Tuesday, 24 February 2015

P is Determinately True or False




The position of what’s sometimes called semantic realism is that every (grammatically-acceptable) statement (or proposition) is bivalent (i.e., it’s determinately true or false); as well as being evidence-transcendent (i.e., it’s true or false independently of our means of establishing its truth-value).

Thus if we take any given p, we can state this:

Proposition is determinately true (or false) regardless of any proof, evidence, experimental data, etc. we may (or may not) have for it.

This immediately elicits two questions:

1) Can a statement (or proposition) be determinately true (or false) regardless of whether we know it to be true (or false)?

2) Can a statement be true (or false) regardless of how we can show it to be true (or false)?

Despite those two questions, even if any given proposition p is determinately true (or false) regardless… so what? That supposedly determinate truth-value doesn’t seem to have any epistemic or metaphysical point. What I mean by that is if we can’t establish a procedure for determining p’s truth-value, then what purpose does the locution “Proposition p is determinately true or false” serve? That realist truth is effectively a “an idle wheel in the mechanism” that doesn’t have a function (to use a phrase from Wittgenstein).

So now let’s put some flesh on this so-far rather abstract problem.

Take the following passage (which is known as “Russell’s teapot”) from the English philosopher Bertrand Russell :

“If I were to suggest that between the Earth and Mars there is a china teapot revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit, nobody would be able to disprove my assertion provided I were careful to add that the teapot is too small to be revealed even by our most powerful telescopes. But if I were to go on to say that, since my assertion cannot be disproved, it is intolerable presumption on the part of human reason to doubt it, I should rightly be thought to be talking nonsense.”

Admittedly, it doesn’t really help matters that Russell gave us a silly (or simply humorous) example of a flying teapot between Earth and Mars. (Any other example/statement can do the same job just as well.) In any case, this is the central proposition in the quote above:

Between Earth and Mars there is a china teapot which is revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit.

Now is that statement determinately true (or false) at this moment in time?

My point here — perhaps unlike Russell’s own central point — isn’t really about the epistemic nature of any possible (or impossible) proof (or demonstration) of the truth or falsehood of that statement. After all, the semantic realist is claiming that proposition p is determinately true (or false) regardless of proof or lesser kinds of demonstration. In other words, his point isn’t about our epistemic means (or lack thereof) of demonstrating a proposition’s truth (or falsehood). And the sceptic’s position isn’t relevant here either in that — to the realist at least — even if a demonstration occurred in the future, proposition p would still be determinately true (or false) at this present moment in time.

Now at present there’s no way of determining the truth (or falsehood) of the statement “There is a teapot between Earth and Mars which is revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit”. Still, according to the realist, the statement is either true or false — determinately and at this moment in time. And any other given p is also determinately true (or false) at this moment in time.

But what if it does indeed matter how we determine any given statement’s truth (or falsehood)?

semantic anti-realist can settle for saying that a proposition (or statement) is truth-apt at this moment in time. However, a proposition can (or could) have its precise truth-value determined in the future and then it will “become” — simply — true. The realist, on the other hand, will counter that by arguing that proposition p is both truth-apt and true at this moment in time. (Later, the mathematician, logician, philosopher, scientist, etc. may come to determine its truth or falsity.)

To take just one often-cited example. What about the famous case of Fermat’s Last Theorem?

This is what the semantic realist will state:

Surely the proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem didn’t (as it were) bring about its truth.

(It was actually proved in 1993 by Andrew Wiles.)

The anti-realist (of which there are many kinds), on the other hand, would have said that Fermat’s Last Theorem had no truth until it was proved in 1993. Thus, to such an anti-realist, truth = proof.

The problem here is a proposition may be determinately true (or false) if it’s about a flying teapot flying around the sun. However, it may not be determinately true (or false) when it comes to an unproven mathematical statement or theorem. These two cases seem very different.

Bivalence Again

Having made all those anti-realist points above, it can still be argued that the rejection of bivalence isn’t actually a genuine rejection. That is, to argue that there’s a third truth-value (which is indeterminate) isn’t actually a rejection of a proposition’s being determinately true or false. What I mean by that is even if the truth-value of proposition p is indeterminate at this moment of time, then that simply tells us about our epistemic situation at this moment in time. In other words, even a realist can accept that any given proposition does indeed have an indeterminate truth-value for us right now. However, such a proposition is still determinately true (or false) right here and right now.



Friday, 20 February 2015

Wittgenstein & Heidegger: Parallel Spiritual Lives (Part Four)


 





Overcoming the Tradition as a Spiritual Act




Anti-Philosophy & Anti-Academia



“…what is the use of studying philosophy if all that it does for you is enable you to talk with some plausibility about some abstruse questions of logic, etc., and if it does not improve your thinking about the important questions of everyday life, if it does no make you more conscientious than any…journalist in the use of DANGEROUS phrases such people use for their own ends.” (Wittgenstein, 1944)



Heidegger too questioned the point of academic philosophy. Wittgenstein’s position, as articulated above, is very close to Heidegger’s own stance against academic philosophy.

Heidegger thought that academic philosophy “has no heart…for radical, revolutionary questioning” (Caputo, 1998). Indeed, although the debates in the departmental seminars can get a little heated at times (especially on trivial points of technical detail), the “institutional discourse is never ultimately disturbed by these debates, however lively [they are]” (Caputo, 1998). In fact, both Heidegger and Wittgenstein thought that “philosophising is a living act (Vollzug), a personal form of life” in which “the philosopher seeks for himself to make things questionable” (1998). It may not have been the case, however, that Wittgenstein thought, like Heidegger, that philosophy “is a normalising” discourse because Wittgenstein’s own radicalism isn't entirely of the same timbre as Heidegger’s (as we have seen in previous sections). That is, Heidegger’s radicalism is ultimately more political – yet still ethical/spiritual - than Wittgenstein’s, whereas Wittgenstein’s radicalism is of a more personal and spiritual bent.

So both Wittgenstein and Heidegger had a “vision of a culture in which philosophy was not a profession, nor art (Rorty, 1976)”.

Wittgenstein, in a letter to the logical positivist Maurice Schlick, once said that



from the bottom of my heart it is all the same to me what professional philosophers of today think; for it is not for them that I am writing” (1932).



