Hermeneutical Phenomenology - Part II: A Step Further

As a result of some of your comments, I have been inspired to write a follow up to my previous post. First of all, my conception of human possibility is not nearly as fluffy, optimistic and powerful as it might seem (as you will soon find out). A couple of important clarifications (and/or additions) need to be made to better understand my position.

First, hermeneutical phenomenology and the possibility it allows should not be used as a spring board into the morass of subjectivity. There is an objective component of correlating the external world with one's sensory interpretation of it. In other words, one's possibility as a tanning salon receptionist is not equal to the possibility of Siddhartha Gautama's life as an enlightened exemplar of truth. Through comparisons of this nature, we can agree that there is some objectivity at play. There should always be room for subjective movement within a framework, but there are superior frameworks of possibilities. This goes back to my first real post - if your interpretation of the good is drugs and porn, then your view is simply objectively inferior. We could argue about this, but I've got much more to say in this post so I'll leave it for now.

Second, hermeneutical phenomenology makes no specific claims about control. I spoke of a harmonic relationship of one who has apprehended the true association he/she has with the external world. Understanding this bond as a more egalitarian relationship, does not equate to holding any power over the external world. In fact, the harmony of this relationship is a tumultuous one. Sounds paradoxical, but the very notion of harmony is one of balance, and balance can only come if there are two divergent systems competing with one another. When they are adequately reconciled, harmony is born. The peace of the hermeneutical phenomenologist is found through humility. This humility can only be grasped by a sense of severe irony.

Let's assume that I'm right for a moment about hermeneutical phenomenology. Let's say that it's not just "an interesting idea" but that most of us are deceived about the external, objective world, and that as a matter of fact our own consciousness holds just as much ontological weight as the universe itself. As I described in my previous post, this is a liberating idea. One which makes a copernican shift from an alienated, forsaken view, to one where the human conscious subject is of equal import. I also discussed how this idea leads to a new understanding of one's possibilities for his life. This we could say is a "nugget of hard-earned wisdom." Here is where the irony emerges. Recognizing possibility is only practicable if we understand our limits. Even though our conscious existence holds great weight, our experience proves that we are in control of very little. The irony is that our exuberance from this hard-earned wisdom is dramatically and painfully curbed by that car crash that breaks your ribs and nearly kills you. It is thwarted by a run in with the lowly transient begging for his last meal. It is quashed by a parent's death. But perhaps most painfully, it is repealed by even a casual examination of history. Over 20 million murdered by Stalin, 6 million+ Jews exterminated by Hitler, crusades, murder, rape, we all could go on and on. The irony is here is that man's possibility it seems, results in the most horrific acts imaginable. For the innocent, any sense of possibility is frustrated by this irony (RIP the "secret"). If we want to bring God into this (in the Christian sense), Christ, the very exemplar, the being of perfection, the blameless one, the Savior of the world, was brutally crucified. Perhaps we can find no greater example of irony we than this. Life is a grand irony, and there is nothing any of us can do to change that.

I'll now move to a more optimistic view. All life is suffering. The only reason we feel pleasure is because we take a break from the suffering. When we eat, we alleviate the suffering of hunger. Our very temporal nature is one of perpetual suffering until death. It is ironic that we seek pleasure, a relief from this suffering, as a light at the end of the tunnel, yet death affirms that we'll never fully escape the dark. This of course is a rather morose view on human life, one which we usually ignore (for good reason). Even further, it is one that seems to rarely check out with our own experience. For you sitting here reading this, few of you will think to yourself, "yes, I am suffering quite severely at the moment." My definition of suffering however, is a valid one if we look at the nature of a human being's life as a tension between desires and fate. I bring this up to show that the ultimate possibility for man is death.

While this sounds like a terribly pessimistic view, there are important implications that actually salvage the idea (in my opinion) and shape it as powerful and significant. I'll save a full discussion of time and temporality for another, uhh... time, but we must explore "death as man's ultimate possibility" a bit further. Anything meaningful in our lives comes about because we will die. This is a crucial point about our existence. When we perform an action, it becomes meaningful because tomorrow, we might not be able to perform this action. We embrace this even in the way we reason through day to day activity. When deliberating over two choices, we often put forward the argument, "let's do x because we can do y at any time." If we could do anything at literally any time, there would be no significance to our actions. Temporality then lends two crucial components to our lives, 1) limits our possibilities and 2) gives meaning to our actions.*

