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VERDICTS
Heidegger’s Map
Daniel Bonevac
# Springer Science+Business Media New York 2014
Richard Rorty listsMartin Heidegger among the three greatest philosophers of
the twentieth century, along with Ludwig Wittgenstein and John Dewey.1 Even
those who would propose a very different list would agree that Heidegger has
been among the most influential philosophers of the past century. His thought
underlies later developments in Continental philosophy, from existentialism to
postmodernism, and has influenced analytic philosophers such as Wilfrid
Sellars, Rorty, and Robert Brandom. It has had an even more sweeping impact
on developments in other parts of the humanities, which have abandoned
traditional humanistic pursuits in favor of “theory” and embraced a kind of
anti-intellectualism dressed in a garb of elaborate verbiage ultimately
inspired by and derived from Heidegger. Finally, it has shaped our political
discourse and culture, altering our conceptions of ideologies throughout the
political spectrum.
I will focus here on some concepts central to Being and Time (1927),
Heidegger’s greatest and most influential work.2 They constitute important
Acad. Quest.DOI 10.1007/s12129-014-9417-4
1Richard Rorty, Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1980).2Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit. Jahrbuch für Phänomenologie und phänomenologische Forschung,VIII (Halle, Germany: Max Niemeyer, 1927). Quotations are taken from Being and Time: A Translation ofSein und Zeit, trans. Joan Stambaugh (Tübingen, Germany: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1953; Albany: StateUniversity of New York Press, 1996). All further references are cited parenthetically within the text; pagereferences are to the German edition.
Daniel Bonevac is professor of philosophy at the University of Texas at Austin, Austin, TX 78713-8926;[email protected]. His latest books are Ideas of the Twentieth Century (University of Texas Press,2014) and Introduction to World Philosophy, co-authored with Stephen Phillips (Oxford University Press,2009).
and original contributions to philosophy. They can lead to a more profound
understanding of humanity and the world. They can also lead to intellectual
and political disaster, as Heidegger’s own involvement with National
Socialism illustrates. But it would be too quick to dismiss Heidegger as a
result of this, not least because it would make so much contemporary thought
unintelligible. As Heidegger scholar Charles Guignon writes, “[W]hile there
is no way to play down the moral worries raised by Heidegger’s thought,
there is also no way to deny that this at times mystifying man from the
backwoods of Germany more than once redrew the philosophical map of the
twentieth century, laying out lines of questioning for generations to come.”3 I
will argue that Heidegger’s map is revealing, but that some follow it to
unfortunate destinations.
Dasein4
Heidegger begins Being and Time by raising the question of
being—specifically, of the meaning of being. He sees Plato and the
pre-Socratic philosophers as having raised a fundamental question that the
entire Western philosophical tradition from Aristotle through Hegel
proceeded to misconstrue or, more precisely, ignore. What is there? That is
the most fundamental ontological question, according to that Aristotelian
tradition. Aristotle’s answer, substance, or really, substances, turns meta-
physics into a discipline dedicated to outlining the categories of things that
are, or, in Russell’s famous phrase, cataloguing the furniture of the universe.5
That answer suggests that we look to the sciences and their assertions about
existence. From Heidegger’s perspective, however, this project, which he
terms ontic, or a matter of vulgar ontology, neglects the question of what
“being” means, of what it is to be, of what it is to deserve designation as
being among the furniture of the universe. He realizes that many are bound to
think his project hopeless, on the ground that the meaning of “being” is
self-evident, primitive, obvious, or impossible to articulate. After all,
3Charles B. Guignon, introduction to The Cambridge Companion to Heidegger, ed. Charles B. Guignon(Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 33.4I have removed the hyphen from “Da-sein” to conform to the usual practice.5Bertrand Russell, “The Philosophy of Logical Atomism,” in Logic and Knowledge: Essays, 1901–1956,ed. Robert M. Marsh (New York: Macmillan, 1956).
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everything’s doing it, all the time! But being is not a genus under which
everything falls, Heidegger insists. The question of being is transcendental; it
“aims at the condition of the possibility of the ontologies which precede the
ontic sciences and found them” (11).6
Heidegger calls his project fundamental ontology, and turns his attention
to Dasein, “being there,” the peculiarly human way of being. “Dasein is a
being that does not simply occur among other beings. Rather it is ontically
distinguished by the fact that in its being this being is concerned about its
very being” (12). Heidegger puts the point in a classically Hegelian
formulation: “Thus it is constitutive of the being of Dasein to have, in its
very being, a relation of being to this being” (12).7
Dasein “always understands itself in terms of its existence, in terms of its
possibility to be itself or not to be itself” (12). “To be or not to be”—that is
the central question for Dasein. It is what Heidegger calls the existential
question, and Dasein’s understanding of itself in these terms is existential
understanding, to be achieved by limning the structure of existence and its
constituents.8 The issue is not only Hamlet’s question of life or death, but a
broader question of what to be, or whether to be this or not to be this. It is, in
short, the question of freedom.