Yet, strangely enough, it is, usually, only professional philosophers who think that they have got Wittgenstein right. That is, if professional philosophers accuse each other of “getting Wittgenstein wrong”, then what hope have non-professional persons got of getting him right? A few, though not many, Wittgensteinians may say, however, that non-professional Wittgensteinians have more chance of getting Wittgenstein right. Though this is certainly not the general view amongst, say, analytic Anglo-American philosophers.

Despite all that, Wittgenstein has of course been hugely influential outside the Philosophy Academy in the sky. Films-makers have produced works on him, poets have written poems about him, sociologists, psychologists, linguistics and even religious thinkers have stolen or used his ideas. Now this is strange, at a prima facie level, if we bear in mind the considerable complexity of Wittgenstein’s work – a complexity that also runs alongside considerable profundity. However, if the views articulated in this essay about Wittgenstein’s essential mysticism/spiritualism are correct, then perhaps it's not so strange - after all - that he is well loved outside philosophy departments. It may indeed be Wittgenstein’s unthought or thoughtless esoteric prose-style that appeals to all those people on the outside. (As well as all those people outside all academies.) There must be something of a non-complex or non-intellectual (or even anti-intellectual, as in Heidegger) nature that appeals to all these non-philosophers. Can we really accept the possibility, which some people (say, certain analytic philosophers) may state, that all of these outsiders have got Wittgenstein wrong?



The Solution(s): Metaphilosophy and the Desire to Overcome Philosophy



It is [Heidegger’s What is Metaphysics?] that Carnap chose to attack…But both Heidegger and Carnap were claiming to move beyond metaphysics, and Carnap’s article, for all its aggression, was not the cheap trading in misunderstanding its has sometimes been supposed to be…[Carnap argues that Heidegger] fails to take account of the history of philosophy he is disengaging and with which he is working…” (Marian Hobson, 1998) ¹¹



It's not surprising, to an Anglo-Saxon at least, that most of the great revolutionary and/or metaphilosophical philosophers of the past were either Austrian or German (e.g., Hegel, Marx, Heidegger, Wittgenstein and even the positivist Carnap written about in the above).

It was Hegel, himself a revolutionary metaphilosopher, who implanted into the psyche of the great Austro-German philosophical tradition the imperative that each new generation of philosophers must transcend the generation that had gone before. This was, to Hegel, the “spiritual destiny” of all good German philosophers.

So the philosopher Carnap, whose logical positivism claimed to “overcome metaphysics”, analysed a “metaphysical work” - in order to “overcome metaphysics” - which was itself attempting to overcome metaphysics.

To continue this interplay between Carnap and Heidegger: it's worth noting that Heidegger himself borrowed one of Carnap’s titles for one of his own works. All this shouldn't be too surprising, however: both Heidegger and Carnap were not only against traditional metaphysics: they were also against metaphysics for similar reasons.

For example, both of them were against the metaphysician’s desire to grab hold of morality and turn it into some kind of quasi-science in which the objects of study would be moral pre-existent ideas rather than objects, processes, etc. Heidegger thought that this shouldn't even be attempted. That is, morality and theology should have some kind of autonomy from philosophy. Carnap, on the other hand, thought this couldn't be done (at least during the period referred to here). He thought that the domains of theology and morality were empty and therefore not open to quantification. (Despite what some may call Carnap's “free and easy” attitude towards conceptual schemes or conventions.)

Heidegger also used the term “destruction” (as in the “destruction of metaphysics”). The term itself was borrowed from Martin Luther – his word destructio. (This in fact was Luther’s own tool for cutting through medieval scholastic intellectualism in order to re-find the pure truth and spirit of the New Testament.) And the post-structuralist movement in turn borrowed and then adapted this word to come up with the now famous term “deconstruction”.

Despite what both Heidegger and Wittgenstein (perhaps Derrida later) may have thought about their own destructivist, deconstructionist or therapeutic work, they weren't doing something new - or at least they weren't doing something that was entirely new. Rorty makes this clear in the following passage (which can be taken to be a potted history of meta-philosophy):



Heidegger [and Wittgenstein?] is not the first to have invented a vocabulary whose purpose is to dissolve the problems considered by his predecessors, rather than to propose new solutions to them. Consider Hobbes and Locke on the problems of the scholastics, and Carnap and Ayer on ‘pseudo-problems’. [And consider Socrates retreat from pre-Socratic natural philosophy.] He is not the first to have said that the whole mode of argument used in philosophy up until his day was misguided. Consider Descartes on method, and Hegel on the need for dialectical thinking…In urging new vocabularies for the statement of philosophical issues, or new paradigms of argumentation, a philosopher cannot appeal to antecedent criteria of judgment…Descartes and Hegel may have seemed ‘not real philosophers’ to many of their contemporaries, but they created new problems in place of the old…Many philosophers – practically all those whom we think of as founding movements – saw the entire previous history of philosophy as the working out of a certain set of false assumptions, or conceptual confusions…But only a few of these have suggested that the notion of philosophy itself – a discipline distinct from science, yet not to be confused with art or religion – was one of the results of these false starts.” (Rorty, 1976)



As far as Heidegger is concerned, although the German philosopher thought that metaphysics could only be overcome by “ceasing all overcoming and by leaving metaphysics to itself” (Heidegger), he didn't, in fact, succeed - at least not according to Jacques Derrida. The French philosopher thought that



any attempt to claim an escape from metaphysics necessarily involves the blind appeal to at least one metaphysical concept which compromises the escape the moment it is claimed” (see Bennington, 1997).



That is, according to Derrida himself, “complicity with metaphysics” is unavoidable. And elsewhere, referring directly to Heidegger, Derrida said: “…Heidegger, for example, worked within the inherited concepts of metaphysics.” Then Derrida goes even further by claiming that



Since these concepts are not elements or atoms, and since they are taken from a syntax and a system, every particular borrowing brings along with it the whole of metaphysics.”



So, for example, not only did Heidegger, as it were, inadvertently “borrow” the concept [Being], as Derrida seems to imply, I think that he wanted to and knowingly borrowed such a concept so as to connect himself with the metaphysical tradition he tacitly still admired or respected. This is the tradition that had more or less began with Aristotle and, to take just one example from the late 19th century, was still going strong with Brentano’s thoroughly Aristotelian philosophy.

To turn to Wittgenstein.

Although he was very anti-academic, it mustn't be forgotten that he spent at least twenty years as an academic (as did Heidegger). And throughout Wittgenstein’s life he spent most of his time almost exclusively in the company of other intellectuals (if not always with philosophers). So, perhaps for Wittgenstein, there was “no doing philosophy that does not engage (even if in the mode of denial) with the history…of philosophy” (Bennington, 1998). Though my own take on the thesis that if one assumes a meta-philosophical position, or “deconstructs the philosophical tradition”, or whatever, one is still contaminated, polluted or corrupted by that which one is attempting to overcome.