Ok enough of the "depressing" stuff. Let me tie this together. It seems that through hermeneutical phenomenology, our consciousness as an ontological entity aligns us with the external world in a significant way. It also seems that through our concern, we interpret things in terms of possibilities for us - this is liberating. Our ability to reflect and make comparisons show that not every possibility is equal. There is plenty of room for movement and individuality, but there is a reflective framework, unique to human beings, that is superior to other frameworks. Once we have embraced this, become liberated and set a path to create ourselves, we are struck with tragedy, with a lack of control, and with a severe sense of irony. This leads to an understanding of human frailty and temporality, from which we gain an understanding of death and become all the more humble for it. This humility and understanding of human, temporal limitation, helps us to understand what is truly significant, and what isn't. From here we construct a new life. We create new values. These values are forged in a fire of interpretation, experience, irony, suffering, humility, temporality and significance. Perhaps this paints a clearer picture of where hermeneutical phenomenology leads. It is in a sense the first step. In my previous post, I laid out the ontology of our consciousness and how it relates to the external world as well as explained how this leads to interpretational possibility driven by concern. Now we can better understand both the limits and the magnitude of possibility within a world of limitation.


*If you are a believer in an afterlife, or eternity, this seems troubling. I consider this a metaphysical discussion, that is interesting, but impossible to resolve. If there is indeed an afterlife and we persist for eternity, I suppose at that point we must be equipped with some sense of infinitude - which, clearly, we currently and critically lack.

Hermeneutical Phenomenology

I went to a philosophy of religion lecture the other night at UCL where an astute atheist philosopher presented some mutual absurdities shared by both humanists and believers alike (concepts such as free will, the self, and to a lesser extent, love). He made the point that although these are logical absurdities, we can and have no choice but to muddle through these concepts because they are fundamental and essential to human beings in society (i.e. we have to believe in them despite their ultimately irrational nature to function). The idea of God can be discarded because it has been proven that society can get along just fine without "God." Point taken. It is a good argument against the necessity of God in society but let's be sure to point out that it is utterly useless as an ontological argument against the existence of God... since it isn't one.

Anyway, the point of this post is actually not related directly to these questions. The issue I want to discuss deals with a question this particular philosopher raised in his presentation which is, "what do we care about?" He was referring to commonly shared values in society such as health, education, etc. Sure these things are important, we do "care" about them. But this question led my mind down a much different path, one that I've gone down before. The idea that we "care" in general requires a more careful examination. We need to look deeper than this because human care or concern is one of the most indispensable and unexamined aspects of our existence.

Before I continue, a clarifying linguistic distinction. I will refer to "care" as "concern" both because I think it is more exegetic than "care" but also to eliminate those fluffy, adorable thoughts the word "care" might induce (we can talk care bears some other time... ... any time). Before we think about concern however, it follows that we should first think about ontology. Philosophers have for years pontificated over the idea of consciousness. Arguments have gone back and forth, but we can all agree that we are in possession of some device that allows us to observe both the external world as well as reflect upon our own thoughts (some are better than others at this... yet we all have this capacity). So what is the nature of this consciousness? Is it possible to conceive of consciousness in and of itself? Take a minute and ponder the idea "consciousness." You getting anything? This experiment is quick to show that "consciousness" as a stand alone concept is quite different than the concept of, say, a chair. What we can say then is that in order to understand consciousness, we must add something to it. In language we say we are "conscious of" something. This sheds light on the nature of consciousness for all consciousness is consciousness OF something (sounds simple, but the implications are crucial). We really cannot detach one from the other. In other words, when you think of consciousness, you think of being conscious of the physical world. This is what experience is - the synthesis of the knower (consciousness) and the known (objects).

The implications of the idea that "all consciousness is consciousness of" are quite vast. Suddenly, the distinction between a world of objects external to us seems at best irrelevant and at worst impossible. I'm not trying to say that there is no such thing as an external world that exists without a mind to perceive it - clearly this is possible. To illustrate what I'm after, try this thought experiment with me. Think of a world with no minds to perceive it. Fine, we can do that, I've got a picture in my mind of a barren world with no "perceivers." So there you have it, it is possible that the external world exists independent of any human perceiver right? I say, not quite so fast. Ask yourself the question, "how is it possible that I can conceive of such a world?" The answer is obviously because you have a conscious, perceiving mind. Remove this mind, and you cannot even conceive of such a world. In other words, consciousness is an absolutely primordial, and required prerequisite to even thinking about a world void of perceivers. Does this idea get you worked up? Keep thinking about it for a moment. Our relationship with the external world is inextricably connected through consciousness. Take away the external world and you have nothing. Likewise, take away consciousness and you also have nothing. They cannot be separated.

