not true as a necessary, but not sufficient condition for appropriateness of inference. The truth-functional conditional results from taking the principle to provide sufficient conditions as well” (ibid).

Again, this falls within the tradition of alternative, “better” definitions of implication.

“Taking Frege’s semantic explanatory principle as a necessary condition on an account of inferential relations settles that the primary semantic notion will be whatever it is that is preserved by appropriate inferences. Frege calls this ‘truth’, but abstractly there are other properties which could also play this role (e.g., justificatory responsibility) and there are good reasons to expect an adequate semantic theory to account as well for the preservation of ‘relevance’ of some kind by appropriate inferences. This primary semantic notion, however, pertains only to the use of a sentence as a free-standing assertive utterance. A full notion of sentential content must specify as well the role a sentence has as a component in other, compound, sentences, paradigmatically in conditionals. It cannot be determined a priori that these two roles coincide. If with Frege we take the first semantic property to be a truth-value either possessed or not by any sentence, then the assumption that the second or componential notion coincides with the first results in classic two-valued truth-functional logic” (p. 38).

It is noteworthy that even the later Frege’s concern in this context was with “whatever it is that is preserved by appropriate inferences”.

He has previously used the term “designatedness”, which names that “whatever it is that inference preserves” that plays a role in multi-valued logics broadly analogous to that played by truth in two-valued logics.

“[M]any-valued semantics requires the assignment to each sentence of two different sorts of semantic interpretant: a designatedness value indicating possession or lack by a sentence used as a free-standing utterance of the property which appropriate inference must preserve, and a multivalue codifying the contribution the sentence makes to the designatedness value of compound sentences containing it, according to the principle … Two sentences have the same multivalue if and only if they are intersubstitutable salva designatedness value in every sort of compound sentence” (p. 39).

He relates the current development to technical work on the algebraic interpretation of logics.

“A matrix is characteristic for a logic if it verifies just the theorems of that logic. Lindenbaum showed that every logic has a characteristic matrix, namely the one gotten by taking the set of multivalues to be classes of inferentially equivalent sentences, and the designated multivalues to be the theorems of the logic in question” (ibid).

“We are now in a position to notice that a repertoire, together with the partial ordering induced on the sentences of a repertoire by the conditionals contained in its formally expanded consequence extension constitute such a Lindenbaum matrix” (ibid).

The conditional as Brandom has defined it provably meets Frege’s criterion of inference preservation. Brandom has extended algebraic logic to include patterns of material inference.

“Theorem 1 above shows that modus ponens preserves designatedness, that is membership in the extended repertoire. Or, to put the same point another way, that result shows that our constructed conditional satisfies Frege’s semantic explanatory principle when membership in a repertoire is taken as the prime semantic notion, and social practice determines an antecedent class of appropriate material inferences. The formally extended repertoire thus is, in a precise sense, the characteristic semantic matrix not for a logic or a set of formal inferences, but for a set of material inferences” (p. 40).

“There are three specific points which should be made concerning this interpretation. First, what is captured by semantic matrices is taken to be a matter of formal inferences first, and logical truths verified by the matrix only second, although this is not how such matrices are usually thought of. Second, we generalize the notion of a characteristic matrix for a set of formal inferences to apply to material inferences as well. Finally, notice that in addition to the structure of material inference codified in each repertoire-matrix we can in fact identify a logic with regard to the whole idiom, insofar as some complicated conditionals will appear in all repertoires. We have not constructed a characteristic matrix for this logic by ordering the sentences of the language according to repertoire-designated conditionals. In some ways it is accordingly more appropriate to say that each repertoire expresses a single matrix valuation characteristic of a set of material inferences, and that the whole idiom comprising all admissible repertoires is characteristic of the formal or logical inferences involving the conditional we used to make explicit the materially appropriate inferences” (ibid).

“In this way, then, we can exploit Frege’s semantic explanatory principle and the truth-oriented matrix semantics it inspired as theoretical auxiliaries useful in the formal analysis of a socially specified set of appropriate inferences” (ibid).

“Seeing logic in the way I have been recommending, however, as a formal tool for the explicit expression of inferential roles, obviates the need for appealing to prior notions of truth or truth-value. We have interpreted Frege’s truth-values as they figure in his semantic principle first as the designatedness values of multivalued logic, and then moving from concern with the codification of formal inference to concern with the codification of material inference, interpreted as expressing membership in a repertoire. Recalling the social practical origins of these repertoires, it would be appropriate to call the two circumstances of membership and non-membership in a particular repertoire assertibility values with respect to that repertoire. We have given a much more precise sense to this term than semantic theorists who advocate the primacy of assertibility over truth typically manage to do, however” (pp. 40-41).

“We represent the matrix valuation on the language induced by a formally expanded repertoire by associating with each sentence its repertoire-relative conceptual role, consisting of inferential circumstances and consequences of assertion. It is clear that this is an adequate representation in that this set of roles, together with the repertoire generating them, determines the partial order of the language by the conditional which is the Lindenbaum matrix. These conceptual roles are thus taken as multivalues, with repertoire membership identified as designatedness with respect to the semantic principle. The multivalues must, of course, determine compounding behavior according to our motivation…. It is … a criterion of adequacy of this representation that sentences with the same conceptual role, that is, multivalue, should be intersubstitutable in conditionals preserving both designatedness values and multivalues” (p. 41).

So far he has focused on a notion of the conditional that is a primitive “arrow” rather than something defined by a truth table. He briefly considers how to define other connectives that work off of the designatedness that plays a truth-like role in multi-valued logics, but again affirms the special importance of conditionals.

” ‘Truth-functional’ connectives can now be introduced using designatedness values as the extensions of sentences…. We would like to be able to semantically interpret all forms of sentence compounding by means of functions taking conceptual roles, or sets of them, into conceptual roles, as we can do for conditionals…. Our use of the conditional as both the model of and a tool for the expression of conceptual roles embodies the belief that the contribution a sentence makes to the roles of conditional it is a component in suffices to determine its role in other compounds” (p. 42).

He quotes Frege saying that the kernel of the problem of judgment splits into that of truth and that of what he calls “a thought”, which refers to some declarative content. Given Frege’s unitary view of “truth”, this thought-content identified with saying and conceptual roles has to be responsible for all differentiation.

“By a thought, Frege makes clear, is intended what is referred to in English by that-p clauses. We have identified these judged contents as conceptual roles. In what follows, we try to exhibit a representative variety of uses of such that-p clauses in terms of conceptual roles” (p. 43).

Finally we come to prosentences.

“Our starting point is the prosentential theory of truth of Grover, Camp, and Belnap. That account can best be sketched as the product of three different lines of thought: i) the redundancy theory of Ramsey and others, which says that the conceptual content of ‘it is true that-p‘ is always just the same as that of p…. ii) an account of truth in terms of infinite conjunctions and disjunctions…. [T]he best succinct statement of this view is in Putnam’s Meaning and the Moral Sciences…. ‘If we had a meta-language with infinite conjunctions and infinite disjunctions (countable infinite) we wouldn’t need “true”!…. [F]or example, we could say … “He said ‘P1‘ & P1” (ibid).

“iii) Finally, and this is what is distinctive to the view under discussion, it is observed that pronouns serve two sorts of purposes. In their lazy use, … they may simply be replaced by their antecedents (salva conceptual role). In their quantificational use, as in ‘Each positive number is such that if it is even, adding it to 1 yields an odd number’, the semantic role of the pronoun is determined by a set of admissible substituends (in turn determined by the pronomial antecedent)” (p. 44).

“Thus ‘Everything he said is true’ is construed as a quantificational prosentence, which picks up from its anaphoric antecedent a set of admissible substituends (things that he said), and is semantically equivalent to their conjunction” (ibid).

“The authors of the prosentential theory are concerned that ‘is true’ be taken to be a fragment of a prosentence, not a predicate which characterizes sentence-nominalization…. The authors are worried that if the first part of a sentence of the form ‘X is true’ is taken to be a referring sentential nominalization that, first, ‘is true’ will inevitably be taken to be a predicate, and second, the anaphoric prosentential reference of the whole sentence will be passed over in favor of the view that the nominalization does all the referring that gets done, and would vitiate the view” (p. 45).

“In fact this is a situation in which we can have our cake and eat it too. We consider ‘X is true’ as composed of a sentence nominalization X which refers to sentences, and a prosentence-forming operator ‘is true’.” (ibid).

“Our construction of conceptual roles in terms of conditionals of course presents natural criteria of adequacy for translation functions between repertoires contained in a single idiom, or which are members of different idioms” (p. 51).

“We show now how those semantic facts about the idiom can be expressed explicitly as the content of claims made within that idiom. We use the logical vocabulary of conditionals and repertoire attributions we have already constructed to define a further bit of expressive machinery, that-clauses, which will thus have a logical function in making explicit semantic features implicit in the idiom” (p. 53).

“[T]he account of conceptual roles is novel in being entirely non-representational. In the formal idiom we develop, it is not a necessary feature of a saying that-p that the sentence involved represent some state of affairs. Of course sentences used to say things may also be representations, and this fact might be crucial for the understanding of the use of language in empirical inquiry. But our model is broader, and we may hope that it can find application in the explication of other forms of discourse (e.g., literary and political discourse) where the representational paradigm is less apt than it perhaps is for scientific idioms” (p. 55).