For example, I don't believe, in a certain sense, that Marx was actually a complete Marxist (as it were). Despite the fact that he “turned Hegel on his head”, it was still Hegel he turned on his head. So rather than saying that Marx was a “Left Hegelian”, why not simply say that he was a Hegelian simpliciter (or an Aristotelian rather than a “Left Aristotelian”)?

Similarly with Nietzsche.

The 19th century German philosopher was utterly shaped and formed by the Christianity he was trying to overcome. So much so that he even wrote a work, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, in the Old-Testament style (as well as other works in the New Testament style).

So it may have been with Wittgenstein.

He profoundly reacted against, for example, Cartesian internalism (even if he had never read Descartes). He therefore, in a sense, turned Descartes on his head and in so doing became a kind of proto-externalist (of the late 20th century variety). Of course, certain Wittgensteinians may say, along with certain Derrideans, that the “binary opposition” (Derrida’s term), externalism/internalism, is false; or it's at the least simply counterproductive in that its use will trap philosophical radicals within the system they are trying to overcome. (Of course, Wittgenstein had read Frege, Russell, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Kant, and many others, despite his protestations to the contrary.) In my view, again, it was Cartesian internalism and individualism that he most rejected. On the other hand, Kant, Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard, Frege and Russell were the philosophers he most accepted.

Wittgenstein’s spiritual path beyond the tradition, like Heidegger’s, wasn't so pure after all. Indeed, if one wants to achieve a state of pure unthought or thoughtlessness, then perhaps reading or writing lots - or even a little (in Wittgenstein’s case) - philosophy is perhaps not the best way to achieve that. (Even Zen unthought or thoughtlessness requires a hell of a lot of normal thought before it can achieve that state: if such a state can ever, in fact, be reached.)

In many cases Wittgenstein thought that the causes of philosophical confusion were philosophical questions themselves. In this sense he is like Heidegger and Derrida who both thought that in order to overcome or deconstruct western philosophy, we mustn't use its tools, confront its problems, or even ask traditional philosophical questions. (Derrida, however, unlike Heidegger, thought that we could never truly escape metaphysics.) In fact, Wittgenstein himself said, of philosophical questions (or at least traditional philosophical questions), that it “makes no sense to ask” (1947) these sort of questions in the first place.

Though it wasn't only Wittgenstein (in the Anglo-American analytic tradition) who had this sort of attitude towards the problems and questions of philosophy. The philosopher G. E. Moore, before Wittgenstein, said that the world itself didn't present him with any problems. (Not problems that made him want to philosophise anyway.) He claimed to have been turned into a philosopher not through a love of philosophy or a sense of metaphysical perplexity or astonishment; but because of the nonsense talked and written about by other philosophers. (Not only was this term “nonsense” often used by Wittgenstein too, it was also a favourite put-down used by all types of 20th century analytic philosophers.)

As Heidegger put it, we “must strive to overcome” these questions if we are to be free from them. We can't be free of them, on the other hand, if we still insist in trying to refute or answer them. (At least this is what Heidegger thought and Wittgenstein might have thought.)

Conclusion

It may be wise to finish with a passage from a philosopher who – sometimes - attempts to walk across the dangerous no-man’s land between Heidegger’s Continental philosophy and Wittgenstein’s Anglo-American analytic philosophy. And because of his precarious position between these two (sometimes) warring factions, it's perhaps not surprising that he neither venerates Wittgenstein nor drags him down.

Here is Richard Rorty on Cavell’s Wittgenstein:



“…[Cavell’s philosophy] helps us realise what Wittgenstein did for us…[He] raised the question of the moral worth of our epistemology courses, of our discipline, of our form of life…Wittgenstein suffered from, and constantly complained about, the company he had to keep in the course of this endeavour…[he] produced writings…a host of commentators will not be able to construe as offering ‘philosophical theories’ or ‘solutions to philosophical problems’.” (Rorty, 1980-81)



In many respects, the analytic philosophers who've claimed Wittgenstein as their own, may be, in many cases, precisely the kind of philosophers, and perhaps people, that Wittgenstein said he “suffered from” and “complained about”.

Heidegger too questioned “the moral worth” of our philosophy courses. And yet the philosopher who's so like Wittgenstein in so many ways is also the philosopher whom many analytic philosophers have traditionally suspected or even despised.

                       ***********************************************************
Notes:

1) The many American academics who've taken on board the Continental tradition, and who also almost entirely sympathise with it, have also taken on board its style/s as well as its philosophical obsessions.

2). I similarly appreciate Rorty’s “demystifications” of the parallel self-conscious obsession with analytic and stylistic purity in Anglo-American analytic philosophy, as well as, at times, its quite obvious pedantry that often hides under the label “analysis”.

3) Or, on the other hand, what Tyler Burge calls the “obscure, evocative, metaphorical, or platitudinous” discussions of “social factors” in philosophy (1979, in his ‘Individualism and the Mental’).

4) The following passage touches on the ‘private language argument’:



“…in the Third Meditation, when Descartes attempts to identify his essence as a subject by feigning a set of impossible conditions. He proposes to close his eyes, shut his ears, suspend his senses, efface from his thoughts all images of corporeal things…But Descartes’ effort to achieve a more familiar acquaintance with himself could only take place through an interior conversation with himself, which implies the use of representation and the exchange of signs – that is to say, the material and thus necessarily metaphorical character of language – at the very moment when he pretends to exclude from his thoughts all images of corporeal things. (page 46, Derrida and Deconstruction, edited by Hugh J. Silverman, 1989)



5) This is despite the fact that I have much stronger leanings towards the Anglo-American analytic tradition than I have towards most of the Continental tradition/s. So it may be interesting to read this comparison between Wittgenstein and Heidegger that occurred within the analytic tradition:



The state of affairs ‘presented’ by the picture or sentence is thus presented by us, by our making a picture. Therefore, a picture or a sentence is the act of presenting a state of affairs…one could believe one was reading Heidegger.” (Stenius, 1963)



6) That is, if a man thinks that it will rain, then he must exist.