Why is this so important? Think about your ordinary life. Think about the way you view the world. My guess is that you have always just assumed that there is an external world out there that is completely detached from you. We can (sort of unfairly) blame science (and Descartes) for this dualistic view. We think that since we have conducted all of these scientific experiments that have proven certain laws about the universe that therefore it exists independent of us. But I'm not so sure that science has really made any claims specifically about this. Let me reiterate my point, how is any science even possible in the first place? It is only because of human consciousness. Human consciousness is primordial to any science whatsoever. Take it away, and there is no science, there is no external world. So for you in your ordinary life, the question shouldn't be, "is there an external world?" The question should be, "what is my relationship to whatever is out there?" If you take my proposal, your paradigm should shift from an alienating universe of cold hard absolutes to that of your own consciousness as the primary existential- a perceiving human subject, the interpreter of that which is before you. In this light, you are in perfect harmony with the external world - I see this as tremendously liberating.

This brings me back to the idea of concern. A necessary byproduct of consciousness (if we can call it that) is concern. If "all consciousness is consciousness of" is the first rule of primary existence, then concern would have to be the second. Out of human concern, we seek knowledge, life, and existence. There is nothing that we do not show concern about in some way. Think about it for a second, any activity, even sitting and doing nothing is a result of a form of concern. Human existence by definition is not static, and what motivates our actions is concern. In order to survive, we have to interact with the world. This requires interpretation. Another way of phrasing this interpretation is that we "humanize" the world. We show concern for objects as they relate to us as human beings. We interpret a stick in the woods in terms of its possibilities (i.e. as a tool, a weapon, an walking aid, a tent pole, a fishing rod, and so on). We are concerned about the way the world relates to us therefore we are concerned about our relationship to the world. From this structure of concern, we are motivated to interpret the world and relate it to ourselves in terms of possibilities.

Given what I've said, I find it interesting that so many of us proceed to give up our own possibilities for our lives. Somehow we are quick to hold to our safe little closed worlds and we forget about the immense number of possibilities we have as human beings. If you agree with anything in what I've said, then this amnesia is a negation of what fundamentally makes us human. Within these possibilities, we find a way to create a meaningful life. If I have to blame someone for the way the modern world misunderstands this, I would have to point to those who have made us believe that the external world and the consciousness are somehow separated (Descartes and inadvertently, modern science). From this very small distinction, we get dramatic results. I think it is of paramount importance to shift the paradigm to the consciousness of the human subject - for in this harmony, a human being is liberated to construct his or her own meaningful life from a near infinite number of possibilities. Thoughts? Comments?



Many of my ideas in regards to this subject have been shaped by Heidegger and to a lesser extent Kant. If this is an interesting idea, check out Heidegger's Being and Time, or Kant's Critique of Pure Reason - be warned however, they are not exactly "page turners" - Kant in fact was critisized by philosophers for being too didactic and boring - by philosophers!!

Let there be light... or don't

Agnes Repplier once said, "humor brings insight and tolerance.  Irony brings a deeper and less friendly understanding."  Well my friends (try not to hear John McCain's voice when reading that preamble to this sentence... the MF'er), I have been struck with this very sense of "deeper and less friendly understanding" tonight.  Irony has come back to haunt me as it is wont to do. As most of you know, I somewhat routinely complain about American complacency that in many cases is attributable to our worship of convenience over quality.  Tonight, as irony has it, I could go for a little more convenience.  If the serious tone of my previous web log musings has led you to believe I have been wronged with the injustice of a thousand starving children, then you have not been led astray - this is indeed a somber issue at hand.  

Let's say your lightbulb in your desk lamp burns out.  And let's say the desk lamp looks like this:

Pretty straight forward right?  I went to the store to pick up my provisions for the day and was happy to find a small but sufficient section for light bulbs.  I was fastidious to select a bulb of no more than 60 watts as indicated on the inner rim of the metal lamp shade (as seen in photo). So far so good.  Upon my return (and after an unexpectedly physical bout trying to extricate the now obsolete bulb from the lamp), I opened the bulb box and extracted the new glass globe, anxious to restore my desk lamp to it's former illuminative glory.  We're all familiar with the process so I'll cut to the chase.  The new bulb would not allow itself to be screwed into the lamp.  No matter how much I swore, or how much I begged, the bulb refused to mate with the lamp.  Dismayed, I sat down to reassess the situation.  I took a closer look at the discarded light bulb, and suddenly the light bulb in my mind switched on

found the following:

Note the smooth metal circumference around the base interrupted by the pins on either side.

The problem of course is that the new bulb looks like this:

Note the corrugated base that in no way resembles the base of previously observed, burned out bulb.

