I also hold that my experience of the world does not have need for most metanarratives; I am a fan of uncertainty. I am also a fan of minimalism and think that people overcook things and want certainty and dominion where knowledge is absent and where they have no expertise — Tom Storm

In the context of exposing your atheism (as I promised earlier in another thread),

So, you're not asserting God or something definite, but something indefinite, as a metaphysical justification?

Does it matter to you how a person defines God? I like the concepts of logos or quantum physics, and the Creator is also good. The Aztec gods are so unfamiliar to me, I have a hard time relating to them. I believe those gods are inacting concepts that have an interesting notion of our relationship with the universe. — Athena

It's not a simple question. Of course, I'm always curious about how exactly the person I'm speaking with calls the transcendental. Most often, it has to do with its origin (but sometimes it's different). To better understand the person I'm talking to, I believe it's important to consider and understand their views on this matter. But for me personally, I've given up on trying to name God. 2,500 years of philosophy haven't been able to do so. The likelihood that I'll be able to is very slim. Therefore, in such matters, I prefer to strive not to comprehend matter (substantia), but to understand the properties of the dynamics of the manifestation of divine design.

What is "it" that happens? — Athena

What is happening, I think, is that the author of the original post is trying to fit life into logic. At this point, he’s drawing a boundary between the Rules of Man and the Laws of Nature — calling the former mutable and the latter immutable.

I must admit, I don’t quite see the scientific novelty or practical applicability of this distinction, though to be fair, there’s no mention of God in his original post.

As for me, I have no firm opinion regarding the metaphysical essence of being. Yet I’ve never met anyone who could explain anything at all without, in some way, appealing to metaphysics or to something transcendent — in the broad sense, to God.

I noticed that the term "Law (of Nature)" is misleading in your otherwise logically sound post. The term itself comes from 17th-century theology and jurisprudence (Descartes, Newton), when the world was seen as a divine code. But nature doesn't prescribe—it occurs. The term "Law (of Nature)" seems like a linguistic artifact. A more accurate expression would be "stable regularities of the physical world" or simply "physical invariants."

This also raises the question: why does our understanding of a so-called law of nature (including mathematics) suddenly constitute that law of nature itself? I see it somewhat differently: our formulas are not a law, but the best approximation to how it happens. And if a new, more precise description is found, we will replace it (this is consistent with Popper).

Let's say this isn't a criticism, but a suggestion for clarification.

You distinguish between logical and empirical necessity, but it seems to me you fail to notice that even your "logical necessity" doesn't exist in a vacuum—it itself presupposes a condition of applicability, that is, the presence of a subject of action and an environment in which that subject is capable of acting.

When you assert that "A must not kill" is a logically necessary conclusion from consistent axioms, you thereby presuppose the very possibility of the existence of living agents with goals, interests, and consciousness. But this is not a logical constant, but an ontological given that can disappear or change.

The "eternal foundation" you propose rests on a premise that itself belongs to the world of becoming, not the world of pure logic. You appeal to the eternity of the conclusion, but fail to note that its axioms can cease to be true.

Even if life as such persists, its strategy can change.
For example, during war, the act of killing ceases to be a violation of the principle of survival—on the contrary, it becomes a condition for it. In this context, the very "necessity" on which your original "ought" was based disappears. Another example: the state has weakened and can't maintain order. Neighbors break into your house and steal your food. Do they still have a "right to life" in you?

Therefore, your theory is not eternal—it is simply temporarily universal, as long as conditions exist in which "action for a purpose" is possible.

You speak of "normative principles" independent of the form of society, but I am saying that the very possibility of a norm depends on the form of existence. And in this sense, everything "eternal" in your model is nothing more than a stable fragment of a changing world.

I don't speak English very well myself and use a translator. I'll try to explain it sentence by sentence.

The world is fluid. I gave an example of change. For example, robots appeared. They replaced human labor. The Constitution guarantees the right to work. Labor has become impossible. What should we do with the Constitution?

You claim: Morality arises from the "necessary." Let's say the "necessary" disappears (as in the case of minority rights). What happens to morality?

I gave this example not to discuss the quality or capabilities of modern robots, but to illustrate one example of the world's fluidity, which continually raises new questions. You spoke of the constitution and its immutability, but how can it be immutable, and CAN it be? Also, in your opening post, you spoke of the emergence of the "ought" from the "necessary." But what if the necessary disappears? Does the "ought" also disappear? You haven't answered my opening question or my follow-up questions.