7) There's also this passage from Kant’s Critique:



“ …the principles of reason…do not conduct us to any theological truths…we recognise [reason’s] right to assert the existence of a perfect and absolutely necessary being, [but] this can be admitted only from favour, and cannot be regarded as the result of irresistible demonstration.” (Critique of Pure Reason, Transcendental Dialectic)



See also S. Körner:



The Critique of Pure Reason has made room for faith… Although ‘morality leads unavoidably to religion’ an act of faith is required to close the logical gap between morality and the Idea of God…” (pg. 169, Kant, by S. Körner)



  1. What I call the “Protestant strand” of Catholicism (or, at the least, of Catholic theology and philosophy) has a much longer lineage than is commonly thought by many people on the outside of the faith - especially many Protestants. Indeed, as Kierkegaard says in this essay, it can be traced back to St. Paul (see Kierkegaard’s passage near the top of the ‘Religion, Metaphysics and Reason’ section).


9) This is an historical account of Germany’s attitude towards reason and rationalism:



Theory was not the strong point of movements devoted to the inadequacies of reason and rationalism and the superiority of instinct and will. They attracted all kinds of reactionary theorists in countries with an active intellectual life – Germany is an obvious case in point.” (Eric Hobsbawn, in his Age of Extremes, 117)



It's also worth noting Wittgenstein’s anti-Semitism here. Biographically, most of the Wittgenstein family had converted to Christianity by 1838 and Wittgenstein’s grandfather promptly developed a reputation for being an anti-Semite. What of Wittgenstein himself? For example, he once wrote that “the Jew lacks those qualities which distinguish the races that are creative and hence culturally blessed” (1931). He also referred to “the Jews’ secretive and cunning nature”.

10) For example, Michael Dummett and what he sees as Wittgenstein’s destruction of “the grounds” that would be needed in order to construct a “viable theory of meaning”.

11) See also Marian Hobson: “…only a little later than these works of Heidegger, Rudolf Carnap’s logical positivism proclaimed the ‘overcoming of metaphysics’ and famously used examples from Heidegger’s Was ist Metaphysik? (1929) to show that they couldn't be turned into logical-syntactically well formed sentences (Carnap 1932)…Carnap [however] is tolerant of Nietzsche because what he wrote was ‘literature’. (Note 14, page 237, Hobson). It's also worth saying here that Derrida too couldn’t really “overcome metaphysics”, as he admitted. Indeed that was probably partly the case for simple geographical or cultural reasons. That is, he was brought up in the midst of the Austro-German-Franco philosophical tradition he tried to overcome. And because he couldn’t overcome traditional philosophy and still be a philosopher, perhaps that’s partly why he turned almost exclusively to literature and other non-philosophical areas in his later years. Had he been an American or an Englishman, he would have found it so much easier to overcome the tradition. After all, the metaphysical tradition doesn’t actually mean that much to the average Anglo-American. This is why, I think, Rorty is more successful, in certain ways at least, at criticising the tradition, if not overcoming it, than Derrida. He is certainly more so than Heidegger. Though Rorty too has turned to literature and other non-philosophical areas. I think that in this endless parade of one-upmanship, both Derrida and Rorty went too far. The truth of the philosophical tradition is blindingly simple as well as being very unsexy. That is, some parts of the tradition are right and some parts are wrong. Or, conversely, some parts of the backlash against the tradition are right and some parts are wrong. Rorty’s blanket dismissal of, say, analytic philosophy and much of continental philosophy simply doesn’t work in its entirety.




Wittgenstein & Heidegger: Parallel Spiritual Lives (Part Three)


Heidegger and Wittgenstein on Philosophy and Ethics



“…a philosophy which is going to be ethics and metaphysics in one, though they have previously been so falsely separated, like soul and body.” (Schopenhauer, 1813/1988)



Heidegger on Ethico-Ontology




“…he inherited from Hegel…the recognition that an individual life means very little in isolation, that what we are is defined by our place in a community and in history. We make our choices only within a social and historical context, and they have no significance outside such a context. Thus Heidegger, like Hegel, emphasises the historicity of Dasein and the ultimate insignificance of the individual even while he praises individual resolution. Our resolution is not (as in Kierkegaard and Nietzsche) one of going against the crowd but rather of giving it our personal affirmation. Taken as a whole the message of Heidegger’s philosophy is unabashedly conservative.” (Continental Philosophy Since 1750: the Rise and Fall of the Self, 166)



Returning to Heidegger.

Let’s turn away from Heidegger’s attitudes towards science, etc., which we covered earlier, and turn instead towards his positions on philosophy itself.

Heidegger distrusted traditional western philosophy and what he saw as its basically Aristotelian urge to trap things in categories. Essentially, Heidegger’s stance on these issues was ethical, if not actually or overtly religious/spiritual. Derrida neatly expresses Heidegger’s fears about, for example, traditional ontology:



Incapable of respecting the Being and meaning of the other…ontology would be [a] philosophy of violence.” (1967/1978)



Heidegger himself wrote:



If the other could be possessed, seized, and known, it would not be the other. To possess, to know, to grasp are all synonyms of power.” (1978/67)



In the following passage there are further elaborations on the dangers of an all encompassing “instrumental rationality”:



“…Heidegger says that when ‘the spirit is degraded into intelligence, into a tool…the energies of the spiritual process, poetry and art, statesmanship and religion, become subject to conscious cultivation and planning’…” (1926/1962)



The essential ethical or even spiritual pull of such positions can be more clearly seen if one compares such views to the positions of (straight) theological writers and philosophers of religion (or religious philosophers).

For example, Gabriel Marcel (1889-1973) believed that in the “standpoint of objectivity” one must assume the position of a “spectator” rather than a “participator”. It will therefore follow from this that one will also conceive of oneself as external to - and detached from - the object, person or event under scrutiny (1950). Marcel’s position is therefore not unlike Wittgenstein’s anti-Cartesian externalism.