Dear England, PLEASE MAKE SOMETHING EASY ON ME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!*

*If this seems like a disproportionate response to a seemingly trivial situation, then you haven't heard me complain about any and every obstacle I've encountered in trying to get things done since I've arrived in this city.  For details, feel free to email me.  

Here I'm allowed, everything all of the time

After a rather verbose blog entry, I figure it would be nice to have something to look at on this fledgling blog of mine.  It's probably safe to say that Radiohead has played a significant role in my life.  I'm sure at some point you will see some sort of elaborate discourse about their music on this site.  Today however, I just wanted to share with you two of my all time favorite Radiohead performances.  These took place on Saturday Night Live around the same time Kid A was released (around 2000), the kind of venue where great performances rarely take place.  The two videos are The National Anthem and Idioteque, two rather avant-garde tracks from a truly mind blowing album.  As you watch, you kind of get the impression that people in the audience who were unfamiliar with Radiohead were thinking, "have these guys gone absolutely mad?"  Given the nature of Kid A, people familiar with the band were probably thinking the same thing.  Anyway, if you are a Radiohead fan, and you don't get the chills watching these performances, then you are not human.  If you haven't seen a video of Radiohead performing before, well let me warn you that Thom Yorke sort of gets into his music a little bit.  Notice Johnny Greenwood playing the ondes martenot on The National Anthem. One of the first electronic instruments ever made.  It is all very impressive stuff.  

One more thing before you watch (unless you've already done that).  A bit of Radiohead trivia, since you'll be watching Idioteque.  The band used a sample from a piece called Mild und Leise, composed by Paul Lansky.  The recording was done in 1973 and was the first piece of music ever composed by a computer.  If you know a little bit about Radiohead's music, this is really quite significant.  You should be able to find the sample used on Idioteque in the first minute of the piece.  Have a quick listen, it is pretty awesome.  

Enjoy the videos.  The National Anthem gets cut a bit short at the end.  My apologies.

What's this dying for?

I officially hate philosophy.  And while those of you who know me think about that for a minute, let me take this moment to recommend the new album from TV On the Radio entitled, Dear Science.  Please don't read this post until you've purchased and listened to this album.  ...  ...  See what I mean?  Ok moving on.

Now you might say, "wait a minute Mark, you LOVE philosophy."  It's hard to dispute that I've led many of you to believe this is the case (probably the most incriminating evidence against me is the fact that 1) I have held numerous discussions of a philosophical nature with many of you at some point, 2) I generally take an interest in those aspects of art, literature, culture, film, music, religion etc. that raise thought provoking queries into the nature of man and his relationship to a meaningful life (both objectively if that's possible and subjectively), 3) I am very much against living an unexamined life, 4) I don't tolerate stupidity well (though I think I have gotten a little better... sometimes), 5) (and these last three premises if we can call them that are perhaps the most empirically incriminating) I majored in philosophy at the U, during which time I 6) presented a paper at the Intermountain West Philosophy Conference before 7) moving my entire life to London to get a master's degree in philosophy from an elite school... this costs a lot of money, I don't have this money, etc. etc.), so when you say, "wait a minute Mark, you LOVE philosophy," I guess I sorta kinda have to concede that your inductive reasoning is not altogether invalid.  

I feel that my disdainful declaration is a bit misleading, so let me explain more clearly what I mean.  Philosophy seems to have lost its way.  Those who pursue it have become increasingly interested in their own "brilliant" argumentation while truth has been left out to dry.  They scoff at the philosophical giants for their apparent lack of reason and argument, while toasting one another to their own perspicacity.  I can hardly get through a course without a cacophony of  "tinks" coming from the champagne glasses.  If they can argue a position to the point where their logic becomes "unassailable," they undoubtedly will.  And for the sake of what?  

For the true philosopher observing this, the whole pursuit seems pointless.  Suppose you were in class discussing the concept of happiness as it pertains to pursuing a conception of "the good life."  During this discussion, it seems prudent to come to some definition of happiness.  Now suppose someone brings up the point that the person leading the happy life is the one who is in a perpetual psychological state of feeling happy.  From this, our hero asserts that any activity that enables this happy psychological state inside of him, is happiness.  To illustrate, suppose someone derives happiness from snorting cocaine, drinking alcohol and watching pornography.  Now let's suppose this person can sustain this behavior leading to his happiness with no negative effects for the duration of his life.  Who is to say that this person isn't happy, and hasn't lived out his conception of "the good life?"  (tink... tink... nod, smile)  The class ends.  "So brave soldiers of the mind, what have we learned about happiness?"  Answer, "why the hell did I take this class?"  It appears as though the morass of unassailable subjective relativity, once again appears to be supreme truth.  Welp, guess I'll pack up my things, I now know how to achieve the good.  Thanks philosophy.

