
Despite being absent in De Magistro, this tripartite structure reappears implicitly in De Doctrina Christiana (426) and De Trinitate (419 or 426), with a much larger role for the Holy Spirit. In De Doctrina, a mature Augustine turns to the problem of the interpretation of the Bible, an issue of paramount importance for his theory of signs. Here we see the Spirit with a key role in the transmission meaning. It is the “implanting of the Holy Spirit,” which “yields the fruit… love of God and neighbor,” and this love is essential to draw the correct meaning from the Scriptures.1 More overtly, it is the “Holy Spirit [who] ministers unto us the aids and consolations [that come from] the Scriptures.”2
Similarly, Augustine, citing Mathew 10:19-20, admonishes those preparing to preach to seek the guidance of the Spirit, that they might understand the will of God.3 Thus, the Spirit has a twin role, both aiding the reader in properly interpreting what they read (a task accomplished solely by Christ in De Magistro), and in guiding the authors of the Scriptures as they infuse the words they set down with meaning. The Spirit helps us interpret the words, while “[Christ] is called the Word of the Father because it is through him that the Father is made known.”4
In this model, the Father is the source of all knowledge, the thing about which all signs ultimately refer, the ground of being; the Son is the Word, the mediating symbol through which all things are known; and the Holy Spirit is the meaning, the interpretant, that which indwells the soul and interprets. Thus, a model based on the Plotinian hypostases, with their necessarily hierarchical nature, gives way to a model where all three parts are equally necessary components for meaning to exist.
Augustine expands this model further in De Trinitate, where he explores how our souls are themselves trinitarian in nature, having been created in the image of God. In Book 11, Augustine describes the process of semiosis using the example of sight. For sight to occur we must have, “the object itself which we see,” “vision or the act of seeing,” and “the attention of the mind.” In Book 8, we see another example that hews even closer to Peirce’s model, where the Trinity is described as a Lover, the Beloved, and the Love between the two. At first glance, this example seems more dyadic than triadic, but it in fact closely parallels Peirce’s triangle of Firstness, Secondness, and Thirdness. Firstness is the ground (the Lover/the Father); Secondness is reference or reaction, (the Beloved/the Son); and the thirdness is “that wonderful operation of hypostatic abstraction5 which… furnishes us the means of turning predicates from being signs that we think or think through, into being subjects thought of.”xi
Augustine’s mature semiotics is able to find a distinct role for all the persons of the Trinity, while at the same time De Trinitate shows how the Trinity maps on to essential elements of experience. This shift allows Augustine to explain how signs convey intelligible meanings in a way that avoids having to rely on a necessarily hierarchical Neoplatonic model, while also arguably making Augustine’s model more compelling by tying it to the nature of experience.
Instead of considering the divine darkness as a final point of rest beyond the Trinity, as Eckhart had done, Ruusbroec identified it with the fertile hypostasis of the Father. The Father is darkness ready to break out in Light, silence about to speak the Word. Having reunited itself with the Word, the soul returns with that Word in the Spirit to the divine darkness. But it does not remain there. For in that point of origin the dynamic cycle recommences: “For in this darkness an incomprehensible light is born and shines forth—this is the Son of God in whom a person becomes able to see and to contemplate eternal life” ( Spiritual Espousals III/1). Ruusbroec’s vision not only leads out of the impasse of a consistently negative theology; it also initiates a spiritual theology of action. The human person is called to partake in the outgoing movement of the Trinity itself and, while sharing the common life of the triune God, to move outward into creation.
If we ask why we should believe that knowledge of our own awakening should give us a key to understanding God, Boehme would answer that God is a conscious being (indeed, the conscious being). But consciousness arises only through opposition. Consciousness is consciousness of something. Furthermore, self-consciousness only arises through the encounter with otherness. It is only through encountering an other that opposes or frustrates me in some fashion that I turn inward and reflect on myself. “Nothing may be revealed to itself without opposition,” Boehme tells us.13 If God is a conscious being, then something that is not God must stand opposed to him. The obvious implication is that God requires creation to be conscious. Further, Boehme’s logic dictates that God could only be self-conscious through his encounter with this other...