Martin Buber too expresses a quasi-Wittgensteinian attitude (not unlike the one above); though this time within a slightly more epistemological context. (This position too has an ethical dimension that isn't so explicitly or overtly found in Wittgenstein himself.) That is, Buber stressed the importance of the “presentness” and “concreteness” that's clearly apparent when we come across or scrutinise persons or objects (or, in Buber’s ethical sense, the “other”). In this externalist manner, Buber believed that one should stay well clear of the methods and beliefs of the Cartesian epistemological tradition (in which the subject both is - and is required to be - purified from external world excrescences (1990)). That is, the Cartesian epistemic spectator wants to replace the clear “singularity” or particularity of each unique interaction with objects, persons or events (1967). However,



[Reason] cannot replace the smallest perception of something particular and unique with its gigantic structure of general concepts.” (1964, Buber)



Schopenhauer (who is particularly relevant to this essay) also offers us a quasi-ethical take on the problems of ontological scrutiny. He writes:



To intuit, to let the things themselves speak to us…only afterwards to deposit and store this in concepts in order to possess it securely…” (Schopenhauer, 1813/1969)



The ethico-religious dimensions of the passages quoted above can also be contrasted here with Gilbert Ryle’s somewhat ethico-religious take on the Cartesian individualistic [i.e., subjectivist] philosophy of mind and also Cartesian internalist epistemology:



When the [Cartesian] epistemologists’ concept of consciousness first became popular, it [was]…in part a transformed application of the Protestant notion of conscience. The Protestant had to hold that a man could know the moral state of his mind…without the aid of confessors and scholars…” (Ryle, 1949)



That is, just as introspective moral indubitability was needed by the Protestant to keep himself well clear of Catholic (as well as Protestant) scholars and other intellectuals, so too was introspective epistemological indubitability needed by the Cartesian epistemologist to keep himself clear of the Scholastic philosophical tradition and the falsehoods of other people and the external world (amongst other things).

Cartesians, just like good Protestants, were thoroughly autonomous beings.

Looking forward, perhaps 20th century “ontology of the social”, “or social ontology”, has been just a little bit too catholic in its general attitudes. It's therefore no coincidence that both Wittgenstein and Heidegger were brought up in Catholic environments. Though despite the fact, for example, of Heidegger’s semi-negative attitude towards Thomist- Aristotelian ontology, he still embraced, at one time, Catholic Scottist ontology. And it's also worth mentioning here that Wittgenstein had certain strong affinities with Protestantism, which perhaps can be seen in his less political (than Heidegger’s) “social ontology” and also in the philosophical social positions of Wittgenstein that have been and will be commented upon.



Wittgenstein and Heidegger’s Ethico-Ontological Particularism



Heidegger, like Wittgenstein, was what I call a particularist rather than a generalist. And like Wittgenstein in, say, his Philosophical Investigations, Heidegger, say, in his Being and Time, also provided very many particular examples and illustrations (e.g., the often-quoted mundane one about a hammer). Indeed Wittgenstein himself was such a diligent and particular particularist that he might well have hated my term “particularist” - it too is an example of a generalisation (i.e., a generalisation about particularism and, for that matter, generalism). Wittgenstein might have thought that this term (as he thought with all other ’isms and ’ists) would have somehow trapped his thoughts (or unthoughts) in its tiny semantic box.

Wittgenstein once claimed to have never read the arch-generalist Aristotle. Heidegger, on the other hand, did read the Greek philosopher and in considerable detail. And from that deep knowledge of Aristotle he developed a deep distrust of Aristotle’s generalisations and the general Aristotelian “craving for generality” (Wittgenstein’s term). Heidegger saw Aristotle’s categorial obsessions as a desire to “seize…[the] object” (Caputo, 224). That is, Aristotle and other philosophers used categories and concepts to “master…[their] material [and] reduce the individual to an instance of the general” (Caputo, 1998). In so doing, many philosophers (Aristotelian and non-Aristotelian alike) thought that they had succeeded in creating a hierarchical relationship between the “imperfect” and the “perfect” (1998). And, implicitly (or, sometimes, explicitly), it was always the imperfect (or particular) that was subsumed under the perfect (or general).

This is Christopher Norris’s take on Heidegger’s anti-Aristotelian particularism:



Language itself perpetuates the rationalist parcelling-out of experience into categories like ‘subject’ and ‘object’…the mastery of nature by reason. To think one’s way beyond such categories is to ask, with Heidegger, not how things exist, but why they should exist in the first place.” (Norris, 1982/1999)



One can’t help but notice affinities in the above with a famous passage in the Tractatus:



Not how the world is, is the mystical, but that it is.” (1921, 6.44)



Heidegger found a way of thinking that he believed is superior to post-Socratic and Aristotelian thought. He found it in certain pre-Socratics.

For example, he might well have been inspired by Heraclites’s teachings in which processes, rather than discrete things, were the prime ontological category. In fact Heidegger might have even seen Heraclites’s position as going against the very idea of categorisation altogether and not, instead, of mistakenly putting processes at the top of the ontological hierarchy (as was the case with A. N. Whitehead).

Heidegger also thought that the post-Socratics and Aristotle were guilty of supplanting the “poetic thinking” of the earlier Greeks. So whereas Heidegger’s great bugbear was Aristotelian categorisation, perhaps Wittgenstein’s bugbear (as it was with the logical positivists, etc.) was Hegelian generalisation. Actually, Wittgenstein did once say:



Hegel seems to me to be always wanting to say that things which look different are really the same, whereas my interest is in showing that things which look the same are really different.” (1946).



Wittgenstein even criticised Darwin along similar lines. He said that the great biologist’s evolutionary theory “hasn’t the necessary multiplicity” (1946). Freud, on the other hand and according to Wittgenstein, was actually a particularist with delusions of being a generalist (i.e., a scientist!). Wittgenstein thought that Freud “had been seduced by the method of science” (1943) and the “craving for generality”. (Deconstruction also sees itself as defending and stressing “singularities”.)

Heidegger too thought that philosophy had “been in the constant predicament of having to justify its existence before the ‘sciences’”. Philosophy therefore believed, according to Heidegger, that “it [could] do that most effectively by elevating itself to the rank of a science” (Heidegger, trans 1977).

Heidegger wanted to escape from this science-worship or science-envy and “return thinking to its element” (trans 1977). Of course such a return to tribal thought or thoughtlessness, as it were, was, as Heidegger conceded, almost bound to be called “irrationalism” by positivistic philosophers (trans 1977). So almost inevitably Heidegger’s creed was indeed deemed to be a creed of irrationalism by the logical positivists or logical empiricists. (As well as by, it must be added, by the English and American analytics who were themselves under the spell of a – possible? – “verificationist mis-reading” of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus.)