Okay, so let's say you enshrine the right to work in the constitution. Robots appear and replace humans in every field. The state can no longer guarantee the right to work. Do we change the constitution or get rid of the robots?

As for preventing the erosion of normative perception among the general public, the solution lies in legal education—specifically, in普及 the constitutional reasoning process. — panwei

No, I was talking about something slightly different. If "ought" is derived from "necessary," and the idea of ​​"necessary" changes over time, does what is "ought" also change? Or should "ought" be enshrined in the constitution and predetermined? Then how will evolution occur?

I like the functionalist approach. I also share your idea about the origins of "ought." Essentially, this isn't a new idea—just a new perspective on an old instinct. Modern man, even without a background in philosophy, already lives within this paradigm. He intuitively thinks in terms of cause and effect:

"Don't mess with the electrical panel—it'll kill you."

There's no morality here—there's necessity.

But I have a question for you. Your approach works brilliantly in the context of the formation of society, when any deviation could cost the system its very existence. However, what happens when society becomes overdeveloped?

A hundred years ago, people could afford much less. The risks were higher, the connection between action and consequences more direct. For example, openly declaring one's sexual orientation meant jeopardizing everything: reputation, safety, even one's very existence. Why? Because society then had a clearer sense of its own boundaries, its own supporting structures. Even a single violation was perceived as a crack in the foundation.

Over time, society has strengthened. It has become so resilient that it no longer fears individual deviations. The right to personal choice has become a cult, sometimes to the point of absurdity.

Today, teenagers online hurl words at each other that would once have landed them in court or jail—and they do it playfully.

As a result, the sense of boundaries—that very sense of what is necessary—has become dulled. The individual no longer faces direct punishment for deviant behavior. The functional regulator you wrote about dissolves in excess freedom.

We have Ouroboros, a morality that devours itself.
A system created for survival has succeeded so much that it is now destroying its own foundations.

And here's my question for you:
How do you see this consequence within the framework of your approach?
Can a functional morality explain—or restrain—the self-destruction of a system that has become too successful?

I couldn't ignore this, as I'm personally involved. In our region, proof and evidence are handled by "procedural law." It's typically codified and constitutes a set of norms governing law enforcement. For example, there's "civil law"—a set of substantive norms, rules, imperatives, or discretionary provisions—and "civil procedural law," which primarily regulates the activities of courts and other law enforcement institutions in this area.

In your post, you touch on a key aspect of procedural law—the institution of proof and evidence. Since we're dealing with practical legal philosophy, there's no room for ambiguity in definitions.

So, let's assume there is some "objective truth." It has nothing in common with "truth established by a court," since the court establishes its truth based on properly "obtained information about facts," i.e., evidence.

No piece of evidence has a predetermined weight in court: you can record anything you want in your ledgers a thousand times, but if something is presented that contradicts all those entries, it won't give you an advantage.

It's important to always remember that the law enforcement agency (e.g., the court) does not have the right to independently establish "objective truth," as this would violate the principle of adversarial proceedings.

It's also crucial not to confuse the concepts of "epistemology" (from philosophy) and "establishing circumstances relevant to the case" (e.g., by the court). These are interconnected concepts, and a judge, of course, uses epistemological methods when making a decision or evaluating evidence. But the law clearly states: the court evaluates evidence legally based on its internal convictions (which have no strict criteria).

The law itself is not a reflection of the world order, but rather the consensus of society (or the ruling elite, or an external mentor). The law has nothing to do with justice, the pursuit of happiness, or the achievement of the good. Law is simply a tool (this is actually a very broad topic, and is the subject of "legal philosophy"). Therefore, attempting to understand law enforcement through (civil) philosophy can lead astray.

I learned one very interesting lesson from reading this article.

https://arxiv.org/pdf/2510.13928

I recommend reading the text itself. In short: a neural network was trained on "junk" internet content, resulting in a significant drop in accuracy on logical thinking tasks.

Long-term context understanding became significantly worse.

The number of security risks increased.

An increase in "dark traits" such as psychopathy and narcissism was observed.

It's time to think not about neural networks, but about the internet garbage we consume and where we draw our inspiration.

I can perfectly understand your feelings, especially since my family members live in the United States, where they moved in search of a better life. I worry about them, and although they supported Trump, at the time of his election, I predicted the outcome of his presidency would be either a severe domestic political crisis or an unleashed war (as a means of preventing this crisis and achieving consolidation). Only God knows how this will ultimately end, but I continue to maintain that the next 5-7 years are crucial.