The opening pages of Being and Time thus give birth to existentialism. As
Jean-Paul Sartre defines it, existentialism is the thesis that existence precedes
essence—that human beings have no predetermined essence, that their lives
have no predetermined goal or purpose, and that they are thus radically free
6The extent to which Heidegger’s project is transcendental is controversial. For extended treatments, seeHerman Philipse, Heidegger’s Philosophy of Being: A Critical Interpretation (Princeton, NJ: PrincetonUniversity Press, 1998), 121–51, and Béatrice Han-Pile, “Early Heidegger’s Appropriation of Kant,” in ACompanion to Heidegger, ed. Hubert L. Dreyfus and Mark A. Wrathall (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2005),80–101.7Compare Hegel: “Spirit is essence, or that which has being in itself, and relates itself to itself andis determinate,” and Kierkegaard: “The self is a relation that relates itself to its own self.” G.W.F.Hegel Phenomenology of Spirit, trans. A.V. Miller (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 14;Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling and The Sickness Unto Death, trans. Walter Lowrie(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1954), 147. For discussion, see Richard Bernstein,Praxis and Action: Contemporary Philosophies of Human Activity (Philadelphia: University ofPennsylvania Press, 1971), 100–105, and Mark C. Taylor, Journeys to Selfhood: Hegel andKierkegaard (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), 144. The Hegelian/Kierkegaardiandefinition of the self as the relation R that relates itself to itself—R (R, R)—is nonsense in anyversion of type theory, but makes sense in type-free theories, of which there are now manyversions.8Strictly speaking, Heidegger distinguishes between the existentielle and the existential, where existentiellequestions pertain to everything, but existential questions pertain only to Dasein.
Heidegger’s Map
to define themselves and their existence.9 It would be too quick, however, to
say that Heidegger himself counts as an existentialist. Indeed, he rejects the
label. For Dasein does have an essence: “being in a world belongs essentially
to Dasein” (13). Dasein does not exist in isolation; it is essentially in a world.
As we shall see, many other things are essential to Dasein as a result.
Dasein’s freedom, moreover, is not as radical as Sartre seems to think.
Being-in-the-World
Understanding Dasein requires understanding what it is to be in a world,
and that requires some understanding of what a world is, as well as an
understanding of the beings that might populate such a world. It appears to
follow that worlds and the objects we might find in them are prior to Dasein,
at least in the order of understanding. Aristotle, for example, would think
they are prior in the order of being as well; consciousness must be
consciousness of something—a sensation, for instance, is always a sensation
of something, and that something must be prior to and independent of the
sensation.10 But Heidegger sees it differently. He asks about the worldliness
of a world—what a world is, or what it is to be a world—and concludes that
a world is the kind of thing that Dasein can be in. The essence of a world, in
other words, is its ability to relate to Dasein. This turns Aristotle’s picture on
its head; what consciousness is consciousness of depends on consciousness,
not the other way around.
So far, we seem to have a Hegelian idealism, in which the world itself
emerges as dependent on the mind—in this case, on Dasein. A world is a
characteristic of Dasein (64). But Heidegger changes the usual philosophical
understanding of the relationship between us and the world. He thinks of it
not primarily as a relation of perceiving or knowing but instead as a relation
of caring. Dasein’s relation to the world is essentially one of taking care of
things (57, 67). Things thus present themselves to us not primarily as objects
of perception or knowledge but as useful or valuable, as things we can use.
Our basic relation to the world is not epistemic, but pragmatic (68).
Things—his favorite example is a hammer—are handy, and their handiness is
9Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness: An Essay on Phenomenological Ontology (Gallimard, 1943;English trans., New York: Philosophical Library, 1956). The parallel between Heidegger’s title andSartre’s is not accidental.10Aristotle, Metaphysics 1010b35–1011a2.
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not something revealed to us theoretically through reflection but
pre-theoretically by action. This means that our chief relation to things is
teleological. The hammer is for driving nails. The shoes are for wearing on
the feet. The clock is for telling time. Their being consists in their handiness,
their Zuhandenheit (71), “being ready-to-hand.” This departs from the
traditional understanding, according to which things are what they are, and
their usability is an extrinsic property of them, a matter of their relation to us
and our various purposes. For Heidegger, handiness defines things in the
world as they are in themselves (72). Objects come already related to us. And
we are essentially absorbed in the world (113).11
One might object to this, even given Heidegger’s idealistic starting point.
We have to figure out what things are for. The baby in the nursery does not
immediately recognize the shoes as for wearing and the hammer as for
hammering; their handiness has to be learned. The same is true collectively:
people had to learn what things could be used as tools or eaten. Things did
not immediately present themselves as useful. To some degree, they had to
be classified and understood before being perceived as useful. But that would
give reflection priority over action, and being present priority over being
ready-to-hand.