I'm not saying that arguing for the subjective is always wrong, in fact, I am a strong proponent of subjectivity in most cases within reason, but if philosophy leads us to the conclusion that drugs, porn, and alcoholism lead to a happy life, then we're off the rails.  This is but one example of where philosophy in the academic arena has gone wrong (I've chosen an almost hyperbolic example to prove a point... in other examples, it's much more difficult to demarcate the ridiculous from the fruitful - I won't look at these as I've made my point).  So what is it philosophers should be doing?  The word "philosopher" of course means "lover of wisdom."  Would you call the argument outlined above "wisdom?"  We philosophers have failed.  We have neglected a pursuit for Truth, favoring logic and argument instead.  Truth is bigger than this, and we should be ashamed that our pride has blinded us.  As Socrates taught, the first step towards becoming a philosopher is to recognize one's own ignorance.  These "philosophers" seem only to recognize their own brilliance.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we should throw philosophical argument and reasoning out the window.  These are crucially important tools.  They help us carve a path through unfounded opinions, and are allergic to mindless dogma and rhetoric.  But Truth is not a syllogism.  It is not formulaic.  The format of "Premise 1 + Premise 2 + Premise 3 = Conclusion," may give us validity of an instance of truth as it pertains to the structure of language.  Truth however, is something of a different animal.  In our example of happiness, it is difficult to refute that, given the premises, the drugaholic porn freak has achieved it.  There comes a point where we must get away from this way of thinking.  The virtues Aristotle taught don't apply just to some guy who happened to value them.  They are relevant to a deeper happiness for every person in an objective sense.  (As an aside for you etymologists out there (Tom) the Greek word eudaimonia Aristotle used, does not translate into English very well.  It is less, "happiness" and more, "joy and satisfaction in fulfilling your ultimate potential as a human being.")  While it may be difficult to prove objectivity deductively, we have justified reasons to believe (justified true belief?) in some objectivity.  Aristotle's means for achieving eudiamonia came through the virtues.  Rather than understand Aristotle's practical wisdom, the modern day philosopher finds something logically inconsistent and then proceeds to throw his entire book out the window.  Thus, they hide in language and reasoning, and it makes them feel better about themselves.  Aristotle had something to say about these people (from the Nicomachean Ethics), "they take refuge in argument, thinking that they are being philosophers and that this is the way to be good.  They are rather like patients who listen carefully to their doctors, but do not do what they are told.  Just as such treatment will not make patients healthy in body, so being this kind of philosopher will not make the masses healthy in soul."  

So if truth isn't what the logical positivists believed it to be (although I think they were correct in some ways), then what is truth?  I side with Heidegger and the greeks about the notion of truth as alethia.  This word means that truth is revelation, not in the prophetic sense, but in the sense of unconcealment.  We uncover truth, or rather, truth makes itself known.  Think about it, truth is not simply a correlation of statements, but it is a process of revealing.  Our very lives are processes of change.  We live out of the past, through the present and into the future.  We are not static as human beings, we interact with the world.  We work, we plant, we build, we grow, we reflect, we interpret, and make judgments about the world.  In this process, truths are revealed to us.  Many times, we don't have a way to explain how these truths are uncovered.  We can't say how it is, we can only say that it is.  This process isn't reserved for the philosopher who is versed in deductive logic - for truth is something to each of us.  The process is almost so basic that we can't even talk about it - yet it is of fundamental and crucial importance.  

This leads me to aesthetic experiences.  Through aesthetics, truths are revealed.  Kant said that an aesthetic experience is the only place where a person truly ceases from all desire.  Truths are revealed through these experiences.  We can't say how, but we can say that something has been communicated.  Try to describe your aesthetic experience to someone else.  I think you'll find it extremely difficult.  Again, we don't know what it is, we only know that it is.  Could this truth be ripped apart by throwing it to the wolves of philosophy?  Absolutely.  Yet it isn't some abstraction or correlation of sentences and premises... it is relevant.  In this sense, it seems that there is some objectivity at work.  Something from without being communicated within.   

So do I hate philosophy?  I think I've made it clear that yes I do, and no I don't.  Am I particularly enjoying my academic experience in London thus far?  I would say, no not really.  I can see why Kierkegaard scoffed at the stuffy academic philosopher who revels in abstraction and is devoid of passion.  However, I am coming to conclusions about my life and the role philosophy will play in it.  

I Am Born Again

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

--Keeping Things Whole by Mark Strand

My name is Mark Pingree, I moved to London last week. This is my blog. Welcome.