“Perhaps the most important feature of our account is the crucial place given to logic, as providing the formal means by which an idiom can come to express explicitly crucial semantic facts which are implicit in the system of justificatory practices which are the use of a language. We argued that the function thus assigned to logic as a formal auxiliary in a theory of meaning is that which Frege originally envisioned and pursued. Our own development looked at he codification of inferential practices in conditionals in some detail, and somewhat less closely at the codification of repertoires in prosentences containing ‘is true’ and in propositional attitudes, and at the codification of roles in ‘that’-clauses. The basic claim here is that logic must not be restricted to the analysis of the meanings sentences acquire in virtue of the formal inferences they are subject to, as is the usual procedure). Logic should not be viewed as an autonomous discipline in this way, but as a tool for the analysis of material inference, and for making explicit the roles played by sentences in systems of material inferential practice. Using logical devices so interpreted, we were able to specify not only what role a performance needs to play in a system of social practices in order to be a saying (asserting, professing, claiming, etc.) that-p, but also to show what it is about that system of practices in virtue of which the content of such a saying can be that someone else has said (asserted, etc.) something. Indeed the only sort of ‘aboutness’ we ever employ is the reference of one bit of discourse to another (anaphoric reference if performance or sentence tokens are at issue, and mediated by conceptual roles otherwise)” (pp. 55-56).

When Aristotle discusses saying something about something, implicitly that second something is also something said. This phrase refers to that phrase. The kind of reference that is most relevant in all this is what I think of as constitutive cross-reference, or as Brandom calls it, back-reference or anaphora. Less adequately, it has been called “self” reference, but if we examine this closely, it does not involve a unitary self or a pure undifferentiated reflexivity, but rather parts referring to other parts.

Conceptual content emerges out of a sea of cross-reference. A constitutive molecular cross-reference of Fregean declarative “thoughts” or “content” or Aristotelian “sayings” precedes sedimentation into molar subjects and objects.

Epilogue to this series: Anaphora and Reason Relations

Reason Relations

“The construction gestured at so far foreshadows an argument for understanding reason relations of consequence and incompatibility as constituting a structure common to representational meaning and to practical use, to truth-making and to justificatory practices, to the objective world talked about and to the activities of talking about it, to what is represented and to the representing of it. That these same reason relations show up from the two otherwise disparate perspectives afforded by (the right kind of) semantic and pragmatic metavocabularies offers some reason to think of those relations as central to language or discourse as such” (Brandom in Hlobil and Brandom, p. 11).

Hlobil and Brandom’s Reasons for Logic presents major new results. In the technical part, Hlobil presents not just one but two very detailed new isomorphisms that unexpectedly seem to unify previously disparate areas of research in a convincing way. I will barely skim the surface of all that is afoot here. My goal is just to work through a few more pages of the motivational part, which also briefly summarizes the whole.

This notion of reason relations is already quite fascinating.

“Such an approach is unusual, and so perhaps surprising in how it discerns rational forms amphibious between these different dimensions” (p. 12).

It is the “amphibious” or hylomorphic character of what is going on here that is so amazing. This is not just something on the horizon offered to aim at as a goal, but an actual concrete accomplishment. This could make it possible to specify in detail what the substantiality of reason will amount to in particular cases. Brandom’s work has clearly taken on a life of its own, and is now being carried forward by others in new ways.

One of the many ideas afoot here is a suggestion that relations come before “things” in the order of explanation. This has been one of my favorite themes throughout the years. It even appears that this amphibious character of reason relations could enable us to say what constitutes objectivity in particular cases, and not merely gesture at it. If so this is huge, from the point of view of perennial human deficits and conflicts. It could be as big a leap for talking animals as the introduction of Platonic dialogue. Of course, we should anticipate that people will still find things to argue about.

Earlier, it was Brandom who convinced me to take Kant and Hegel seriously, and to take analytic philosophy seriously as actual philosophy and not just a technical endeavor. This greatly elevated appraisal, especially of Kant and Hegel, naturally led me to direct attention to Kant and Hegel themselves. In this context, I almost came to think of Brandom primarily as a very innovative expositor of their work. The products of this collaboration in the Research Group on Logical Expressivism that are reported here leave no doubt that there is much more to Brandom’s work than that.

“One important criterion of adequacy for both semantic and pragmatic metavocabularies as we understand them is that they offer expressive resources sufficient to provide explanations of the reason relations of arbitrary base vocabularies. They are able to say, each in their own distinctive idiom, both what it means for some sentences to stand to others in relations of implication or incompatibility and why they do…. Our preferred version of semantics offers, in effect, truth-makers for the claims that Γ#A (Γ is incompatible with A) and Γ|~A (Γ implies A) in alethic modal terms of the impossibility of fusions of truth-making states of A, and truth-making states Γ with falsifying states of A, respectively — that is, in terms of how the sentences of Γ and A represent the world to be. Our preferred version of pragmatics specifies how one must use sentences in order thereby to count as practically taking or treating them as standing in relations of implication or incompatibility. It does that in deontic normative terms of constellations of commitments to accept and reject the claimables they express being improper, inappropriate, or ‘out of bounds’ ” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“Because both of these kinds of metavocabulary appeal to conceptual resources beyond those intrinsic to the base vocabularies of which they are the metavocabularies, and do so in service not just of characterizing the reason relations of those base vocabularies but of explaining them, the sorts of semantic and pragmatic metavocabulary we consider can be denominated ‘extrinsic-explanatory’ rational metavocabularies” (pp. 12-13).

“In addition to extrinsic-explanatory rational metavocabularies, there are also intrinsic-explicative ones. This latter kind of metavocabulary for reason relations restricts itself to the conceptual resources supplied by the base vocabularies whose reason relations it characterizes, and is used to make explicit those reason relations and the conceptual contents they articulate, rather than to explain why they are as they are, or what it is for them to be what they are. The principal phenomenon we initially seek to understand in these terms is logic. The first way logical vocabulary differs from the semantic and pragmatic metavocabularies considered so far is that it is an intrinsic, rather than an extrinsic metavocabulary for codifying reason relations. The rules by which logical vocabulary is introduced to extend any arbitrary nonlogical base vocabulary appeal to nothing more than the reason relations sentences of the base vocabulary stand in to one another” (p. 13, emphasis in original).

“Gentzen’s basic innovation was to treat reason relations, paradigmatically implications, as objects, called ‘sequents’, that can be referred to and manipulated, and their metainferential relations made explicit in a mathematical metavocabulary. The sequent-calculus metavocabulary can be thought of as applying to an arbitrary nonlogical base vocabulary…. This sequent-calculus metavocabulary allows for efficient expression of the reason relations that hold in any base vocabulary, including metainferential relations. But it is essentially just a notation, requiring no substantial additional conceptual resources beyond what is provided by the base vocabulary whose nonlogical implications and incompatibilities it specifies explicitly.”

“Perhaps surprisingly, the spare sequent-calculus notation… turns out to be sufficient to formulate rules for adding logical vocabulary to any arbitrary base vocabulary, and (most importantly), computing the reason relations of the extended vocabulary from those of the base…. The idea is first to extend the lexicon of the base vocabulary, by syntactic rules that specify that the base lexicon is included in the logically extended lexicon, and that if A and B are sentences in the extended lexicon, then so are [A implies B, A and B, and A or B]…. The complete logically extended vocabulary… can then be computed from the base vocabulary. We say that a corresponding logically extended vocabulary can be elaborated from any arbitrary base vocabulary. Implications and incompatibilities (and metainferences involving them) that hold in every logical extension of a base vocabulary, no matter what base vocabulary it is elaborated from, can then be said to hold in virtue of logic alone” (pp. 13-14).

“The sequent-calculus vocabulary is accordingly a rational metavocabulary — a vocabulary for specifying the reason relations of some other vocabulary — that has the special feature that it permits the elaboration of arbitrary base vocabularies over lexicons that extend the lexicons of the base vocabularies by adding logically complex sentences formed by combining the sentences of the base vocabulary with logical operators. Rules for those operators formulated in the sequent-calculus vocabulary conservatively extend the reason relations of the base vocabulary, in the sense that the implications and incompatibilties that hold among logically atomic sentences in the logically extended vocabulary are just those that already held among them in the base vocabulary. And the connective rules formulated in the sequent-calculus vocabulary do this while appealing to no resources outside of those provided already by the reason relations of the base vocabularies” (p. 15, emphasis added).

“”That is, sequent-calculus metavocabularies are intrinsic rational metavocabularies…. And they elaborate all the reason relations of the extended vocabulary solely from the reason relations of the base vocabulary…. When the reason relations of the logically extended vocabulary are suitably elaborated from those of a base vocabulary, it becomes possible for the first time to say explicitly, in the extended vocabulary, what implications and incompatibilities hold in that base, and also in its logical extension” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“The constellation of the sequent calculus metavocabulary and the logical vocabulary it introduces stands in an intrinsic-explicative relation to the reason relations of any base vocabulary whatsoever…. The rules of the logics we propose can be shown to be expressively complete in a strong sense…. [A]lmost all extant logics either presuppose that the base vocabularies they extend satisfy strong global structural constraints — paradigmatically the monotonicity and transitivity at the core of traditional understandings of specifically logical consequence as a kind of closure operator — or retroactively impose some such global structure, thereby failing to be conservative over some substructural base vocabularies. While we believe that specifically logical consequence does have a global closure structure (and that logical consistency is monotonic), we argue that this is not in general true of nonlogical reason relations” (p. 16, emphasis in original).