Heidegger and Wittgenstein on Society



“…. the Greek states, in which every individual enjoyed an independent existence but could when the need arose, grow into the whole organism…now made way for an ingenious clockwork, out of the piecing together of innumerable but lifeless parts, a mechanical kind of collective life ensues…[the individual] never develops the harmony of his being…he becomes nothing more than the imprint…of his specialised knowledge.” (Friedrich Schiller)



Heidegger hated science-worship and despaired because of what he thought was the resultant “flight of the gods”. Heidegger essentially looked back to the pre-Socratics for a vision of “Being” that was unencumbered by “instrumental rationality”. He had a lot of admiration for the early Greeks. Indeed the idealisation of the ancient Greeks was by Heidegger’s day a firmly entrenched Austro-German custom. Heidegger himself thought, particularly, that the ancient Greeks didn't experience anxiety in quite the same way that modern Western man experiences anxiety. The early Greeks, therefore, had no big problem with the “meaninglessness of life” (or even the meaninglessness of particular existences). Of course Nietzsche too (another admirer of the Greeks and also a strong influence on Heidegger), for example, had many positive things to say about the ancient Greeks. ⁷

Heidegger believed that “modern man” suffered from anxiety or angst because he had a rootless, nihilistic and technological “understanding of Being”. So, unlike Hegel and, say, 19th century British Victorians, Heidegger saw the history of the west as a gradual decline.

Heidegger also gave his reasons why past eras didn't experience anxiety, nihilism and the sense of meaninglessness in quite the way that 20th century man did.

For example, he thought that the temple, in certain past cultures, provided an axis around which the rest of society revolved. The temple gave them rules and regulations on how to live “good lives”. Later we had the medieval cathedral. This in turn taught the people the concepts of, for example, salvation and damnation. In this period everyone knew their place in the “larger scheme of things” and also knew precisely what they had to do in this earthly life. However, our own culture has become more and more inclined to treat all things as “mere objects”. Also, most of modern man’s moral and social guidelines had been jettisoned. He didn't know how to behave or even what to think. This was indeed a state of “nihilism”, according to Heidegger.

It may well be too easy to take a rather cynical view of Heidegger’s love for past eras:



“…Heidegger’s critique of technology and science...[may] sound merely nostalgic for a shadowy past of natural peasant respect for things and for the surrounding world…” (Marian Hobson, 1998)



Wittgenstein too had a similarly negative view of 20th century existence. He believed that Western culture had lost the cohesiveness that had existed in the past between different “forms of life”. The result of this was that generations of Europeans had suffered from a slow decay: as Heidegger also thought. Indeed Wittgenstein believed that many 20th century western Europeans essentially lived in an world without any culture. That is, it was an age in which everyone had nothing but private ends to work towards.

Wittgenstein, like many of his predecessors (as well as his contemporary Heidegger), blamed all the foregoing on the rise of the scientific-industrial “civilisation”. This was a civilisation within which there was a naïve and superficial belief that technological “progress” would solve our physical and spiritual problems. It was also a civilisation in which people had a somewhat superficial attitude towards philosophical knowledge.

Early Wittgenstein believed that much of his philosophy could be used as a solution to many of these inconsequential forms of thinking and acting.

Much of what Wittgenstein believed might well have been influenced by his reading, in his Tractarian period, of Spengler’s famous The Decline of the West (1918-22). In this once-popular book it is stated that in a strong society and culture there must be an equally strong “public space” in which there would be opportunities for people to share their beliefs and pursuits; as well as to allow less direct interrelationships between social areas as diverse as science, art, religion, social policy and so on. In this Spenglerian society, each individual happily contributed to many areas of communal interaction and organisation.




Thursday, 19 February 2015

Wittgenstein & Heidegger: Parallel Spiritual Lives (Part Two)








Wittgenstein and Heidegger on Religion and Philosophy


Wittgenstein on Religion and Ethics



“…a philosophy which is going to be ethics and metaphysics in one, though they have previously been so falsely separated, like soul and body.” (Schopenhauer, in The World as Will and Representation, 1818/1988)



Despite Wittgenstein’s mysticism and, indeed, his religiosity, he may also be thought to have had an ambivalent, or even a counter-productive (in terms of the cause of religion and perhaps ethics), attitude towards religion and ethics in his later period.

In his Tractatus he attempted to pave a way for religious, well, discourse. Though a little later he said:



I think that it is definitely important to put an end to all the claptrap about ethics – whether intuitive knowledge exists, whether values exist, whether the good is definable” (1929).



So, unlike religious theologians and possibly Christian ethicists, Wittgenstein appears to have believed, at this time (the 1920s and early 30s), that we shouldn't even discuss - not in an intellectual, philosophical or “theoretical” manner anyway - the issues of religion and ethics. Such discussions would pollute and defile these subjects. This attitude, it could be supposed, puts Wittgenstein more in the mystical rather than the religious camp. However, Wittgenstein of course conceded that religious and non-religious ethicists, and straight religious thinkers for that matter, are saying something with their words. That is, when we discover that a sentence “has no means of verification”, it didn't follow, at least for Wittgenstein in the later 1920s and early 1930s, that there is nothing to discover or understand in that sentence. The very process of not finding an (empirical?) verification means that we could still understand something interesting about the sentence. Those people who use such sentences aren't, as the logical positivists argued, indulging in “meaningless metaphysics” or simply talking “nonsense”.

Although this kind of anti-positivism is and always has been to a great extent commonplace and even de rigueur in continental philosophy, it will be interesting to see attitudes that were expressed during Wittgenstein’s own day, and also sometimes in a quasi-Wittgensteinian manner, that weren't actually part of the analytic or Wittgensteinian tradition.

For example, Martin Buber (who's just been mentioned) thought that logical positivism attempted to relegate ethics, religion and poetry to the exclusive realm of human emotion. And within this realm there is, according to the logical positivists, no “true knowledge”. Buber also thought that such an attitude essentially meant that for logical positivists there is no “present reality” until that reality has “become past”. Only then, Buber claimed the positivists believed, could the “nature of reality” be circumscribed by our logical and conceptual tools (1990).

Wittgenstein, in this respect as well, was also articulating a position that had existed previously (or was at least roughly contemporaneous with the Tractatus). Rosenzweig, again, talked in terms of the “truth of the philosophers” and the truth that can indeed be found in other domains. He said that philosophical truth “could only know itself”. However, he was also concerned with truth for someone.