It is, in fact, precisely by positing distinction within God that Boehme attempts both to explain God’s self-consciousness, and to uphold the traditional Judeo-Christian doctrine of the transcendence of God. Boehme does very often speak as if God achieves consciousness through creation. And yet equally often he retreats from this, for this position leads to two problems. First, it suggests that prior to creation God is not conscious, which in turn suggests that God, the supreme being, creates under some kind of compulsion – clearly an unacceptable conclusion. In addressing this problem, Boehme walks a fine line, on the one hand positing a dark, unconscious will within God and simultaneously insisting on God’s absolute freedom.
Second, Boehme’s position seems to suggest that creation “completes” or perfects God – another dangerous idea. And this implies, further, that creation is part of the Being of God. In Aurora, Boehme states that “you must elevate your mind in the spirit and consider how the whole of nature ... is the body of God [der Leib Gottes].”14 On the other hand, he tells us elsewhere that “The outer world is not God.... The world is merely a being [Wesen] in which God is manifesting himself.”15 Of course, there is no real contradiction here: Even if the world is God’s body, there is a distinction between the body and the spirit, the animating soul. Nature is God’s body, but the body is not all. In Signatura Rerum (1622), Boehme compares creation to an apple growing on a tree: Obviously, it is not the tree itself, but it is the fruit of the tree.16
And yet questions linger. Isn’t it correct to say that producing the fruit is the telos (end or goal) of the tree, and that with the emergence of the fruit, the tree completes or perfects itself? Yet in the same text Boehme insists that God did not create in order to perfect himself. This leads to a further, deeper question. Boehme makes it clear that nature is an expression of the Being of God, in the sense that the basic principles informing nature are analogous to the aspects of God’s Being. But if nature is an expression of God’s Being, what is God apart from this expression? The unexpressed God would seem to be inchoate, merely potential. In short, incomplete and imperfect. Boehme’s first step in addressing these problems looks typically kabbalistic: He distinguishes between God as he is in himself and God as he appears to us, or God manifest. “God as he is in himself” Boehme calls Ungrund. Literally, this means “Unground” or “Not-ground.” Sometimes it has been translated as “Abyss.” Like the Ein Sof of the kabbalists, Ungrund is completely withoutform or determination of any kind. Grund immediately calls to mind “ground of being,” and this is precisely what we expect God to be. But Boehme’s choice of Ungrund warns us not to predicate even something this indefinite of God.
Indeed, Ungrund is not a being at all. In Mysterium Magnum (1623), Boehme tells us, “In his essence [Wesen] God is not an essence [Wesen].”17 The German Wesen can be translated as “essence” or as “being.” Hence, Boehme may be understood here as saying “God in his essence is not a being” (or, “God in his Being is not a being”). In other words, as he is in himself God is not. In the same text Boehme states, “in the dark nature [within the Ungrund] he is not called God.”18 But how can the supreme being not be a being? How can God not be God? The answer to these riddles is to be found, again, in Mysterium Magnum. Just after telling us that “God in his essence is not a being,” Boehme writes that God as Ungrund is merely “the power or the understanding for being – as an unfathomable, eternal will in which all is contained, but the same all is only one, and desires to reveal itself.”19 Boehme tells us elsewhere that God “hungers after and covets being [Wesen].”20
The only Being that God possesses as Ungrund is becoming: a pure potentiality for becoming a being (i.e., a thing or substance). As Ungrund, God therefore hovers strangely between Being and not-Being. We cannot say, for example, that God as Ungrund “is” in the sense of “existing” in some primitive sense, for “to exist” literally means to stand forth, emerge, become manifest. But God as Ungrund has not done any of that yet. We are faced with what appears to be an unfathomable mystery: Ungrund, as the primal essence of God and the ground/not-ground of all, is and is not. Boehme says of God “in himself,” as Ungrund, “he is nothing and all.”21 While the Ungrund is utterly indeterminate, it contains (potentially) all determinations; it is non-Being, and potentially Being and all beings.