Next in this series: Implication Spaces

The Role of Reasons

In a brand-new book co-authored with logician Ulf Hlobil — Reasons for Logic, Logic for Reasons: Pragmatics, Semantics, and Conceptual Roles (2025) — Robert Brandom introduces results from the Research Group on Logical Expressivism, which is inspired by a major strand of his work. Logical expressivism is a highly innovative approach that takes the primary purpose of formal logic to be not the proving of truths, but a kind of making explicit of all kinds of real-world reasoning that are carried out in natural language.

The book introduces quite a number of big ideas — among them logical expressivism, reason relations, implication spaces, conceptual roles, and important new technical results that highlight the importance of nonmonotonic logic and substructural logic. Established Brandomian themes such as normativity and its relation to modality, inferentialism, material inference, and the close connection between semantics and pragmatics also show up here in new light. Brandom has written the more philosophical chapters, and Hlobil the more technical ones.

One interesting surprise is that Brandom explicitly calls the new approach “neo-Aristotelian”. This “neo-Aristotlian metalinguistic bimodal conceptual realism” will be “hylomorphic in a recognizably Aristotelian sense. For it identifies a kind of rational form that is understood as common to thoughts and things…. [T]he relations of consequence and incompatibility that show up in different guises in a whole constellation of intimately interrelated metavocabularies… are those that in the end underwrite practices of reasoning, by determining what is a reason for and against what” (p. 9, emphasis in original).

This is well short of the more full-blooded re-visioning of an open Aristotelianism that I have been suggesting here, but within its scope it does seem genuinely Aristotelian to me — particularly the idea that there are forms common to thought, things, language, and practices of reasoning. This is a nice vindication of the “Aristotle and Brandom” theme with which I began this blog almost six years ago.

“[T]he strategy of addressing philosophy’s perennial concern with the nature of understanding or reason in general by investigating language…. has been developed in two quite different directions…. The first, dominant, better worked out tradition focused on logic, and later, also formal semantics, as perspicuous mathematical metalanguages…. The other tradition focused rather on language as a kind of social practice” (p. 1, emphasis in original).

Brandom has always been interested in both of these. At the beginning of his career he worked on logic, but for most of his maturity he has tended to favor the pragmatic side. Here at one point he ends up suggesting that they may be equally important. The book presents new results in mathematical logic that help bridge the gap.

“Where the formalist tradition is oriented by a conception of understanding and reasons as codified in artificial logical calculi and semantic metalanguages, the pragmatist tradition looks instead directly to natural languages, thought of as social practices and forms of life. In place of the exclusively monological character of reasoning as deriving, modeled on proof, characteristic of the other tradition, understanding shows up in this tradition as a social achievement, and reasoning as essentially dialogical: a matter of discursive practices of giving and asking for reasons, defending and challenging claims that amount to taking up positions in a contestable, public, normative space” (p. 2).

“The two traditions ought by rights to be understood as focusing on different aspects of language: roughly, on the meanings of linguistic expressions, and on their use. In suitably broad senses, we might understand semantics as the study of meaning, and pragmatics as the study of use or discursive practices and abilities. So understood, semantics (even a semantics inspired by and paradigmatically applicable to logic) and pragmatics show up as complementary theoretical endeavors. The goal should be to synthesize semantic and pragmatic theories…. Perhaps the combination of those thoughts recommends rather a more balanced view that eschews claims of explanatory priority in favor of understanding each aspect as in principle intelligible only in terms of its relation to the other” (pp. 2-3, emphasis in original).

“The lesson that emerges, we will argue, is a kind of discursive or linguistic rationalism. Language becomes visible as at base the medium of reasons, and reasoning as the beating heart of language. On the side of pragmatics, the fundamental speech act is that of making claims. The basic speech act of making claims, asserting, is to be understood in terms of practices of defending and challenging those claims, by making other claims that have the practical significance of giving reasons for and against them. Understanding claiming this way provides a path to understanding the claimable contents expressed by declarative sentences in terms of the role they play in relations of being a reason for or against — what we will call ‘reason relations” (p. 3, emphasis in original).

He continues, “On the side of semantics, worldly represented states show up as what determines the reason relations of consequence and incompatibility that the sentences whose truth-makers and falsifiers they are stand in to one another: their roles in reason relations. By understanding the common topic that semantic and pragmatic metalanguages articulate aspects of, not just under the vague rubric of ‘language’, but more specifically as the implicit reason relations that distinguish discursive practices as such, we can better understand not only the relations between the meaning and the use of linguistic expressions, but also the relations between truth (the central concept of traditional semantics) and justification (the central concept of pragmatics, according to linguistic rationalism), in the form of practices of defending claims by giving reasons for them and challenging claims by giving reasons against them” (pp. 3-4, emphasis in original).

“At the core of this book, then, is the rationalist explanatory strategy of understanding the nature of language in terms of what we will call ‘reason relations’. As addressed here, that is a genus with two principal species: implication and incompatibility. They correspond to being a reason for and being a reason against” (p.4).

“A closely related term of art is ‘vocabulary’. We use it in a technical sense, to mean a lexicon or set of declarative sentences, together with an implication relation and an incompatibility relation defined on those sentences. To begin with, we can think of an implication relation as holding between a set of sentences that are its premises and a single sentence that is a conclusion that follows from, is a consequence of, or is implied by those premises. An incompatibility relation holds between a set of premises and a further sentence that those premises exclude, or rule out, or are incompatible with” (p. 5).

He continues, “By calling them (declarative) ‘sentences’ we just mean that they are what in the first instance stand to one another in reason relations of implication and incompatibility…. In virtue of standing to one another in reason relations of implication and incompatibility, what thereby count as declarative sentences express conceptual contents. Those contents can be thought of as the functional roles the sentences play in constellations of implications and incompatibilities” (ibid).

“According to this order of explanation, the key question is: what do we mean by talk of reason relations of implication and incompatibility? In virtue of what does something deserve to count as a consequence or incompatibility relation?” (ibid).

“The idea is to identify reason relations in terms of the various vocabularies that can be used to specify them. Because these are vocabularies for talking about (the reason relations of) other vocabularies, they are metavocabularies. Because it is in particular the reason relations of base vocabularies that they address, we can call them rational metavocabularies” (pp. 5-6, emphasis in original).

“Semantic metavocabularies explain reason relations of implication and incompatibility by specifying what the sentences that stand in those relations mean, in the sense of how the world must be for what they say to be true. The sentences stand to one another in relations of implication and incompatibility because the objective states of affairs that are their semantic truth conditions stand to one another in modally robust relations of necessitation and noncompossibility” (p. 6).

“Pragmatic vocabularies explain what is expressed by reason relations of base vocabularies by saying what features of the discursive practice of using those sentences it is, in virtue of which practitioners count as practically taking or treating the sentences as standing to one another in relations of implication and incompatibility. Pragmatic metavocabularies make it possible to say what it is that language users do in virtue of which they are properly to be understood as practically taking or treating some sentences as implying others in the sense of taking assertion or acceptance of the premises as providing reasons for asserting or accepting the conclusions, and practically taking or treating some sentences as incompatible with others in the sense of taking assertion or acceptance of the premises as providing reasons against asserting or accepting the conclusions. Reason relations show up from the expressive perspective provided by pragmatic metavocabularies as normative standards for assessment of the correctness of rational defenses of and challenges to claims, made by offering other claims as reasons for or reasons against those claims” (p. 6).

“As we will see later in much more detail, to do their job properly, semantic metavocabularies must use alethic modal vocabulary to make claims about what states and combinations of states of the world the base vocabulary talks about are and are not possible. To do their job properly, pragmatic metavocabularies must use deontic normative vocabulary to make claims about what acts, practical attitudes, and combinations of them are and are not appropriate, and what other acts and attitudes would and would not entitle an interlocutor to them. What can be said in alethic modal terms is substantially and importantly different from what can be said in deontic normative terms. The one concerns features of the objective world, the other features of the practice of discursive subjects. These are the two poles of the intentional nexus that links knowers and the known, minds and the world they understand and act in, representings and what is represented. We want to understand both kinds of thing, and the important relations between them” (p. 7).

“Alethic” is from the Greek aletheia, for truth. The parallelism or isomorphism between the “alethic modal” notion of measuring the subjunctive robustness of assertions, and a “deontic normative” Kantian articulation of the compelling or necessary character of ethical conclusions, which Brandom has long stressed, is very substantially elaborated in the new book.

“In the terms used above to introduce the idea of reason relations we propose to understand the alethic modal semantic metavocabulary and the deontic normative pragmatic metavocabulary as offering different (meta)conceptual perspectives on a common object: the incompatibility of what is expressed by the declarative sentence p and what is expressed by the declarative sentence q. Corresponding claims apply to reason relations of consequence or implication” (pp. 7-8, emphasis in original).

Next in this series: An Isomorphism

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

Heidegger’s Story About Metaphysics

This will be quite a long one. For a quick capsule of my own views in this area, see Simple Thoughts About Being.

In Heidegger we have another instance of philosophical historical storytelling, such as came up recently with Brandom’s discussion of Rorty’s links to Dewey’s pragmatism, but this one is the story of a disaster rather than an optimistic vision of progress. This post is part of a response to Robert Pippin’s new book on Heidegger’s “overcoming” of German idealism. I am no Heidegger scholar, but I do know something about the history of things that have been called metaphysics.

Heidegger has famously promulgated an extremely simplified story about the history of Western metaphysics, as from beginning to end the story of a wrong direction. All the philosophers — from Plato to Hegel and beyond — stand indicted, except for Heidegger himself. Any such sweeping condemnation ought to be automatically suspect, but this thesis gained wide currency in the 20th century. According to Heidegger, Hegel’s substitution of “logic” for traditional metaphysics makes the wrong direction that metaphysics has always taken completely explicit.