For myself, I have chosen the path of minimal reflection regarding political events, as this allows me to preserve at least some remnants of myself.

The thing is, the world is finite, resources are finite, and to believe that a world of equality and brotherhood throughout the world is possible simultaneously is, in my view, false. There will always be centers that will live at the expense of others, and peripheries without rights, without money, without hope. Perhaps what is happening today is a reconsideration of the current centers that has begun.

What can I do in these processes? I think many of us ask ourselves this question. My answer is that I can generate meaning, re-evaluate the given, criticize and offer new lenses, and do other idle things. :grin:

Our discussion seems to be about 50 years too late. Although, I'm convinced, it must have been a very interesting time, with two diametrically opposed ideologies debating directly and sharply, contrasting themselves with one another. In the end, liberalism prevailed.

And you know, no matter what anyone says, the USSR, in my opinion, lost honorably. It simply admitted its inability to compete and disappeared, fragmenting into separate states. Vanished into oblivion, without taking tens of millions of lives with it.

What happened next is another matter. And what's happening now. Recently, I studied opinions in post-Soviet Russia on this issue. I was intrigued by one of them. I don't want to go into details, but one opinion voiced at the time was: To become a liberal country and end communism, Russia must undergo a revolution. Otherwise, the elites will simply change their colors, and what was already there will continue under a different name. And so it happened: in a number of post-Soviet countries, where there were no major reshuffles or large infusions of money, only the signs changed, while the discourse remained the same. All that remained of the USSR was the worst, and to this was added all the worst of liberalism.

Today, this conflict between collectivism and individualism takes on new colors, although not as acute as before. But in a completely different way – and we see that there are now grounds for criticizing modern liberalism from within Western societies. It seems humanity has become confused. Postmodernism has also mixed in.

These are very interesting times: what's happening now and in the next five to seven years will determine the world order for decades to come. So much is happening that we can't even name it (we're drowning in arguments), let alone develop any solutions.

All that's left is to stock up on popcorn...

You reminded me of the opinion of one amateur philosopher from the 80s:

https://youtu.be/sPLc4hLD3ts?si=JGQqfTqgHXO7XwDR

I'm both impressed and horrified by the fact that for people living in completely different corners of our planet, the problems look the same. There are differences in methodology, approaches, and justifications, but the underlying sense of a shared misfortune is unified. This proves that, at least to me, it's not all just me imagining things.

P.S. When I'm in Semipalatinsk, I'll be sure to send you a couple of photos from the Dostoevsky Museum, where he spent five years in exile and became the "late" Dostoevsky.

No offense taken.

Perhaps you expressed yourself perfectly in context.

The thing is, I've never met anyone who truly doesn't believe in God (what they call transcendence by another word doesn't count), except perhaps philosophers who are capable of transcending these boundaries for a moment, after which they always return.

Most people, even when professing disbelief, often replace God with other "absolute" concepts: science, progress, morality, or personal mission.

A little later, I want to publish a post based on these ideas.

You never cease to amaze and delight me.

Unfortunately, I've met few Russians who understand their culture as well as you do.

Rather, this idea of ​​non-resistance to suffering is not so much understood as experienced and accepted on a sensory level in Dostoevsky’s homeland.

Now to the language of the Declaration itself, it holds that rights are "inalienable" and this indeed suggests that they are clear to all men and women by virtue of reason - they are universals regardless of whatever tradition we encounter. — Colo Millz

You see, these ideas are good as a guarantee of protection against outside encroachment on any of these rights. Which turns out to be a huge fake. They claim you can live, and your life is sacred, but only as long as you live by the rules of respect for this very ideology. As soon as you start thinking or speaking outside this liberal paradigm, you're in big trouble.

The problem of modernity, as I see it, is somewhat different. It's that no one is supposedly encroaching on your freedom from everything, but in this aspiration, you can go so deep that the very need to be disappears. I mean to be someone—a father, a mother, a man, a woman.

And everyone sees this problem, or rather, feels it and names it in their own way, seeking salvation in tradition or reason.

The essence of my idea is that freedom from everything has ultimately turned out to be, perhaps, the stupidest of human creations.

However, there's no reason to worry. The lack of tradition will quickly be replaced by those other guys (with plenty of tradition), as I wrote yesterday – "bearded and with tambourines."