The will to manifest, to become present, can only express itself from a prior condition of concealment or absence. Boehme calls this darkness (Finsternis), whereas the will to manifest is light (Licht). But the darkness is not simply a state of concealment, it is an opposing will or tendency toward hiddenness. There are thus two conflicting wills within God. Boehme also uses the language of “contraction” and “expansion” to describe these wills, and “indrawing” and “outgoing.” The dark will is contraction: God draws into himself, unconscious and refusing manifestation. This is the “negative moment” within God, and it is also obvious that Boehme is describing the psychology of radical selfishness.
What is remarkable here is the idea of negativity within God. For Boehme, God subsumes not just the negative, but absolute negativity: the primal will to close, withdraw, refuse. But, as Pierre Deghaye writes, “Darkness means suffering.”22 God suffers in the dark aspect, as do all beings that are dominated by this quality of selfish, indrawing negativity. But this is a necessary moment in God, and in any being: Beings – of whatever kind – are only individual and substantial by virtue of possessing a “will” to separateness and coherency (i.e., “contraction”). Something is an individual being only in virtue of possessing some aspect, which can change from moment to moment, of hiddenness or absence, out of which it manifests or gives itself. Thus, “closing” or contraction (darkness) is matched by “opening” or expansion (light).
But how does God turn from the darkness to the light? How is this transition made? Through trial by fire. After all, how can there be light without fire? “Fire is the origin of light,” Boehme says.23 This brings us to another aspect of selfish will not touched on earlier: anger. Since Boehme’s methodology is to argue by analogy from human psychology to theology, we must consider the relation of selfishness and anger in an individual human soul. Very often we find that part of the negative psychology of selfishness is a destructive wrath directed at whatever is not the self, at otherness. Indeed, the desire to harm or destroy that which is other simply because it is other is the essence of evil. And, yes, the “absolute negativity” described above as a moment intrinsic to God is, indeed, evil.
Thus, for Boehme, the indrawing, dark will kindles a fire within God, and this fire is God’s wrath or anger (Grimm, Zorn). But just as light emerges from fire, so can love emerge from wrath. In human psychology, this happens when the nihilating wrath that follows the anguish of extreme, solipsistic selfishness essentially exhausts itself. What must occur in God for him to become God, and what can occur in a human soul, is an exhaustion of selfish will, leading to a kind of surrender to the light. The light, again, represents an outgoing will to manifest, to “give oneself.” This surrender is the birth of love (Liebe) within God, but it is also a kind of death.
So far we have discussed two of Boehme’s “three principles,” darkness and light (although as should now be clear, he has multiple ways of describing them). We have seen that these principles conflict with each other, but that this conflict is necessary and ultimately results in a kind of reconciliation. The third principle, in fact, just is the reconciliation of the first two. Deghaye refers to the “perpetual alternation” of light and darkness as itself constituting the third principle, which is also “our universe.”24 Nature as a whole is to be understood as “attunement” or equilibrium of the two opposing principles. But these three principles are also present in every individual being. If Boehme believes that the Being of God involves his expressing himself in the created world, in an other, this is only possible if the other truly isother. As I have said, this is only possible if it is characterized, at the deepest level, by self-will, by the desire to exist for itself. Thus, the dark principle is inherent in the Being of beings; the root of self-will, and the evil that inevitably springs from it, are necessary to existence, and to the self-actualization of God. If God had created all things so that they must turn from darkness to the light, then those things would entirely accord with the light-will of God and would not be truly “other” than him
The Critique constantly maintains that bodies exist in space and time, and maintains that we have immediate non-inferential knowledge of them.
Kant is not a strong phenomenalist, in that his position is that there are objects outside the mind.