“Heidegger begins by noting that Hegel, ‘the culminator’, had correctly seen that the underlying commitment of the Western tradition is that metaphysics… is ‘logic’. He does not, of course, mean formal logic, …but what Heidegger calls begreifendes Denken, conceptualizing thinking. He means a commitment to the view that what he calls the actuality of the actual, or the real essence of anything, is what can be grasped conceptually…, a determination of what must be the case for anything to be a determinate thing at all” (Pippin, The Culmination, p. 8).

“This means that being is already understood as what Heidegger will call ‘standing presence’ (ständige or beständige Anwesenheit). By this he means a being that is determinate, discriminable from other beings, and so potentially available to a subject in the present and able to endure through a temporal phase. The comprehensive concept for such an understanding is ousia, substance” (p. 11).

The ousia that has these characteristics is substance in the merely syntactic sense that it is given in Aristotle’s Categories for use in formal logic. Across many posts, we have seen how one of Aristotle’s main goals in the collection of manuscripts the ancient editors called “after the Physics” (meta ta phusika) involves explicating ousia not as a syntactic category, but first as form, and then as act and potentiality.

“This then raises the question that is at the heart of the matter for Heidegger: Why have we not asked whether this (let us say as shorthand, determinately standing being as thinkability) should be assumed to be the orientation for any inquiry about the meaning of being qua being? What grounds can justify such an orientation? Is it possible that a finite, mortal being can understand itself as an in-principle, completely self-knowing being with respect to the fundamental issues of first philosophy? If the question is the meaning of Being as such, it must mean the meaning available for the one being open to that question, and that being is not rightly understood as exclusively self-conscious, a pure thinking being, but as a living, finite being — what Heidegger calls Dasein — and the task of first philosophy must be reformulated in the light of the analysis of that being, a Daseinsanalytik. So, instead of a Phenomenology of Spirit, culminating in the self-knowing of a Science of Logic, we need a ‘metaphysics’ of Dasein” (ibid).

Pippin rather carefully states Hegel’s claim: living, finite beings can have reflective self-knowledge “in principle” and “with respect to the fundamental issues of first philosophy”. This involves neither infallibility nor omniscience.

Heidegger is right that Plato, Aristotle, and Hegel, among others, think of being as inseparable from intelligibility. He is right too that Aristotle and Hegel, in their pursuit of intelligibility, direct inquiry away from being qua being as a matter of principle. I would say this is because their investigations have convinced them that being qua being cannot explain intelligibility or meaning. But Heidegger has only asserted — and not shown — that the sincere pursuit of intelligibility must inevitably go wrong.

Pippin emphasizes Heidegger’s insistence that we are finite, mortal beings. Heidegger criticizes Kant for allegedly giving up his insistence on our finitude in the second edition of the Critique of Pure Reason, in favor of emphasis on the transcendental.

Hegel takes the emphasis on finitude to be a defeatist stance. He provocatively claims that in spite of our finitude and mortality, language and reflection introduce humans to a kind of infinity. He argues that we should embrace that infinity.

“But when Heidegger argues against any absolute status for philosophical judgments, he is not merely arguing against Hegel or an old-fashioned self-understanding but against all traditional philosophy itself” (p. 12, emphasis in original).

This is all deeply related to the question of whether humans can have genuine knowledge at all. Hegel is an optimist about this; Heidegger is a pessimist.

The vexed term “absolute” seems to be used by Heidegger in a blunt, black-and-white sense. For better or worse, “absolute” was a much overused term in Hegel’s Germany, made fashionable by the Schellingians. Hegel has quite a few wry comments about these pundits of “absolute” truth.

I have suggested that for Hegel, knowledge is said to be “absolute” when it fully recognizes its own relativity, which is to say its own conditioned character. Hegel’s claim would then be that anything deserving the name of knowledge in the fullest sense can and must in principle be capable of recognizing its own relativity. Perhaps indeed this is a criterion for knowledge in the fullest sense, not unlike the Socratic criterion for wisdom as recognition of all we do not know.

“[I]increasingly after Being and Time, Heidegger came to characterize what he was about as an attempt to ‘overcome’ Hegel, whom he consistently characterized as the ‘culmination’ of the entire Western tradition as well as German Idealism” (p. 13). Pippin quotes Heidegger, “with
German Idealism, it seemed as if philosophy as such had reached an end and had entrusted the administration of knowledge exclusively to the sciences” (ibid).

“This is all tied to Heidegger’s view that true metaphysical thinking is not to be understood as a strictly cognitive exercise of pure reason, and this is linked with a hermeneutic rather than analytic character of thinking. For him this means that such interpretive or ‘meaning-seeking’ thinking is inseparable from how such thinking should matter to any thinker” (p. 14).

But Aristotle and Hegel each in their own way do practice a kind of thinking that is more hermeneutic than analytic. They just don’t use the word, at least in its contemporary sense. (Aristotle’s On Interpretation is literally hermeneutike, but it is among the least hermeneutic of Aristotle’s texts.) Aristotle and Hegel’s difference with Heidegger is that like Paul Ricoeur also does, they recognize that more “analytic” investigations do also have value for a primarily hermeneutic orientation.

“And this mattering is complicated by the fact that such thinking is burdened by a dependence on a ground we constantly experience as beyond our ability to grasp conceptually” (p. 15).

Here is where things get complicated. For Heidegger, the ground is in principle beyond our ability to grasp conceptually. I think this assumes what Hegel would call an unreflective and therefore untrue (representational) notion of what is conceptual.

Brandom has written a lot about the very unordinary because nonrepresentational notion of the conceptual in Kant and Hegel, and I see something similar in Aristotle. (I find it a bit odd that Brandom is so generous in his reading of Heidegger, and am quite sure that Heidegger would not return the favor.)

“Heidegger has rejected understanding beings as mere objects standing over against a subject as a derivative and misleading assumption, and his references to Being are not to a being. So ‘being lasts as the withdrawing-proferring’ must refer to an ultimate source of meaningfulness that emerges historically, contingently, in a way that orients Dasein but cannot be determinately discriminated” (p. 20).

I find this ironic. It could be said that Hegel’s life work was devoted to promoting a point of view other than that of a subject confronting an object. Hegel can be abstruse and frustrating, but I better trust his version of this.

“[T]here is no other being like Dasein, whose own being is what Heidegger calls ‘existence’, a being of pure possibility that flees its call to itself to interrogate the meaning of its being, until wrenched out of its daily thoughtlessness by anxiety” (p. 21).

The description of “pure possibility” recalls some discussions of potential intellect in the broadly Aristotelian tradition. Of course, Aristotelian intellect does not “flee its call to itself”, or need to be “wrenched out of its daily thoughtlessness,” or experience anxiety. On some accounts such things might be said of the soul, but Aristotelian psyche has organic roots and is in no way a pure possibility. On the other hand, as a result of a complex contingent development, a fused notion of “intellectual soul” gained wide currency in the Latin middle ages, and this laid the ground for the oddly amphibious character of the Cartesian cogito and the Lockean understanding, which obliterate any distinction at all between intellect and a psychological entity.

“Dasein is described as always already ‘thrown’ into its world, inheriting a structure of significance, mattering, salience, and importance that forms a horizon of meaningfulness for any Dasein’s self-interrogation” (p. 22).

This sort of thing is probably one of the major appeals of Heidegger. Some of the vocabulary is uniquely his. But what is being said here is actually not that far from a traditional view (substitute “the soul” for Dasein). Experiences of encountering meaningfulness in a “world” that is already constituted independent of our willful doing are not far to find.

“The continuity of [Heidegger’s] emphasis on meaningfulness as the crux of the issue of Being’s availability is the interpretation I want to defend…. We can call this a resolute reading of Heidegger” (p. 25).

“The major question is the question of the meaningful availability of being at all”…. In Division One of [Being and Time], the possibility of any such nondiscursive availability is established by demonstrating phenomenologically that Dasein is Being-in-the World, not a subject standing over against objects, and a being whose meaning is care” (p. 26).

I am tempted to suggest that Hegelian Geist could also be said to be “Being-in-the World, not a subject standing over against objects, and a being whose meaning is care”. The difference is that Heidegger insists this all occurs at a nondiscursive level. A common Hegelian model is that things that do not start out as immediate can effectively acquire an immediate character.

(This calls for a brief sidebar on the strange way “discursivity” is used in the literature on Kant. Discursivity ought to simply mean something depending on articulation in discourse, as opposed to intuition or immediacy. But what is commonly called Kant’s “discursivity thesis” is his rather extreme claim that the understanding is entirely active, and includes no passive or receptive component or aspect whatsoever.)

“This is not at all to deny that this emphasis after the war shifted from existential thrownness into a world to the problem of language. But the general theme of most relevance to the critique of German Idealism — dependence, and so the impossibility of Hegel’s (and all of philosophy’s pure, autonomous thinking — is still apparent. In ‘Poetically Man Dwells’, a 1951 lecture…, we read, ‘Man acts as though he were the shaper and master of language, while in fact language remains the master of man’ ” (p. 27).

Brandom might remind us here of Hegel’s own very sharp critique of “independence” and mastery.

“But, and here lies the source of the difficulty, what we have come to understand as metaphysics actually has never really addressed the question it poses for itself, aside from traces of an appreciation of the genuine issue in the pre-Socratics. Metaphysics has asked instead about the possible meaning of the ‘beings’…. The ancient answer to such a question was, of course, form. But… that leaves unanswered, in all traditional metaphysics, the possible meaningfulness of Being qua Being itself” (p. 28).