He continued:



[Truth] leads over those [scientific, rational] truths for which a man is willing to pay, on to those that he cannot verify save at the cost of his life…” (1925)



Despite this kind of anti-verificationism, Wittgenstein himself also thought, and this mustn't be forgotten, that if people did talk about, say, “intuitive knowledge”, or “the real existence of values”, or whether or not “the good is definable”, then they had clearly fallen prey to either the philosophical or the scientific language game (or both). The early late period, as it were, Wittgenstein said that



the essence of the good has nothing to do with facts and hence cannot be explained by any proposition”. (Wittgenstein, 1930)



Wittgenstein, unlike Buber and Rosenzweig above (and Heidegger below), believed that philosophy should be silent on matters of religion, spirituality, ethics and aesthetics. He wasn’t, however, very silent on these issues in his private life. Though this may have simply been the case because he talked about them qua non-philosopher, rather than qua philosopher.

Heidegger’s General Religious Attitude



The primary existential structure of Dasein is its Being-in-the-world, its holistic unity that includes not independent objects (as in Husserl’s notion of intentionality) but rather the whole world, ‘the worldhood of the world’. It is a world that cannot be ‘bracketed’, a world that is not so much there ‘for us’ as one from which we cannot distinguish ourselves (Heidegger sometimes writes dramatically of our ‘being thrown’ into the world). The idea of a world known by us which is distinct from the one in which we act…is unintelligible, and another primary structure of Dasein, consequently, is care, a generalised notion of ‘concern’ which refers to the necessity of our engagement in the world.” (Continental Philosophy Since 1750: the Rise and Fall of the Self, Solomon, pg. 162)



Although Heidegger, like Wittgenstein, had a somewhat ambivalent attitude towards religion and theology (at least towards Christianity), he nevertheless used language that resonated with both direct and indirect religiosity, spirituality and mysticism. In Being and Time, 1926, for example, he has this to say about the world at that time:



We have said that the world is darkening…the flight of the gods, the destruction of the earth, the standardization of man, the pre-eminence of the mediocre” (Heidegger, 1959 trans).



It could be said, however, that there are certain non-Christian, or even unchristian, phrases in the passage that I've just quoted.

For example, the “standardization of man” can be seen as more of an existentialist than a Christian utterance on Heidegger’s part. Despite that, I can see the possibility of certain interpretations of that passage that would square with a Christian vision (or at least certain existentialist Christian visions). Also, and in a similar vein, his reference to the “pre-eminence of the mediocre” is even more Nietzschean than it is existentialist. Again, perhaps this too could be seen to square with certain Christian viewpoints (of which, of course, there are possibly enough to encompass any ostensibly non-Christian position). In terms of his reference to the “destruction of the earth”, this parallels Wittgenstein’s own vision, mentioned earlier, of a world made safe for war by science and the flight from God.

Despite the no doubt deep and profound though definitely aggressive controversies that surround Heidegger’s penchant for National Socialism, all I can say is that I find just as many Heideggerian correlations with Nazism than I do with the Christianity I've just mentioned. Indeed, despite Derrida’s (amongst others) protestations and defences, I do see similarities between, say, Heidegger’s “attacks on realism” and Nazism. And there are other connections between Heidegger and Nazism that are worth commenting upon for the simple reason that they all also have a bearing on Heidegger’s religious and mystical beliefs and attitudes.

These shared similarities with Nazism include: an interest in mysticism, an interest in the early medieval period (shared with, amongst others, the English Catholic fascists of the early 20th century), anti-intellectualism (or intellectual anti-intellectualism, as in the case of Heidegger and, well, Joseph Goebels), a distaste for modern civilisation science and technology (which can quite easily go alongside the use of technology, as was the case with the Nazis and is the case with our Islamic fundamentalists), anti-Enlightenment attitudes, “thinking with the blood”, an idealisation of peasant life, an ambivalent attitude towards Catholicism (to less of an extent, towards Protestantism), a connection with Nietzscheanism (positive in the Nazi case, less positive in Heidegger’s), and so on.⁹

It must be said, there were anti-Semitic aspects to Wittgenstein’s personality (despite the fact that he was, of course, Jewish “by blood”). This too bears on the issues of this essay. For example, Wittgenstein had a traditional Austro-German distaste for what had been called “pernicious Jewish theological rationalism”.

So to get back to Heidegger’s stance on religion and theology. It can be said that Heidegger never really escaped from theology (and metaphysics). The philosopher and pragmatist Sydney Hook got it just right when he referred to Being and Time:



“…there is a mystical doctrine of creative emanation at the bottom of Heidegger’s thought…Heidegger is really asking theological questions.” (1930)



Heidegger had a love-hate relationship with metaphysics, religion/theology and philosophy generally. He couldn’t decide whether to be a part of one - or all - of these traditions, or to live apart from one – or all – of them. Indeed perhaps he wanted to be both a part of and apart from these traditions at one and the same time:



“…what Heidegger really wanted to do was to find a way of getting himself out of from under theology while still keeping in touch with what theology…had been about…Like Plato and Plotinus before him, he wanted to get away from the gods and the religion of the times to something ‘behind’ them. So, although in one sense he is indeed still asking theological questions, in another sense he is trying to find better questions that will replace theological (or, as he was later to say, ‘metaphysical’) questions.” (Rorty, 1983)



This love-hate relationship was also expressed, in a way, by Heidegger himself when he wrote that “we are too late for the gods, and too early for Being”.

That is, “we are too late for the gods” because theology and metaphysics itself can no longer have any purchase on the European mind. Though, unfortunately, most of us are also “too early for Being”. That is, too early for Heidegger’s very own “onto-theology” (or “ontic-theology”).

Early Heidegger as Mystic and His Spiritual Dasein



This is a God to whom man can neither pray nor offer sacrifice [i.e., the “God of the philosophers”]. Before the causa sui man cannot fall on his knees in awe, nor can he sing and dance before this God.” (Identität und Differenz, Heidegger, 1957)



Master Eckhart (1260 – c. 1327), who started out as a Dominican monk, is generally regarded as the greatest representative of German mysticism. The mystic had a strong effect on the young Heidegger (along with Duns Scotus). More particularly, it was Eckhart’s concept of not knowing anything (Eckhart, in Erich Fromm, 1976) that initially inspired Heidegger. Eckhart himself once wrote:



“…we say that a man ought to be empty of his own knowledge, as he was when he did not exist…” (1976 trans)



The early Heidegger opposed what he took to be traditional metaphysics with a “meditative” alternative. At times he called this meditative alternative simply “thinking” or “letting be”, a term he adopted from Meister Eckhart. Heidegger also used the German word Gelassenheit. This is a term for thinking “without why”. A way of thinking that placed restraints on “the demands of the will”. According to Heidegger at that time, meditative thinking “lets things” show themselves, rather than be shown or circumscribed by the inquiring mind.