Hamann argued that Kant’s entire project labored under a mistaken abstraction, a vain attempt to liberate reason from history, experience, and language. Kant postulated a self-sufficient noumenal realm set apart from everything belonging to the phenomenal realm; one concept generated another, creating arbitrary dualisms: “Receptivity of language and spontaneity of concepts! From this double source of ambiguity, pure reason draws all the elements of its doctrinairism, doubt, and connoisseurship.” Hamann was sarcastic, but also penetrating. He protested that when Kant was finished abstracting, he was actually proud to have nothing but a purely formal transcendental subject, which Hamann called “a windy sough, a magic shadow play, at most.” Hamann countered that Kant’s object, a special faculty called reason, does not exist. What exists are rational ways of thinking and acting in specific languages and cultural contexts. Kant’s Platonism, however, stood in the way of dealing with anything real. This critique was not published until 1800, after Hamann had died; he was sensitive about offending Kant in public. But it had a significant subterranean influence, as Jacobi and Herder mined it for insights.99
But to explain the reality of the external world, one has to establish some kind of dualism between subject and object; otherwise objects are not really independent of our subjectivity. Kant’s rich, twisting, turgid, and conflicted wrestling with this problem yielded what Beiser aptly calls “a synthesis of subjectivism and objectivism in transcendental idealism” and a wide array of competing interpretations of what he said, yielding similar readings about the post-Kantian alternatives that succeeded him…
In both editions Kant described the noumenon as the idea of a thing-in-itself that is not an object of the senses and is not positive in any way. Essentially it signified the thought of something in general, in which one abstracts from everything belonging to sensible intuition. A noumenon is a thing so far as it is not an object of sensible intuition. But what kind of thing is that? How can it signify a true object by Kant’s principles? In the first edition, Kant reasoned that for a noumenon to signify a true object distinct from all phenomena, it is not enough to free one’s thought of all conditions of sensible intuition: “I must likewise have ground for assuming another kind of intuition, different from the sensible, in which such an object may be given. For otherwise my thought, while indeed without contradictions, is none the less empty.” Kant admitted that he could not prove that sensible intuition is the only possible kind of intuition. On the other hand, he also could not prove that another kind of intuition is possible: “Consequently, although our thought can abstract from all sensibility, it is still an open question whether the notion of a noumenon be not a mere form of a concept, and whether, when this separation has been made, any object whatsoever is left.”68
In the second edition he wrested more control over his most elusive concept by eliminating the transcendental object, at least in the most relevant sections. Any suggestion that the noumenon has a positive content or sense must be eliminated, he urged. To apply the categories to objects that are not appearances is to assume that some type of intellectual intuition exists. But sensible intuition is the only type that we know, and the Transcendental Analytic made no sense if the categories extended beyond objects of experience. Kant allowed that perhaps there are intelligible entities to which human sensible intuition has no relation. But since the concepts of understanding are forms corresponding to our sensible intuition, it is pointless to speculate on the subject; there is no knowledge. Kant realized that his critics would say the same thing about the thing-in-itself, but he needed the idea of the noumenon to account for the given manifold and the ground of moral freedom. The idea of a thing-in-itself that is not a thing of the senses is not contradictory, he assured. It is crucially important, wholly negative, and a thing of pure understanding.69
This idea cast a long, ironic shadow over modern theology. Kant conceived his unknowable Ding an sich as a brake on metaphysical speculation in philosophy and theology, which it did for Kantians. Yet his dualism of known and unknown worlds also sparked an explosion of high-flying metaphysical systems claiming that the world exists as the externalization of consciousness.
-Houlgate - The Opening of Hegel's LogicOn the surface Hegel’s charge that Kant simply assumes that understanding is judgment appears to be too hasty. But closer examination of Kant’s position in the Critique of Pure Reason proves Hegel to be right. Indeed, one of Kant’s strongest advocates, Reinhard Brandt, confirms Hegel’s view. In the First Critique, Brandt writes, “it is assumed as obvious that the understanding is a faculty of knowledge through concepts, [and] that concepts can be used to obtain knowledge only through judgments.”8 Hegel is also right to claim that Kant simply takes over the various kinds of judgment with which he is familiar from formal logic and does not derive them from the nature of understanding itself. Indeed, Kant states explicitly that such a derivation is impossible to provide:
...for the peculiarity of our understanding, that it is able to bring about the unity of apperception a priori only by means of the categories and only through precisely this kind and number of them, a further ground may be offered just as little as one can be offered for why we have precisely these and no other functions for judgment or for why space and time are the sole forms of our possible intuition. (CPR 254/159 [B145–6])
All Kant can say, therefore, is that “if we abstract from all content of a judgment . . . , we find (finden) that the function of thinking in that can be brought under four titles” (CPR 206/110 , my emphasis)…
So far I have suggested that what motivates Hegel in the Logic is the desire for necessity. Like Fichte, Hegel wants to find out how basic categories have to be understood, not just how they have in fact been understood. This can only be discovered, he believes, if we demonstrate which categories are inherent in thought as such, and we can only do this if we allow pure thought to determine itself—and so to generate its own determinations—“before our very eyes” (to use Fichte’s expression).