Here we get Heidegger’s line — only the pre-Socratics and Heidegger got Being right, and everyone else in history is completely off base. What’s peculiar is that Heidegger, who emphasizes how the Latin tradition distorts the Greek, takes up the scholastic valorization of “being qua being” without seeming to recognize how un-Aristotelian it actually is. Not that the equivalent phrase never appears in Aristotle (it does, in a relatively peripheral role), but only a huge weight of commentary promoted it to the central role it has in Aquinas.

“The problem of the ‘meaning of being’ is the problem of the meaningfulness of beings — that is, beings in the way they matter…. The source of that meaningfulness is the possibility of meaningfulness as such, the possible meaningfulness of Being as such. That possibility of meaningfulness question is not a transcendental possibility for Heidegger because it cannot be raised in strict distinction from the meaningfulness of beings. That is, this relation, between the general possibility of meaningfulness of Being at all, and the meaningfulness of entities, is not a matter of conceptual necessity but of what Heidegger calls ‘primordiality’…. There is a profound difference between the two regimes of meaningfulness, what Heidegger calls the ontological difference” (pp. 31-32).

Heidegger’s insistence on a radical split between “ontic” and “ontological” things — beings versus Being — is unprecedented. I cannot help being reminded of the sharp division between created things and the Eternal in the Hegelian “Unhappy Consciousness”. Perhaps Heidegger represents a contemporary Unhappy Consciousness.

“In his 1927 lecture course The Basic Problems of Phenomenology, Heidegger is unambiguous about what he considers the basic philosophical problem. ‘We assert now that being is the sole and proper theme of philosophy.’ Philosophy itself is said to be ‘the science of being’. That Heidegger believes is unambiguous. No philosopher has ever concentrated so intensely on one question for the entirety of his fifty-plus-year career. But the first question for any student of Heidegger is simply what this question concerns…. Is the question of the meaning of Being even a question — that is, a question with a possible answer?” (p. 33).

Before this book of Pippin’s, I was very aware of Heidegger’s reverence for Parmenidean Being, but the close linkage that Pippin brings out between the “question of Being” and general questioning about meaning is new to me. My own attitude is that Aristotelian first philosophy is best understood as itself a kind of higher-order or generalized hermeneutics, and that general questioning about meaning does not benefit from being related to a notion of being as such.

“This issue is made more difficult because Heidegger is eager to qualify and to some extent marginalize the usual and much more familiar semantic ways of addressing the problem: the various senses of the word ‘is'” (ibid).

Indeed. Aristotle’s classic discussion of the ways in which being is said is structured entirely around the transitive senses of “is”. Being as such is not a substance but a transitive verb, “to be x”. Aristotle mentions it mainly in the context of the extreme generality of an incompatibility of contradictory assertions that is more than just syntactic. Being as such is something separate from Aristotle’s own notion of first cause (see also here); this identification was introduced much later.

“[Heidegger] tells us that such formulations assume the answer to the question he is trying to pose and so do not point to a way of addressing it…. Heidegger’s lifelong claim is that forgetting the question of the meaning of being is a catastrophic event in the history of mankind, that it leads to nihilism and a predatory, self-destructive technical manipulation of the earth” (p. 34).

If “forgetting” the question is a catastrophic event in history, this implies that it was previously clearly understood, at least by pre-Socratic philosophers such as Heraclitus and Parmenides. We are then supposed to return to an immaculate origin. But history doesn’t show any such immaculate origin, and Plato’s dialogues already demonstrated that the teachings of both Heraclitus and Parmenides are untenable as they stand. Plato is vastly more sophisticated than either of them, with respect to the kinds of arguments he exhibits in his dialogues. And Aristotle is even more sophisticated than Plato. Here we really do have an example of the kind of progressive development that Brandom, following Rorty and Dewey, thinks we should be looking for in history. But as Nietzsche said, philosophers tend to be untimely. No historic society or culture as a whole has ever lived up to the deeper insights of Plato and Aristotle. In terms of sophistication of arguments, the contemporary world at a broad social level still has a pre-Platonic level of understanding.

“His is not a question of ontological commitment, the question of what beings there are or what kinds of beings. (E.g., Is there a God? Are there minds? Are there possibilities? And he does not ask: what makes it possible for beings to be the determinate beings they are? How can they be what they are and be differentiated from other beings? (E.g. what is it to be a mind? What is it to be a possibility?… He does not even mean what must be true of anything at all” (p. 35).

Heidegger argues for the primacy of “fundamental ontology”, which he distinguishes from the ordinary ontology that presupposes a great deal of implicit understanding about things in the world. This latter kind of ontology was already decisively criticized by Kant as dogmatic. But at least as interpreted by the neo-Kantians who dominated German academia in the early 20th century, Kant’s critique represented a turn toward epistemology. Indeed the whole “modern” tradition from Descartes on is sometimes characterized as primarily epistemological and science-oriented. Heidegger is definitely arguing for something new here, a new kind of first philosophy linked more closely with art and poetry.

“[A]ll consciousness-based and representational models of intentionality, are all improperly formulated and misleading. The possibility of such intentionality should rather be understood as requiring ‘being in the world’. A subject-conscious-of-a-distinct-object model should be replaced by an inseparable subject-object nexus, a subject always already transcended in a practical and unthematic relation to its objects. The relation is not one of spectatorship or simple perceptual awareness but ‘comportment’ (Verhalten), an active engagement with the world, an involvement that is driven by how things have come to matter” (p. 36).

We are agreed on this. But Brandom has argued that Kant and Hegel already moved beyond a consciousness-based or representational model of intentionality to one grounded in normativity. Moreover, the normativity model seems a better fit for Plato and Aristotle as well. So what Heidegger is criticizing does not seem to apply to any of the four greatest philosophers in the tradition.

“For Heidegger, world is not the totality of what there is, as in Kant, or all that is the case, as in Wittgenstein. World is a necessarily presupposed (i.e., primordial) condition for the possible availability or accessibility of beings within such a world in the first place…. This notion of availability as deep familiarity implies a kind of immediacy in our original encounter with beings in the world, but not like the direct presence of intentional objects as in theories of a pure ‘given’…. This implies a kind of immersion in the field of significances” (ibid).

I’m not quite sure about this. Immersion in a field of significances sounds promising, but what is this deep familiarity and immediacy that would not be a direct presence?

“In a very shorthand way, we can say that the background world for any possible accessibility and for [the individuation of humans] is a historical world — what Heidegger will call, using another term for openness, a clearing (Lichtung), not a species form” (p. 39).

Heidegger’s metaphor of a “clearing” has a kind of appeal. This seems to be a kind of historically emergent indeterminacy. All human experience is historically conditioned. There is no logos without ethos.

“Dasein is what it takes itself to be, within a world into which it is thrown, over which it has no power or influence. This means that primordial access to beings and to beings as a whole, being as such, is not originally cognitive, not the object of judgments, but requires instead what Heidegger calls a prior attunement…. [I]t is that involvement within a world that allows meaningful access to the beings that show up in such a world” (ibid).

Here we see a number of familiar themes, expressed in a novel vocabulary that is more dramatic and more categorical. The “taking” part is a familiar Kantian notion, but here it seems to be absolutized for the single individual in a way that Hegel at least would call one-sided. The social/ethical reciprocity in the constitution of meaning that Hegel so emphasizes is completely absent here. The world into which we are thrown again seems to be a very blunt dramatization of the non-independence and non-mastery that is an essential feature of human being for Hegel. But Kant or Hegel would also never say that we have no power or influence over the world, only that it is finite.

I’m still not quite sure what is going on with this vocabulary of “access” and “availability” of beings. At first I thought Pippin meant to associate it with what Heidegger pejoratively calls presence-at-hand, which seems to involve a kind of prejudice, like what the philosophically oriented sociologist Karl Mannheim calls ideology in the general sense. (Mannheim does in fact rather superficially refer to Heidegger, among others.) But here this access or availability seems to be playing a more positive role in Heidegger’s account, and to the extent that it does, it suggests a rather Cartesian separation of subject and object, which seems very ironic. Heidegger denounces all of “Western metaphysics”, from beginning to end, for supposedly assuming something like this. I don’t think this “Cartesian” notion of subject and object really applies to key figures like Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and Hegel, among others. Meanwhile, the researches of Alain de Libera on the “archaeology of the subject” strongly suggest that what is called the Cartesian subject has deep roots not only in scholasticism, but also earlier among the Christian church fathers.

I think the sharp dualism Heidegger puts between the bad, empirical ontic of the everyday and the good, metaphysical ontological that addresses only Being with a capital B is undesirable, and too much like the uncrossable separation between worldly beings and God in what Hegel calls the Unhappy Consciousness. Heidegger throws away too much. The philosophical dignity of the ontic should be rehabilitated. Even Hegel — who is very concerned not to swallow all particulars up in the whole in the way that he says that Spinoza does — sometimes seems to me to go too far in his critique of reified “things”.

“If there were no Dasein, there would be all the entities there now are, but none of them would mean anything. The world is the condition of availability…. The question of what accounts for things existing at all is not Heidegger’s question” (p. 40).

If there were no interpretive activity, there would be no meaning. He is right that this has nothing to do with the uninteresting question of whether things exist or not.

“The task of metaphysics is said to be to ‘awaken’ a fundamental attunement to the world (or to awaken us to the realization that we are already attuned)… in the musical sense of being tuned, on the right wavelength, or appreciatively engaged in this field of what matters” (p. 41).