It's paradoxical, isn't it? Maybe the problem lies in anthropology? I'm referring to this greedy expansion of meanings.

I can't speak for everyone, but observing my own behavior, I've noticed that as soon as something is revealed to me, I immediately rush to share it. With loved ones or even on this forum. I think I'm not alone in this; otherwise, neither books nor even language would exist.

So, if we look at the situation using my utopian approach, we'll come back to the same thing.

People have had enough time to become smart and create something great, but apparently, the way we live now (including both the good and the bad, the struggle of ideas and the struggle of meanings) is the smartest possible way.

Your post quoting Hazony got me thinking about the context of his ideas. It seems to me that at the core of the conservative approach, like the progressive one, lies the desire to find a universal truth—some moral or political compass that could serve as a guide for all.

Our era of globalization reinforces this desire: in a world where borders are blurring, it seems logical to seek a single system of values ​​that could unite humanity. However, history shows that such attempts often lead to the expansion of some ideas at the expense of others, often through force, as with colonialism or ideological revolutions, or as continues today through the intervention of some states in others.

What if the problem lies in the question itself? What if the search for a single truth is the wrong goal? Instead of a hierarchical model where truth is imposed from above (be it tradition, as in Hazony, or the rational principles of the Enlightenment), one might propose considering a networked view of society.

In this model, meanings, values, and "truths" are formed locally—in communities, families, or even at the individual level. For example, each individual or group can create their own moral compass, which interacts with but is not subordinated to a single center. This would avoid the trap of universalism, preserving diversity and freedom.

My idea may be utopian and requires further refinement, but it suggests abandoning the construction of "pyramids"—whether traditional or rationalistic—and reconsidering the very approach to the formation of moral and political systems. What do you think about this shift in perspective?

A very interesting topic to ponder.

Basically, some empirical data suggests that our ancestors traditionally had a tail. Let's bring it back?

Traditionalism, rationalism, and other -isms, in my opinion, are always yet another attempt to bring order to the absurd. After all, it's much more comfortable to live with the idea that at the core of everything (the world around us) there's something—a purpose, a meaning, a purpose. When you proclaim communism, you discard traditionalism. Don't you think that nothing will fundamentally change? I'm referring to the replacement of one "belief" with another.

It's also worth noting that in recent years, traditionalism has indeed become very popular worldwide. This includes stuffing oneself into medieval costumes, forced celebration of holidays, ethnomusic, and so on. I see the answer in the human desire to find at least some kind of connection (especially something time-tested) in an era of blurring, deconstruction, and denial of everything. Traditionalists simply see the modern disappearance of all identity as an existential challenge for humanity itself.

Traditionalists may be called fools, but very soon, when our advanced societies enter a gradual decline due to our desire to erode all identity and tradition, we will see others rise up—with beards and tambourines—and rule.

Of course. But I'll be watching closely and waiting for you to slip up. :razz:

I was going to say earlier that for me, gratitude feels like an indebtedness to a mystery for this fragile state of good fortune, which could disappear in a nanosecond. — Tom Storm

Sorry, but I remain skeptical about your calling yourself an atheist.

I never got an answer to any of my questions.

Maimonides wrote that to try and explain the World to Come to a person in a body is like describing color to a person who is blind from birth. Likewise, when Rabbi Harold Kushner was once asked if he believed in the survival of the soul, he replied: “Yes, as a matter of faith, but I do not grasp what it means to be only a soul. For when I think of Harold I think of the voice that you are hearing and the person that I see in the mirror. I am not sure who Harold is without this body.”

it looks unambiguous

It's an interesting discrepancy: Etymologically, Latin "fides" means 'trust', but Slavic "vera" (related to Latin "verus") means 'truth'. — baker

I agree, this is truly interesting. Indeed, in Latin, veritas means truth. It turns out that, as a Slav, I understand both the word and the act itself in a very Western way. I'll definitely look into this, thank you. I wonder how this happened; perhaps it has something to do with the different understandings of the Roman and Constantinople churches? A very astute observation.

It's complex and varied, but rarely as central as it is to Christianity, largely because most of the effort is spent on halacha, or the understanding of the law that governs the day to day — Hanover

Thus, as far as I could tell from the cited articles, there is no mention of the life (or any kind of existence) of a separate soul after death, until the resurrection of the entire body. You must understand that I am unfamiliar with this religion and am literally starting from scratch.