-Houlgate - The Opening of Hegel's LogicFichte maintains that Kant himself “does not derive the presumed laws of the intellect from the very nature of the intellect,” but abstracts these laws from our empirical experience of objects, albeit via a “detour through logic” (which itself abstracts its laws from our experience of objects).16 In Fichte’s view, therefore, Kant may assert that the categories and laws of thought have their source in the spontaneity of the intellect, but—because of the way he proceeds—“he has no way to confirm that the laws of thought he postulates actually are laws of thought and that they are really nothing else but the immanent laws of the intellect.” The only way to confirm this, Fichte tells us, would be to start from the simple premise that the intellect acts—that the intellect is “a kind of doing and absolutely nothing more”—and to show how the laws of thought can be derived from this premise alone.
I guess the point was…better to rob an old word with its altered implications for which a reader might adjust himself, than to manufacture a new one for which he can’t.
For example, taking from the SEP article on Belief the following appropriate words: symbol - hot water - mind - particular fact - entities - representationalism - mass of water - memory - accessed- proposition.
We can then put them in one random order and then grammatically connect them to give...
IE, as long as the terminology is appropriate, it is often the role of the reader to make sense of the article rather than the role of the writer.
Chaos magic teaches that the essence of magic is that perceptions are conditioned by beliefs, and that the world as we perceive it can be changed by deliberately changing those beliefs.
The human mind is so hyper-ready and prepared to find meaning in any way possible, that it will find one in the most obtuse and obscure sources. It will anchor in prior knowledge (pace Vygotsky) and use schema to fit into their own umwelt framework.
whatever they are beyond our cognitions of, and cogitations about, them seems to be obviously beyond the scope of our experience and understanding.
The alternative to thinking there is something "behind" phenomena would be phenomenalism, and to me that cannot explain how it is that we share a common world.
Sure, but just asserting that as so begs the question re: whether Kant is talking nonsense or not. Of course it isn't nonsense if the noumenal is the cause of the phenomenal. However, that's assuming the thing in question is already true. What epistemic grounds can Kant have for the proof of such noumena that don't rely on presuppositions—on dogma? He can't have any empircal support for such things, by his own admission.As an Indirect Realist, having an innate belief in cause and effect, I may not know the cause of an appearance, but I know that there has been a cause.
A noumena is an unknown something that causes an appearance. Therefore, the referent of a noumena is the unknown something that causes such an appearance.
I think of this whole thing as giving the lie to the libertarian (or anarcho-capitalist) worldview that trade and commerce and markets are natural and self-sustaining.
It's all so depressing, men with power who want more, men with money who want more.
Seldom if ever have I stumbled upon someone agreeing and defending Francis Fukuyama.
On this page
I write my last confession
Read it well
When I, at last, am sleeping
It's the story
Of one who turned from hating
The man who only learned to love
When you were in his keeping
Come with me
Where chains will never bind you
All your grief
At last, at last behind you
Lord in Heaven
Look down on him in mercy
Forgive me all my trespasses
And take me to your glory
Take my hand
I'll lead you to salvation
Take my love
For love is everlasting
And remember
The truth that once was spoken
To love another person
Is to see the face of God...
Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light
For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise
They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord
We will walk behind the ploughshare
We will put away the sword
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes!
Jamming:
Now we're jammin' in the name of the Lord.