The musical metaphor, like the appeals to poetry, has a kind of intuitive resonance, but here we have to tread carefully. Heidegger seems to appeal to simple intuition in places where there would be ramified reflection in Hegel.

“The ontologically significant states that disclose such meaningfulness as such are attunements like anxiety or boredom, where all such mattering in a sense fails, and so, in such a brutal contrast, the fundamentality (and contingency) of meaningfulness and manifestness as such is salient. And Heidegger always insists that such a significance, such degrees of mattering, cannot be understood as a subject projecting onto otherwise meaningless entities. There are no two steps in such Bedeutsamkeit, or meaningfulness: an encounter with a mere object and then a subjective projection of value by an individual or community. There are not two steps because there is no such first step; Dasein is ‘always already’ within the world of meaningfulness” (pp. 41-42).

That there is an “always already” aspect to our engagement with meaning seems entirely right. But what is this “manifestness as such”? It sounds like mere appearance that contributes nothing to understanding.

“Heidegger is proposing to shift the main tasks of philosophy from the analysis of concepts involved on knowledge claims, empirical experience, and moral claims to an interpretive enterprise, at the center of which are these notions of familiarity (Vertrautheit), meaningfulness (Bedeutsamkeit), and care (Sorge). As he tells us, a ‘fundamental ontology’ is a ‘hermeneutics of facticity’, and for all the revisions in his language and approach, I don’t believe he ever changed his views about the ‘fundamentality’ of such a hermeneutics (p. 42).

I found an early (1923) lecture course of Heidegger entitled Ontology: The Hermeneutics of Facticity, in which he emphasizes that hermeneutics is “not just a doctrine about interpretation… Hermeneutics has the task of making the Dasein which is in each case our own accessible to this Dasein itself with regard to the character of its being, communicating Dasein to itself in this regard, hunting down the alienation from itself with which it is smitten” (p. 11 in link above).

Heidegger delights in putting forward new jargon, like specifying what is to be interpreted as “the being-there of Dasein in the awhileness of temporal particularity” (p. 5 in link above). In any case, Dasein is supposed to better characterize us than reason or intellect or Husserlian phenomenology.

I agree that interpretation does (or should) come before any account of knowledge or being. Meaning is never reducible to something merely given to us, but requires a kind of practical engagement. It is something that we create or construct as much as find.

“That is why the epistemological issue is not prominent in what follows. The manifestation of such significance… ‘happens’ as a matter of mattering and is not a problem of idealism and realism… [also] not a psychological or social-normative issue” (p. 43).

He wants significance to be something that “happens”. I agree it is not a psychological or sociological or other empirical fact. At a simple level, significance could be said to “happen” when interpretation happens. But as such, meaning is no more an event than it is a fact.

“Heidegger’s question is not about the content of the concept Being, but rather about the meaningfulness of our engagements and comportings” (p. 44).

“As Heidegger increasingly insists throughout the ’30s, manifestness in this sense is an event” (ibid).

Unlike meaning, it does seem as though manifestness could be considered at least closely related to a kind of event (an appearing). But I don’t think meaning or significance is reducible to such manifestness.

“Beings don’t have this familiar signification in isolation but within a horizon of possible meaningfulness — that is, within a world…. [T]he world can never become an object, a being, in the world…. And he claims: ‘We can never look upon the phenomenon of world directly’…. That is, the problem of the worldhood of the world in effect names the problem of the meaning of Being as such…. The combination of the world’s centrality and relative cognitive unavailability is what produces what Heidegger refers to as a kind of homesickness, an uncanniness at our being always subject to such a world into which we are thrown, but which we cannot redeem, make sense of theoretically, or directly articulate…. [S]uch worldhood is not a source we have any extra-worldly access to. Anyone for whom anything matters knows that such mattering cannot be understood as the result of any prior reflection on what ought to matter” (p. 45, emphasis in original).

There is no meaning of anything in isolation. Meaning exists only in relation to other meaning. It is an effect of the interconnection of things. “Worldhood” is a name Heidegger gives to this non-isolation of meanings, of which I note again that Hegel was the pioneer in modern times. But once more, I do not see what this would have to do with being as such. The relations that make up the world are concrete.

“Given that the emphasis here on our primary access to the meaning of Being as such is an attunement, not any theoretical claim, and given this focus through boredom, it is clearly the case that Heidegger is tracking how things ‘mean’ to us (‘how things stand concerning us’) as a matter of mattering, a kind of mattering that could contingently collapse and thereby reveal itself” (pp. 47-48).

Heidegger’s novel focus on motifs like boredom and anxiety in Being and Time became a major catalyst for 20th century existentialism. Pippin is generously tracing this back to the much more general question of how things come to “matter” to us. I think there is a more direct and more classical path into this question of mattering, which need have nothing to do with boredom or anxiety. At the level of “us”, we need to stop dichotomizing reason and feeling. As Aristotle said, ethical choice is “either intellect fused with desire, or desire fused with thinking, and such a source is a human being”.

Pippin expands on what he means by “mattering”. His account recalls both Hegel and American pragmatism.

“Our initiation into any historical world is primarily an initiation into this realm of mattering…. Language use is normative not only grammatically but in the matter of its proprieties. That is, we are implicitly attuned to proprieties, or meaningfulness and significances, in daily exchanges with others. (Being so attuned is not incompatible with disregarding or challenging such assumed norms. In fact, it is a necessary condition for doing so.) Likewise, when we learn a task, like cooking, we learn the normative proprieties of the art: what utensils are for, how to use them, what makes for good seasoning, good time management, best techniques, mis en place, etc. We learn to understand the relation between eating and dining, and the place of food and cooking in the rituals of family and social life. In this and many other domains, all the beings we encounter are encountered within a world in which public proprieties have come to prevail, and we are onto these not by having beliefs about them or as a result of explicit evaluations but through being in a world, coping with other beings and other Dasein, in our Verhalten, as Heidegger keeps saying: comportment, a practical mode of access everywhere normative” (p. 48).

Clearly, “mattering” has what the Kant scholars would nowadays call a normative character.

“Heidegger’s main point is that the present-at-hand seems to be such that an engagement with mere substances and their proprieties is treated as if it weren’t a worldly interpretation. We are engaged in a practical comportment that we take ourselves to be avoiding, to be aspiring to ‘the view from nowhere’. This would be like saying that what has come to matter most is a ‘not mattering’ world-relation” (p. 50, emphasis in original).

Pippin elsewhere compares the Heideggerian present-at-hand to the point of view of mere Consciousness in Hegel’s Phenomenology. They are both concerned with the reification of experience into subject and object. They both suppress their own interpretive character.

“I should also signal here that, especially with respect to Hegel, we will have to revisit the issue of a logical prejudice and examine whether Hegel is guilty of it. After all, Hegel relies in the Phenomenology on such nondiscursive moments as the struggle for recognition, which is certainly not an exchange of judgmental claims” (ibid).

Pippin elsewhere points out that Heidegger’s claim that Hegel’s approach to meaning necessarily involves a “logical prejudice” and ignores nondiscursive dimensions is itself tendentious.

Where he seems to have more sympathy to Heidegger is in relation to the Hegelian talk about the absolute. It now seems to me that like Brandom, Pippin ultimately rejects the Hegelian absolute, rather than just having a deflationary interpretation of it, such as I would propose. I think the “absolute” is inflated (originally Schellingian) rhetoric for the much more modest claim that there is after all some knowledge in the strong sense of episteme. Properly speaking, the Hegelian absolute is not God, though Hegel does figuratively connect the two, especially when he is trying to be understood by nonphilosophers. More properly, the absolute is any instance of pure thought. But the reality of pure thought is itself challenging to explain, especially as applicable to us humans, who experience and indeed are constituted by the fusion of intellect and desire. Aristotle, Averroes, Hegel, and Husserl all make important contributions to such an explanation.

“[T]he way in which the problem of being as such gets any kind of grip on Dasein is not as the result of judgmental claims. The manifestness of beings as a whole cannot be understood as the content of any ‘as such’ judgment. That is the ‘apophantical as’ and cannot be original because it depends on a prior ‘hermeneutical as’…. [T]he meaning should not be thought of in terms of discursivity — again, the cardinal sin of the metaphysical tradition, culminating in Kant and Hegel” (p. 52).

It seems to me that Heidegger’s notion of discursivity is too narrow. In Pippin’s account we see a kind of dichotomy operating, between the kind of judgment associated with assertion, and interpretation. Yes, the “apophantical as” does indeed depend on the “hermeneutic as”, but in my view this was already anticipated by Aristotle. Wisdom is excellence in interpretation, not allegedly “knowing” some pre-existing truth. Truth is not prefabricated in Plato or Aristotle; it is only arrived at through sustained inquiry, and it is the sustaining of the inquiry that gives it its solidity.

“[F]or Heidegger, in all of Western philosophy, we do not know what we mean when we simply note that something, whatever it is, is manifested as what it actually is, endures, or is still alive or occupies space — or, to broach a large topic for him, what ‘happens’ to be” (p. 55).

I say that this is obscurantist. Mere happening to be in and of itself has no meaning at all. It corresponds to inarticulate noise. We begin to have meaning when we talk about some detailed way of being. A mere accident has no meaning.

“So the question is not what some being is, or what it is as such, but what it ‘means’ for it to be at all. By ‘meaning’ here he does not mean linguistic meaning (he says that all linguistic meaning is founded on ontological meaning), and he does not mean meaning in the sense of purposiveness” (p. 56).