The cited texts mention the soul, but they refer to it as something that lives in and alongside the body, emphasizing the soul's formation only during life (as in the example of the rabbi's answer that one should live longer to fulfill more commandments). It is also mentioned that you will be resurrected as the same person you died. Therefore, any formation outside of life is impossible.

Did I understand correctly?

During my university years, Aristotle's Rhetoric was my go-to book. Discussions about virtues literally remind me of it.

Unfortunately, as I mentioned above, today's society is such that pronouncing something like this publicly will invite ridicule and misunderstanding. And you have to be a fairly accomplished rhetorician to explain these values ​​to a contemporary audience through various techniques, appealing to the listeners' personal values, conveying ideas about "kindness," "honesty," and "caring."

Today, I was having a lunch conversation with a colleague of mine, born in 1995, who completely misunderstood my remarks about proper care for parents or simply human cooperation. The conversation went on for a long time, and eventually, of course, he agreed with me, recalling how he himself suffered from Covid alone in an apartment in a city of millions, with no one to give him water, simply because he chose individualism as a virtue (discourse does its job). And then, he agreed, almost in a whisper, hesitantly, so no one would hear. After all, it seemed rather strange, in his opinion.

It was a light conversation about "involvement," and I noticed how contradictory it fit with his ossified individualism, where the core value and highest good is "success at any cost."

Hence my words about how naive it all seems today. Although, of course, you were talking about something quite different, nonetheless, this experience struck me as a colorful example.

While I find your approach easily refutable (with your permission, I won't), I personally find it very relatable.

At the same time, it seems a bit outdated. It seems very sentimental and naive by today's standards. To me, these are very sound ideas, time-tested, but they're unlikely to interest anyone today. Unfortunately.

Could you please review this work of mine, taking into account your views? I would be incredibly interested. https://thephilosophyforum.com/discussion/16096/the-origins-and-evolution-of-anthropological-concepts-in-christianity

Likewise, is it not a fact that it is—at least all else equal—better for human to be strong rather than weak, agile instead of clumsy, intelligent instead of dim witted, courageous instead of cowardly, knowledgeable rather than ignorant, prudent instead of rash, possessing fortitude instead of being weak of will, healthy instead of sick, etc.? — Count Timothy von Icarus

I can give at least one example where it's not necessarily better for a person to be strong: For example, if your community is taken over by another, the strong are more likely to be killed or sent to the quarry than the weak. Similarly, a clever person will overconfidently leap over a chasm and is more likely to die than a clumsy one. Similarly, a "smart" person, relying on their intellectual superiority, will boldly (trusting their knowledge) rush to do what a fool would hesitate to do. Although the concept of "smart" isn't as simple as it seems—perhaps a smart person doesn't trust their knowledge.

Here I would like to conclude that the more universals there are, the more opinions there are, and the more differences there are. Some will say that prostitution is a good thing (especially considering how many rapes are prevented thanks to prostitution), while others will say it's a bad thing (especially considering how many diseases are transmitted).

In my opinion, the aesthetics of ethics lies in our ability to constantly choose different approaches, change our perspectives, and rethink.

It's funny, but I just criticized the idea of ​​the good and then involuntarily proclaimed a new good, which consists in becoming.

In particular, faith is not a lonely, individualistic venture necessarily, but Judaism sees it as communal. — Hanover

I've been thinking about your words for several days now. Unfortunately, my knowledge of Judaism is very superficial, but the facts you cited were already familiar to me.

It never ceases to amaze me how a religion that grew out of Judaism later became so different from it.

This must be a very interesting topic to study. Can you recommend some literature on Judaism for someone raised in the Christian paradigm (something descriptive and more scholarly)?

Each new approach, whether naturalistic or otherwise, adds another voice to the polyphony of ideas, heightening the sense of "splitness." Authors attempting to construct comprehensive systems or substantiate moral and epistemological principles often find that their efforts merely highlight the pluralism of modern thought. And each new work only exacerbates this.

A paradox of modernity, if you will.

And yet, each individual's aspirations seem immaculate. Each of us (probably) wants to make a creative contribution, resolve contradictions, or add clarity. But what emerges is only more questions (upon closer examination).