Holy Mount Zion
Holy Mount Zion
Jah seated in Mount Zion
And rules all creation ya...
Three Little Birds:
...saying praise and thanks to the Lord and it will be all right.
So Much Things to Say:
Well, INI no come to fight flesh and blood
But spiritual wickedness in high and low places
So while they fight you down
Stand firm and give Jah thanks and praises
'Cause I and I no expect to be justified
By the laws of men, by the laws of men
Whole jury found me guilty
But prove, truth shall prove my innocency
Why shouldn’t we treat idealism as any other ontology? At some point we should, no? Maybe we’re convinced by it and grant it special importance, but that’s further down the road — and definitively not simply because it was the ideology of our family.
As to my view that Jesus and the Christian Church are in many ways antithetical, do you find reason to affirm the Jesus and/or his teachings are not in direct opposition to the stringent hierarchy of religious power which was to later become full-fledged Christianity?
Simply stated, Husserl's central argument is that if
the origin of geometry is forgotten, then one forgets the historical nature of such disciplines. But why is that important? It is important because geometry expresses in its most pure form what Husserl calls "the theoretical attitude', which is the stance that the natural sciences take towards their objects.
Husserl's point is that to reactivate knowledge of the origin of geometry is to recall the way in which the theoretical attitude of the sciences belongs to a determinate social and historical context, what Husserl famously calls the "life-world" (Lebenswelt). Husserl's critical and polemical point is that the activity of science has, since Galileo, resulted in what he calls a "mathematization of nature," that overlooks the necessary dependence of science upon the everyday practices of the life- world. There is a gap between knowledge and wisdom, between science and everyday life.
This is the situation that Husserl calls "crisis," which occurs when the theoretical attitude of the sciences comes to define the way in which all entities are viewed. The task of philosophy, in Husserl's sense of the word (i.e. phenomenology), is to engage in a critical and historical reflection upon the origin of tradition that permits an active and reactivating experience of tradition against the pernicious naiveties of our present image of the past.
Matters are not so different in the early Heidegger's conception of Destruktion, the deconstruction of the history of ontology, which is precisely not a way of destroying the past, but rather of seeking the positive tendencies of the tradition and working against what Heidegger labels its "baleful prejudices."
I don't know quite what you mean by 'taking the religious claims seriously?' Are you including their claims of witnessing supernatural events?
I personally think the platonic idea of the existence of such as an ideal chair or an ideal philosophy is BS. Do such proposals still hold value in modern philosophy?
Any bigotry is projection on the readers’ part.
You were taught these stories as a child. Anyone who thinks them through, if they’re strong enough, will just let them go as cultural fairytales — on par with Santa Klaus and caring about the National Football League.
Just that they shouldn’t be treated as special — IF, and this is very important and maybe I wasn’t clear about, you assume Christianity is indeed one religion among others.
You were taught these stories as a child. Anyone who thinks them through, if they’re strong enough, will just let them go as cultural fairytales — on par with Santa Klaus and caring about the National Football League. Others don’t — and that’s fine, but that’s religion and theology, not philosophy. Just as creationism is religion, not science
Ed. Please note that the title was edited, to focus more on the esoteric traditions within Christianity. The esoteric ones may have influenced the exoteric ones, and the interplay is probably important, possibly within the organisational structure. Also, the esoteric traditions focus on inner development, and draw upon ideas from other sources beyond Western philosophy.
As one example I take to be blatant, and not very controversial by comparison to many other possible observations: Whereas what we know about Jesus from various sources (the Gnostic Gospels very much included) doesn’t present Jesus as expressing or engaging in many hypocrisies, I know of no institutionalized religion that has historically been more hypocritical than Christianity. This of itself can substantiate that the principles taught by Jesus are by in large diametrically opposite to the larger sum of principles upheld by Christianity in general.
Christianity didn't just wipe out paganisms, it also wiped out Christianity - forms of it that weren't seen as being in the service of the dominant account
The language of complex systems can be linked to post-Hegelian dialectical strands of philosophy, but are subject to critique from a range of other, more recent approaches in philosophy.