So the conclusion does not follow. The linguistic meaning that is rejected here seems to be that of a banal representationalism, and the purposiveness a banal form of utility. But ordinary linguistic meaning is not purely representational; it too has a “poetic” dimension. And internal teleology in Aristotle and Hegel is precisely not reducible to utility (see Teleology After Kant).

“Heidegger will often also note that being should be considered a ‘presencing’ (Anwesende) of being, not something present at hand. By making this distinction, he means that any being present to us (which Heidegger thinks we usually and thoughtlessly attend to as merely present-at-hand (Vorhanden) is only a result” (p. 58, emphasis in original).

That everything that seems to be simply given or present at hand is better understood as a result, is an insight that goes all the way back to Aristotle’s insistence on the priority of ends. It appears in a particularly vivid form in Kant and Hegel.

“This would mean a wholly contingent shifting from beings available as substantial in one period, …to, in another, beings available as created beings, to beings available only as represented for a subject, to being available only as material for technological manipulation…. The Greek notion of ousia (which Heidegger insists is already connected to property, material for use, disposability), the medieval focus on ens creatum, the post-Cartesian notion of represented-being, and the technological orientation all involve a kind of concealment (and therein lies a crude summary of Heidegger’s entire history of metaphysics) that must be different from the inevitable and, one might say, ontologically appropriate sort of ‘concealing’ (more a kind of elusiveness) in the ‘work of art’ — a Greek temple, say” (pp. 66-67).

This recognition of “elusiveness” goes all the way back to Socrates and Plato. It is what underlies Socratic questioning and the long detour.

“Plato and Aristotle set us in a direction we have found it impossible to free ourselves from — the metaphysics of presence, the primordial mattering of intelligibility, knowing, which shows up even in Nietzsche’s claim to have freed us from metaphysical illusions” (p. 67).

Plato and Aristotle were the original critics of the metaphysics of presence. In modern times, this critique was notably taken up by Hegel.

“Nothing is ever originally available to us as such present-at-hand beings, but remarkably we have come to experience the world through some sort of willful blindness thanks to which our everyday world, what should be closest to us, the familiarity of the world as pragmata, is furthest from us…. The question of the meaning of Being has been not only forgotten but suppressed, layered over with some putative ‘neutral’ posing of observing subjects against present at hand substances” (p. 69, emphasis in original).

Hegel’s Phenomenology is from beginning to end an elaboration of a more sophisticated version of this insight.

“Heidegger asks… ‘Why is logic the science of assertion?’…. But there is an obvious answer to Heidegger’s question. The assumption behind the priority of logos is that only an assertion can be a truth-bearer, can be true or false. And if true, then an assertion says how things are, corresponds with being ” (p. 70).

I say logic is a tool that is helpful in interpretation.

“[C]ontrary to what Heidegger says, truth must still reside in some assertion about what is disclosed. An event cannot itself be true or false” (p. 71).

Assertions are what is “true or false”. But I also recognize poetic truth, which is not “true or false”.

“The meaning of one’s being is one’s ‘ownmost’….Such knowledge can only be arrived at first-personally…. And so in cases like these (where the meaning of Dasein’s being is at issue), a propositional formulation would get us nowhere” (ibid).

Essence is not reducible to propositional content, to statements that are true or false. It involves propositional content and valuation and poetic truth. It is characteristic of Plato’s depictions of Socrates that he already makes makes a major theme of showing in many different ways that essence is elusive. That is what distinguishes it from appearance.

“The issue of the original meaningfulness of being in any historical world is simply not statable in propositional terms, and its availability in literature and life is a matter of interpretation, not cognition, attunement not assertion…. Instead any propositional formulation and assertion must be said to presuppose a ‘context of significance’…. Such a context is not one Dasein has a mediated relation ‘to’; hence all the formulations about Dasein being its disclosedness…, that it is the ‘clearing’ where such disclosure happens'” (p. 73).

In the mode of poetic truth, it could even be said that we interpreting animals come to be what we are by participating in the clearing where meaning “happens”. But if we are to speak of a happening of meaning, it should be said that such happening is not at all purely contingent. I am inclined to think that “purely contingent meaning” is an oxymoron. Where there is meaning at all, it must be possible to give some kind of account of it, even if it be not univocal.

Next in this series: Versions of Finitude

Availability of Being?

After a quick first pass through Robert Pippin’s new book, I have some initial responses. It doesn’t seem either quite as momentous or quite as disruptive to the orientation I have been developing here as I imagined it might. It does give a nice survey of the various writings of Heidegger that address Kant’s and Hegel’s roles in Heidegger’s summary story about a rise and fall of “Western metaphysics”. It incorporates much material that has been only relatively recently made public in posthumous volumes of Heidegger’s collected works.

Pippin says in the front matter that he came to regard as chimerical the Hegelian “Absolute” that he so valiantly sought to explain in Hegel’s Realm of Shadows. He also seems here to reject a thesis that he emphasized and I puzzled over in the other book, namely that “logic is metaphysics”. But of course “logic” here doesn’t mean logic in the ordinary sense, but rather an account of the conditions of intelligibility or something like that, and I go against the mainstream in dissociating Aristotle from the later “metaphysics” oriented toward being as such. I don’t think Hegel means to dwell on being as such either. “Metaphysics” simply is not an Aristotelian word. Aristotle speaks of first philosophy or wisdom, as what does seem to me to be a kind of “meta” level of interpretation. Hegel was the first modern philosopher to take Aristotle seriously, and he clearly says he is not doing metaphysics as traditionally understood. But in doing what he does he is doing a kind of first philosophy, in what I take to be the general ballpark of Aristotle’s sense, so in that sense Pippin is right.

That giving an account of the conditions of intelligibility (“logic”) could be seen as a development of meta levels of interpretation (“first philosophy”) sounds pretty reasonable to me. But Pippin is speaking in a more conventional way of metaphysics that is supposed to be an account of being qua being. This results in a very different claim. As Pippin rightly points out, on this interpretation it is closely related to Hegel’s claim that contrary to Kant, there is no irreducible gap between being and thinking; indeed that there could be none if thought is to be possible at all. I note that Schelling and Engels assert in actually very similar language that there is a fundamental dispute about whether being or thought comes first, that Hegel puts thought first, and that we should instead put being first.

This claim that being comes before thought is something I used to identify with. Now I would just say that the two are deeply interwoven. Does this mean “identity” in Hegel’s sense? But Hegel uses that term very loosely, as covering all kinds of cases where things are not unequivocally separable, as in Aristotelian hylomorphism.

Hegel claims not that we have perfect knowledge of being qua being, but that a Kantian/Hegelian notion of reflection like Pippin emphasizes in the other book straddles the boundary between so-called “subject” and so-called “object”, and — if pursued far enough — eventually opens the way to a concrete from which abstractions like “thought” and “being” are derived.

I suppose my own very minimalist version of a deflationary account of the misleadingly named Hegelian absolute must be considerably weaker in the sense of claiming less than it claims in Pippin’s interpretation. There are quite a few texts that pose problems for my minimalist view, but I think there are quite a few texts that pose problems for “stronger” readings as well.

Pippin devotes about equal space to Heidegger’s reading of Kant and of Hegel. He makes the rather obvious point that Heidegger’s claim that intuition is the root of all thought for Kant is tendentious at best. But in this book, he seems to recharacterize Hegel in ways that make it easier for him to agree with Heidegger. He talks about reason “exfoliating” things, which hardly seems an inviting metaphor. He now expresses sympathy for Heidegger’s claim that the whole tradition from Plato and Aristotle to Hegel implicitly presumes the “availability” of being to knowledge, a presumption that Hegel is supposed to have finally made explicit via his identification of logic with metaphysics, thus “culminating” the metaphysical tradition. This is also related to what Heidegger called the “enframing” related to manipulation and technology, which I agree is a real thing. But what Plato and Aristotle and Kant and Hegel, with their primarily ethical orientation of reason, have to do with dehumanizing aspects of technology, I have no idea. Heidegger’s argument is extremely telescoped and reductive.

I want to suggest that on the contrary, reason is built on reasonableness, or not over-reacting to things in life, which is largely a matter of emotional constitution.

The contents of our thought are not easily separable from what we imagine. It seems to me that any positive content will include an element of imagination. I don’t claim to rigorously know this or to have a proof of it, but I have high confidence in it. At the same time, I also have high confidence that there is something deserving of the term “knowledge”, in spite of all human frailty. But there is vastly more in which we can reasonably have high confidence than which we can seriously claim to know.

Next in this series: Culmination of the Culmination

What We Mean by Meaning

Returning to Brandom’s Spinoza lectures, he has been clarifying his relation to the tradition of American pragmatist philosophy, which is largely mediated by the work of his former teacher and colleague Richard Rorty.

“At the core of the capacious ‘big tent’ tradition Rorty retrospectively rationally reconstructs under the rubric of ‘pragmatism’ is this broadly naturalistic, anthropological-ecological conception of language as an evolving population of discursive practices that is a, indeed the, distinctive feature of the natural history of creatures like us” (Pragmatism and Idealism, p. 41).

Aristotle defines humans as animals that have logos, or meaningful discourse. Hegel says that “language is the Dasein [“existence”, literally “being there”] of spirit”. The pragmatists Pierce and Dewey were interested in Hegel, and notably took a down-to-earth attitude toward his work. Brandom picks up this somewhat loose link to Hegel, and strengthens and sharpens it.