And here's another thing. Of course, I don't like all the themes here on the forum. "Too simple," "Too dreary," "Too idealized." And I'm certainly not the only one. My themes may also be disliked or oversimplified. What do we do in that case? We simply pass them by, because they don't concern us. But here's the thing: in this passing by, there's no act of "genuine encounter." The theme flies by like a surfer on a wave. There's no contact, no interaction. It feels as if someone held a fish: all that's left is slime on the hand.

And this is already an idea, and I postulate it: something is born only in the act of encounter. If there's no roughness that leaves a trace, then there's no act itself and nothing at all. Non-existence. Nothing. No immersion, no participation. There's nothing further.

It's like a meteor flying past the earth: it burns out beautifully and vanishes just like that, compared to some meteor that hit the earth, which left a mark, forced development, forced the rebuilding of what had been destroyed. The meteor may have brought misfortune, but it "was." And here's my assertion: Being is born in the act of encounter. I call this characteristic "involvement."

And please, break this.

While it's true that theorizing should be constrained by conjecture, we don't know where the next correct idea in abstraction might arise. Without it, we might still be doing calculus on an abacus. — ucarr

I'd like you to grasp the difference. This wasn't an attack on your theoretical ideas, but rather an attempt to highlight the lack of content (in my opinion) in them.

That is, look, X can be expressed in an infinite number of ways in mathematics. This constitutes a certain aesthetics of equality. Many topics, including my own, are about this. I, too, am guilty of re-expressing X, and I consider this special (after all, I made it up).

However, this is called iteration for the sake of iteration. It has no content, and it certainly doesn't compare to Hegel or Einstein. Transcending limits begins when you postulate X = X + 1! And then you write three hundred pages of justification for it. If these truths of yours contained even something like that, I would think twice. If they also contained justification, I would think even more. But these truths contain nothing. And it's not that I'm perfect myself and am teaching here the right way. It's just that when you keep throwing the same judgments around in circles (like water with a spoon in a bathtub), there's no real breakthrough. Throw in some food coloring, salt, or potatoes—now that's some kind of soup. Justify why you can eat it for breakfast—now that's an idea.

Again, please forgive my bluntness. I don't mean to offend your feelings, but I want substance!

And I expect the same criticism directed at me, and I would be very happy to receive it.

Sorry, but I haven't seen a single non-speculative statement here. So far, it looks like a collection of idealistic assertions adorned with the purple of modernity.

"We are homosexual at an early age" – why is that suddenly true?

"AI, becoming humanoid, will soon support the fluidity of all races and genders" – why is that?

"Do I wear my seatbelt?" – when I'm sleeping, no; when I'm driving, yes; when I'm driving and sleeping, I wear my seatbelt.

I'm also a semi-academic philosopher, but I'm still on my way to becoming one. In my opinion, a child can utter a philosophical formula that rivals a master in its content, but academic philosophy is more about rigorous explanation. I believe some philosophers are so engrossed in this that it's unbearable to read. For example, Heidegger is wonderful, but unbearable to read. His ideas are magnificent, but formulate them in three or four paragraphs and something that makes them "philosophical" evaporates.

For me, philosophizing means living within a philosophical paradigm, constantly asking myself questions, constantly critiquing my own ideas, and constantly consulting with people, the participants of this forum, authors of philosophical works, and even AI.

So the very pursuit of philosophy is philosophy itself, but it requires the use of tools for purity of thought. For myself, I define philosophy as "astonishment before the self-evident."

Truth Defined — ucarr

So you've determined the truth. Great. Now what do you do with all this?

It's like an exercise in the aesthetics of symmetry and transformation that remains at the level of abstract contemplation. You wrap basic arithmetic in a poetic veneer, calling it the "dynamism of identity" and the "emergent property of truth," but what's next?

Mathematics already provides us with tools for describing such patterns, and they don't require such a flowery rethinking. In other words, you take a simple mathematical truth (a + b = c means c - b = a) and inflate it into a metaphysical concept without explaining how this expands our understanding of the world. The approach resembles an attempt to reinvent the wheel, but in a decorative form. Where is the breakthrough beyond what is already known?

It's always like this: as soon as you believe in something, a philosopher appears and crumbles it all to dust.

Faith translates into Russian as "VERA."
And it's a very broad concept. It encompasses both a female name and the feeling and concept of a vast number of Russian philosophers and writers who have attempted to understand this word. There's no consensus on this. As a native speaker of Slavic languages, I think you're probably familiar with all of this.

I myself use this word to describe my sense of aspiration toward the transcendental, which is impossible to comprehend, know, or justify.