The mystic Angelus Silesius also influenced him at this time. It's Silesius’s “rose” that, according to Heidegger, lives “without reason” or “without why”. (It's interesting to note here that the writings Heidegger composed under the influence of Silesius and Meister Eckhart have often been compared to texts in certain Buddhist traditions.)

Heidegger’s most important concept, or, perhaps I should say, notion (according to Heidegger, it's not a concept), Dasein, has itself a mystical or spiritual dimension. That is, the Being of Dasein is “to be” (zu sein) “there” (da) in the world. In a basic sense, this appears to stress the essentially non-rational or non-intellectual nature of Dasein. That is, to be rather than to think or to do or to have. (We may as well note here that the later Heidegger was also to put the “question of Being” forward as the “spiritualising” part of the National Socialist revolution.) Heidegger believed that his notion of Dasein is not a notion of knowing. Instead Dasein is always in the background each time we know, acquire knowledge and contemplate the world.

Heidegger’s most important notion, or anti-concept, that of Dasein, has been explained and described, by Caputo, in essentially religious terms. Caputo writes: “In a manner strongly reminiscent of Augustinian and Lutheran spirituality, Heidegger describes Dasein…” (Caputo, 1998). Yet, in a strange way, Heidegger’s notion of Dasein is also his most “anthropocentric” (to use a term often applied to the late Wittgenstein) notion. That is, it captured, to use Robert Brandon’s words again, “the ontology of the social”. *

There is no reason to believe that ontological “anthropocentrism” and spiritual or religious Heideggerian “concern” can’t be found within the same philosophical package. Think here of one of Heidegger’s variations on Dasein: “Dasein ist Mitsein” (“To exist is to be together with others”).

Wittgenstein too tried to square his “anthropocentrism” with an essentially religious or mystical attitude. That is, even though there is a strong Hebraic religious element in his work, this element still seeks to return us to the “common world”.

On the other hand, we must also remember the other Wittgenstein. This Wittgenstein tells us that we need to control ourselves, to have a critical attitude towards metaphysics, to indulge in philosophical therapy instead of old-style metaphysics, and to accept that the human world is really the only world.

Back to Heidegger.

The German philosopher was also deeply influenced by the Lutheran religion (despite the fact that he was a Catholic who lived in Catholic Bavaria) and medieval Catholic philosophy (particularly Duns Scotus).

Perhaps it's the case that Heidegger was more religiously literate, at least in terms of the history of Christian philosophy and theology, than Wittgenstein. Indeed Wittgenstein, a one-time denizen of Catholic Vienna, doesn't seem to offer us much of his religious views and knowledge, at least not in any direct sense. This isn't surprising considering his views on the relation between philosophy and religion (as I've already commented upon). He did, however, have quite a lot to say in his private life (as I’ve also said). With Heidegger, on the other hand, his ecclesiastical knowledge is obvious both within and outside his strictly philosophical work.


The New Mysterians Against Late Wittgenstein’s Anthropocentrism



.... there are desires and sentiments prior to reason that it is not appropriate for reason to evaluate...” (Nagel, The Last Word, 1997)



David Pears and Tom Nagel (amongst many others) have accused Wittgenstein of being an “anthropocentric philosopher”. This is very ironic and strange if one considers - even for just a moment - Wittgenstein’s mystical tendencies, his profound distaste for scientific dominance, and, say, his championship of religious language games. It seems, however, that Pears and Nagel have simply never considered the possibility that Wittgenstein might well have quite easily squared his “anthropocentrism” with his religious or mystical beliefs (as Heidegger did).

Perhaps they should also consider the possibility that Wittgenstein might equally have often returned from esoteric theory to mundane practice; and also possibly from heavenly ecstasies to everyday life. Indeed the mystical Eckhart believed that such coming and going between the “heavenly sublime” and the earthly ridiculous is a good example of his own “last and highest parting”.

In Wittgenstein’s case at least, religious belief and critical thought both provided an escape from the masterful objectivism and objectualism that, according to both Wittgenstein and Heidegger, had so dominated the Western philosophical tradition. Wittgenstein’s religious beliefs and his critical thoughts actually gained him freedom by letting him view theory only as an instrumental tool and not as a dogmatic weapon. And yet Wittgenstein’s religious beliefs and critical thought were indeed both, in their own senses, deeply “anthropocentric”.

The fact is that Wittgenstein’s prime motive throughout his philosophical career was religious and ethical. Indeed it might well have been the case that Wittgenstein wanted to bring us back to Jewishness (despite his distaste for “rationalist Jewish theology”) and away from Gnostic intellectualism and metaphysical grandeur. That is, he wanted us also to return to a “common life” in which the practical and the ethical were both of primary importance.

It is even stranger if one reads the following Wittgenstein-like passage from the anti-Wittgensteinian philosopher mentioned and quoted above. That is, Tom Nagel himself writes:



It may be true that some philosophical problems have no solution. I suspect that this is true of the deepest and oldest of them. They show us the limits of our understanding.” (1979)



Elsewhere Nagel wrote that Wittgensteinians must



acknowledge that all thought is an illusion…the Wittgensteinian attack on transcendent thought depends on a position so radical that it also undermines the weaker transcendent pretensions of even the least philosophical of thoughts.” (Nagel, 1986)



Of course people may find it strange that I call the first passage above “Wittgenstein-like”. That is, late Wittgenstein might not have said, it may be argued, that “some philosophical problems have no solution”. He might instead have said that some philosophical problems are in fact non-problems. However, he might have seen them as non-problems precisely because he also saw them as insoluble (perhaps in principle). And, of course, Wittgenstein also, like Nagel, was interested “in the limits of our understanding” (especially, though not exclusively, in the Tractatus).

Despite that, I suspect that these “limits” would be seen by Nagel as limits imposed on us by the a priori nature of the mind and the necessary factors of the non-human world. Wittgenstein, on the other hand, might have accepted limits; though these limits are contingent limits imposed (or not, in fact, imposed, if they are self-created) on us by our linguistic practices and our contingent concepts.

The New Mysterians (including Colin McGinn) would probably not accept Wittgenstein’s view on the human nature of our human limitations; though they may well accept Nagel’s. There are of course many philosophers who are not Mysterians (or even anti-Wittgensteinians); though who nevertheless are deeply troubled by late Wittgenstein’s radical proposals and positions.¹º