“This is what motivates and justifies [Rorty’s] use of this term [pragmatism] to characterize not only philosophers such as Pierce and Dewey, who embraced it themselves, but others such as Wittgenstein and Heidegger, and Sellars, Quine, and Davidson, who (sometimes explicitly and emphatically) did not. Rorty sees a stark contrast between this way of thinking about language and the analytic representationalist tradition that runs from Frege, Russell, and the Wittgenstein of the Tractatus through Carnap and Tarski to his colleague David Lewis. This tradition models language on formal monological logistical calculi, justification on proof of theorems from axioms, and truth conditions on model-theoretic semantics for such artificial languages. What, Rorty asks, does any of that have to do with what users of natural languages do?” (ibid).

Brandom himself speaks of “pragmatism” in this same very broad and yet distinctly philosophical way. Here we get a glimpse of how he arrived at that.

“In taking this line, Rorty rightly understands himself as appealing to the Pierce-Dewey tradition of American pragmatism to amplify and radicalize Quine’s and Sellars’ criticisms of Carnap, and following up on Wittgenstein’s advice for philosophers to look not to the [formal, logical, representational] meaning of expressions, but to their use‘” (ibid).

Brandom more commonly cites Wittgenstein’s other formulation, that “meaning is use”. He clearly does not mean that there is no meaning. He means that meaning as use comes before meaning as representation. This focus on order of explanation as an alternative to reducing one thing to another, or denying one in favor of the other, is one of Brandom’s great contributions.

“Rorty sometimes seems to draw the lesson that we should do pragmatics instead of semantics (which he identifies with appeals to the notions of [logical] truth and representation), study use rather than meaning. When talking this way. he is following the later Wittgenstein (who recoils from his semantics-only Tractarian view to a pragmatics-only approach), James, and Dewey, but not Pierce, Sellars, Quine, and Davidson. They should be understood as pursuing pragmatics-first, rather than semantics-first explanatory strategies, but not as trading the traditional neglect of pragmatics by the representationalist semantic tradition for a corresponding dismissal of semantics holus bolus. I think that another genuine strand in Rorty’s thought belongs in this tradition…. [H]ere we see both a subtle interplay and perhaps a residual tension between pragmatist naturalism and an insistence on a Kantian disjunction between norms and causes” (pp. 41-42).

“Rorty inscribes within his Piercean, broadly naturalistic account, a distinction between the social-normative and the nonsocial, so non-normative, merely natural world of vocabulary-less things. The norms that articulate vocabulary use are to be understood functionally, in terms of roles in social practices that include the adoption of normative attitudes. Practitioners adopt such attitudes by taking or treating each other in practice as committed or entitled, responsible or authoritative” (p. 42).

Vocabularies are a characteristic theme of Rorty’s. I take this to resemble my own attitude in examining usages of words — not looking for “the” meaning (as if there could be such a thing), but rather thoughtfully exploring what uses are better or worse, and why.

In contrast to reductionist views, naturalism should be understood in terms broad enough to encompass beings like us who have their being in language and normativity, and thus live mainly in “second nature”.

“In the sort of pragmatics-first order of explanation he recommends, we think of what one is doing in claiming, say, that the frog is on the log, as undertaking a commitment. Doing that is taking up a stance in a normative space, acquiring a distinctive kind of social status. Rorty understands such statuses ultimately in terms of interpersonal practices of justification. In adopting normative stances we make ourselves answerable to each other for doing so. We are liable to be challenged, and obliged to defend the normative statuses we claim. One commitment is treated by community members as providing a reason for another, as providing a justification for it” (pp. 42-43).

Every assertion we make has some kind of ethical consequences.

“The meaning expressed by using some bit of vocabulary is to be understood in terms of the role it plays in these practices of giving and practically assessing reasons: what its application provides reasons for and against, and what provides reasons for and against its application. All there is to confer meaning on our noises is the role they play in our taking up, challenging, and defending the stances taken up by applying them…. Understanding meaning or semantic content in terms of inferential roles read off of justificatory practices is a way of implementing the pragmatics-first order of explanation without giving up on semantics” (p. 43).

Ethics and hermeneutics come before epistemology. This is not to say that a theory of knowledge is impossible, but only that it should not be foundationalist. We never begin a philosophical account of things with certainty, but rather with questions and practices of questioning. The highest kind of certainty we can have is still only a “moral” certainty, not an absolute one.

“Rorty thinks such a pragmatist explanatory strategy can underwrite unobjectionable kinds of truth-talk. We just have to restrict ourselves to properties of truth that can be cashed out in pragmatic terms of what we are doing in taking or treating something as true” (ibid).

I don’t really see this as a restriction. There are ultimately ethical truths of reason and reasoning and emotional reasonableness that can be brought to light by Socratic dialogue, and there is poetic truth. Spiritual truth I take to be one or the other of these, or both. Neither of these is an authoritarian representational Truth with a capital T that I personally claim to know, but never mind how.

“Once the meanings are fixed, it is of course nonsense to think the community can in general make true whatever sentences it likes simply by taking or treating them as true. But our words do not mean what they mean apart from which sentences involving them we actually take to be true” (p. 44).

The Scope of Reflection in Hegel

It now seems to me that reflection turns out to be the driving concept in Hegel’s Logic, and indeed perhaps in Hegel overall. This is fairly amazing, given the prevalence of accounts that do not even mention reflection, or do so only incidentally. True, the ambivalence with which Hegel treats most of his key terms is strongly in evidence here, insofar as he also makes many remarks about the limits of merely “external” reflection. But reflection seems to be a central orienting concept that says many of the same things as Hegelian “mediation” or “dialectic”, says them a bit more clearly, and thus expresses more.

What has particularly captured my interest is the reflection Hegel specifies as “general” or “absolute”. Merely external reflection correlates with the way that he characterizes mere “Consciousness” in the Phenomenology, in which subject and object are mutually exclusive terms, each defined in opposition to the other. But what he calls “general” reflection seems to precisely name a perspective that is at home in what the Phenomenology‘s Preface calls “otherness”, and in which the polarity of subject and object things is replaced by a continuum of relational distinctions. And indirectly, reflection names that otherness itself.

As the last couple of posts have begun to evidence, reflection plays an explicitly central role in the “logic of essence” that Hegel develops in book II of his Logic, which in contrast to the results of the logic of being in book I is said to represent a permanent acquisition. And although the term “reflection” is no longer literally at center stage in book III’s “logic of the concept”, the work done with it in book II is incorporated into the very “concept of the concept” at the beginning of book III.

“[T]he concept is at first to be regarded simply as the third to being and essence, to the immediate and to reflection” (Logic, di Giovanni trans., opening of book III, p. 508, emphasis in original).

He had begun book II by saying essence is the “truth” of being. In just the same way, then, Hegel is saying here that reflection is the “truth” of the immediate.

“Hence the objective logic, which treats of being and essence, constitutes in truth the genetic exposition of the concept…. The dialectical movement of substance through causality and reciprocal affection is thus the immediate genesis of the concept by virtue of which its becoming is displayed. But the meaning of its becoming, like that of all becoming, is that it is the reflection of something which passes over into its ground, and that the at first apparent other into which this something has passed over constitutes the truth of the latter” (p. 509, emphasis in original).

For immediacy, then, reflection is this other that Hegel calls its truth. Immediacy itself is untrue, but it “has” a truth in reflection. Mere being or immediacy by itself is sterile, but reflection makes it fruitful.

I haven’t yet treated Hegel’s discussion of substance and causality within the logic of essence. For now, what I want to draw attention to is his more general point that the logic of essence — which could equally be termed the logic of reflection — already shows, and indeed primarily deals with, the genesis and becoming of the concept. By contrast, what he calls the logic of the concept treats the concept of the concept as already achieved, and focuses on a suitably expansive treatment of its use in judgment and inference.

“The concept is now this absolute unity of being and reflection whereby being-in-and-for-itself only is by being equally reflection or positedness, and positedness only is by being equally in-and-for-itself” (ibid).

Previously, we left simple being, subjects and objects, and existence claims behind, but now being returns, as relatedness and in the content of what we affirm.

For Kant and Fichte, any unqualified reference to being or to what “is” can only be dogmatic. All that we can undogmatically talk about are judgments about what is, and all judgments are subject to questioning about their reasons. (Fichte characteristically speaks of judgments that we affirm as “posited”.)

Hegel regards Kant and Fichte’s effective ban on direct talk about what is as making an extremely important point, but also as overly fastidious. In effect, he wants to suggest that the deeper meaning of “is” coincides with what can reasonably be judged to be the case, and I think Plato and Aristotle would agree.

At the level of what Hegel calls the concept, we have achieved a kind of indifference with respect to talk about being or the immediate. What this means is that what a truly universal community of rational beings would reflectively judge to be the case is constitutive of what we should say “is”.

Perhaps surprisingly, Hegel defers all consideration of normativity and teleology to the logic of the concept in book III, whereas the more explicit discussion of reflection is in the logic of essence in book II. But Hegel’s Logic is ordered as a successive uncovering of presuppositions: in order to successfully claim this apparently simple and straightforward thing, we discover that we must also presuppose that more subtle thing. So the true order of dependency he means to affirm is the opposite of his order of presentation. He also saves his discussion of the “tedious” traditional-logical topics of forms of judgment and syllogisms for book III, but this is with the intent of radically transforming them.

What he really wants to advocate in this last context is a view of judgment and inference — simultaneously very Aristotelian and very nontraditional — as fundamentally reflective and normative, rather than fundamentally formal and quasi-mechanical in nature. The apparent textual separation of reflection from normativity is thus only an appearance. (See also Apperceptive Judgment; Hegel on Reflection; Reflection and Dialectic.)