So, Fukuyama's view tries to thread the needle between Kojeve seeing the Desire being addressed through different kinds of ritual and those who frame the matter as a balance of power.
I am more into thinking more about ideas of Christianity outside the mainstream and that which is not included in the Bible.
Further, if the purpose of western intervention was to send a message, who is listening? Independently-minded countries like the BRICS don't buy the narrative of an unprovoked invasion, and they have all refused to side with the US over this issue.

Right. Thanks for the numbers. So in about 17 months we've had nearly 100,000 dead, 6.3 million refugees, $143 billion in damage, wheat and fertiliser production almost causing the starvation of another 10-15 million... and what have we got. Ukraine are nearly half way to wearing down Russian ability to cause more damage.
So after another 100,000 dead and nearly $300 billion in debt they maybe equalise...?
Count Timothy von Icarus Your prose is always a model of clarity, and this piece is very well written, but I wonder if it is too much information (speaking of information!) for a forum post. I don't know if you write on Substack or Medium or any of the long-form prose platforms that are beginning to proliferate, but I suspect a piece of this length and density might be better suited to those media.
I don't know if this allows for the all-important role which Kant assigns to the synthetic a priori. A purely deductive truth, that if a man is a bachelor he must be unmarried, is indeed kind of trite, if not scandalous, but the role of the synthetic a priori is a different matter. Einstein's theory of special relativity could be considered an example. Concepts like time dilation, length contraction, and the equivalence of mass and energy (E=mc²) were not deduced purely from logical analysis but were derived from a combination of theoretical reasoning and empirical evidence. However, they are a priori in the sense that they hold true in all inertial frames of reference and do not require direct empirical verification for their validity. There are countless other examples in science (one classic being Dirac's prediction of anti-matter on the basis of mathematics.)
I don't think the fact that cognitive science can identity such an entity detracts from the all-important role of judgement in the reception of information, nor does it account for the subjective unity of consciousness, which is the lived reality, even if cognitive science can't account for it. As you go on to say:
That information is not only 'in the brain'. I don't know If you're aware of the cognitive scientist and philosopher Alva Noë. In "Out of Our Heads," Noë argues against the view that consciousness is solely a product of the brain's activity. He contends that the traditional approach of trying to understand consciousness by studying neural processes within the brain is insufficient and ultimately misleading. Noë proposes that consciousness is not something that happens exclusively inside the brain but emerges through dynamic interactions between the brain, body, and the external world. As such he is aligned with enactivism or embodied cognition which explores how our perception and experience of the world are shaped by our embodiment and interaction with our surroundings.
primarily due to what I take to be the exceeding ambiguity, and possible equivocations, to what is meant by the term “information”
Every understanding (else here expressed, “meaning”) – this as one example of what we can intend to consciously convey – which we seek to express to others via perceptual means (these most often being visual, auditory, or tactile signs among humans) shall always be understood by others via that body of ready established understandings which each individual other for the most part unconsciously holds in a ready established manner. This will of course apply just as much to all understandings others intend to express to us.
It can thereby be safely inferred that, most of the time, the meaning we are consciously aware of and intend to convey to others via signs will end up in the other’s mind being a hybridization of a) the meaning we hold in mind that we intend to convey and b) the ready established, largely unconscious, body of meaning which the other is endowed with. And, so, in most cases it will not be understood by the other in an identical way to our own conscious understanding.
I have no idea how you got that out of what I wrote or what you quoted. I was making very close to the opposite point, that you need to commit to an interpretative presentation for the history lesson to hook into a larger argument. Reciting only facts leaves out how those facts contribute to the argument and why what they contribute matters (unless that's clarified elsewhere, obviously). It turns reasons into non-sequiturs.
Let's put it another way: suppose you're making some argument and you have in mind a particular interpretation of the 60s that would support your claim; but instead of presenting that version, you present a scrupulously neutral presentation of the 60s at the point where your tendentious interpretation would hook into the larger argument you're making. The reader either gets what you're (not) getting at or they don't.
But what you've done is suppress your reason for referring to the 60s at all by moving to the scrupulously neutral version, and you've done this instead of just not reaching for the 60s in making your argument. You're trying to have your cake and eat it too, and violating Grice's maxims. It's not about whether the point you're making is persuasive or worth considering or 'legitimate' in some sense; it's the roundabout way of (not) making the point that is at issue.
Explaining human behaviour prompts us to reflect on the nature of objectivity, because it raises questions about the form objectivity takes once we go beyond the natural sciences. Consider the case of an anthropologist studying a rain dance. We can safely assume that rain dances could not actually cause it to rain, and that the lack of correlation between the dances and rainfall would be evident to any disinterested observer. Yet the dance is always performed at times of drought. What are we to make of this? Assume that there is evidence that, in times of drought, social strife and uncertainty about the nature of authority increases. Because the dance does not bring success in what the dancers consider to be its aim, we might argue that the reason for the dance should be given in functionalist terms: it secures social cohesion at a time when this is at risk. But there is also a sense in which this explanation is a wholly inappropriate: the dancers perform the rain dance only when they want it to rain, and their reason for performing it is clearly that they believe that it will increase the chance of rain. Are we sacrificing explanatory plausibility in proceeding with a functionalist explanation?
Suppose we are trying to explain the rain dance to someone who is completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon: could we be said to have offered something informative if it did not even mention the intention on the part of the dancers to make it rain?
Yet there is something unsatisfactory about denying any objectivity to the non-functionalist anthropologist’s localized account in this way. To highlight the issue, consider the case of a particularly crude functionalism, where it is simply a matter of imposing a universal grid on a broadly identified class of rituals, without any investigation of particular cases. Chemistry might be taken as a model here: if someone mixes hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide, we know the reaction will produce sodium chloride and water. There is nothing of an individual nature about the reagents, and we do not need to investigate the particular physical reaction to understand what is happening. So too the idea is that variations in rituals are superficial, and their core is always functional: social cohesion is paramount in any society, and rituals are one of the most effective ways of achieving this, especially in a primitive society.
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The claims of functionalism to objectivity rest very centrally on the analogies between the way in which it deals with its subject matter and the way in which the natural sciences deal with their subject matter.
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A second kind of response to the problems raised by functionalism is to abandon the claim that this is the only kind of account that can proceed objectively, and to insist that objectivity might actually require us to adopt the values of the participants. To return to the rain dance example, the argument is that the functionalist account fails to – indeed cannot but fail to – capture the thought that motivates the participants in the dance. One way in which this contrast is sometimes expressed is in terms of the distinction between reasons and causes: giving the reasons someone has for doing something (or interpreting the behaviour) and giving the causes of their behaviour are two different things. The difference is between appropriate interpretation of the behaviour and appropriate explanation of it. The former has to answer to how the actors themselves conceive of what they are doing, whereas the latter does not.
The idea that objectivity in modern science consists in the elimination of arbitrary judgements is a useful move beyond that of objectivity simply consisting in the elimination of prejudice or bias... The problem facing properly trained scientists is not usually a general one of bias or prejudice, but something specific to the kinds of investigations they carry out. [E.g. having to remove artefacts from an electron microscope scan, standardizing a model of the human skeleton to remove individual defects or evidence of aging/past injury, etc.]
In my agential realist account, scientific practices do not reveal what is already there; rather, what is ‘‘disclosed’’ is the effect of the intra-active engagements of our participation with/in and as part of the world’s differential becoming. Which is not to say that humans are the condition of possibility for the existence of phenomena. Phenomena do not require cognizing minds for their existence; on the contrary, ‘‘minds’’ are themselves material phenomena that emerge through specific intra-actions.
That is, quantum indeterminacy is the placeholder for whatever potency we can imagine lying beyond the Planck scale of our Cosmos. Our Cosmos is then fundamentally a dissipative structure – a self-organising entropy flow with emergent spacetime order
Connectionism is much closer to where it's at when considering the way human thought really works. Perhaps it is harder for most people to think in connectionist terms though.