There is another important difference between Heidegger’s idealism and
idealism as it is often understood. His method is phenomenology, which he
summarizes in the Husserlian slogan, “To the things themselves!” Things in
the world make themselves manifest; they present themselves. They are not
“appearances,” to use Kant’s favored term, for that suggests that they are
appearances of something else—things-in-themselves, in Kant, or collections
of entities of the scientific image, in Sellars.12 Heidegger rejects the
terminology because he rejects the underlying implication. Things in the
world—objects of the manifest image, as Sellars, following Heidegger, calls
them—are not appearances of something else, but are what they are. They are
the primary constituents of the world. Things that do not present themselves
to us as usable, or at all, are secondary, defined in terms of the manifest,
ready-to-hand objects. The world of our experience is the world, in the
11For an explanation of Heidegger’s arguments for this position, see Harrison Hall, “Intentionality andWorld: Division I of Being and Time,” in Guignon, Cambridge Companion to Heidegger, 122–40, 129–30, and Steven Galt Crowell, “Heidegger and Husserl: The Matter and Method of Philosophy,” in Dreyfusand Wrathall, Companion to Heidegger, 49–64.12See “Philosophy and the Scientific Image of Man,” in Frontiers of Science and Philosophy, ed. RobertColodny (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1962), 35–78; reprinted in Wilfrid Sellars,Science, Perception and Reality (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1963), 1–40.
Heidegger’s Map
primary sense, and its objects are the fundamental objects, irreducible to
anything else. (Whether we can make sense of the scientific image on this
ground remains an open question. Heidegger has little to say about science or
the objects it postulates in Being and Time.)
That doesn’t mean we cannot be wrong, suffer illusions, and so on. The
navy blue pants can look black in poor lighting. But that is because the true
character of objects can be obscured; we can seek to uncover, or discover,
their true nature. That is how Heidegger understands truth: the uncovering or
disclosure of what had been concealed. As we shall see, this leads him to a
distinctive method, interpretation or hermeneutics, dedicated to such
uncovering.
The Social Character of Being-in-the-World
We are not, of course, alone in the world. We encounter other people,
other selves, other Daseins. Our being-in-the-world is a Mitdasein,
being-with-others-in-the-world. We use things to produce objects for others as
well as for ourselves. We encounter objects as usable, most often, because
someone else has made them for us. The shoes, the hammer, the clock, the
tended field—all point to the existence of other people who stand in some
relation to the things at hand. “The world of Dasein is a with-world. Being-in is
being-with others” (118). If our basic relation to the things of the world is taking
care of, our basic relation to others is concern, a kind of caring, to be sure, but a
kind different from that directed at objects. Concern is part of our very being.
Ethics doesn’t just follow from what we are; it’s an intrinsic part of what we are.
Heidegger’s concept of concern is extremely broad. Opposing, fighting,
not mattering are all forms of concern (121). If so, one might object, the
concept is vacuous. But Heidegger puts it as he does because he wants to
stress that the primary issue confronting us when dealing with others is the
issue of concern: What concern should I have for this person, and what form
should it take? Other people do not present themselves to me in terms of their
mere existence, as a rock might, or in terms of usability, as a hammer
might—indeed, as Kant observed, treating people as mere objects to be used
is the paradigm of immorality—but instead as other Daseins, others who are
with me in the world and who merit concern in roughly the way I merit
concern from myself. This concern may take negative forms, such as hostility
or indifference, but it may also take positive forms.
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Heidegger distinguishes two positive forms of concern for others. First,
my concern for someone might take the form of taking care of the things they
would otherwise take care of, doing things for them, as a nurse might care for
a sick patient or a parent might care for a child. Second, my concern might
take the form of giving care-taking back to someone, enabling that person to
take care of things rather than taking care of them myself. That, Heidegger
says, is authentic care (122). It restores the other person’s essential role in
relation to things in the world. The parent and the nurse ideally do this as
well, taking care of things for someone and substituting their care-taking for
that person’s care-taking as a temporary measure designed to produce or
restore an ability to take care of things. Even the hospice nurse and the parent
of a severely disabled child may exhibit authentic care in the sense that they
try to enable their charge to take care of things within his capacities, and to
expand those capacities whenever possible. The simple test is this.
Inauthentic care encourages and produces dependence; authentic care
encourages and produces, to the extent that it can, independence. The former
dominates; the latter liberates.
Heidegger has sometimes been called a conservative, and, indeed, he here
sounds an important conservative theme. Caring for someone, directly or
through the medium of government, can produce dependence or independence,
and it is vital to be able to distinguish those forms of caring from one another.
Caring should aim at expanding capacities and enabling others to take care of
things on their own.
Freedom and Thrownness
Dasein does not relate to itself as it relates to other Daseins. Dasein is
disclosed to itself in moods. I experience my being in various ways, but
always within the framework of a mood. I may be bored, depressed, elevated,
excited, etc., but I am always something.
The underlying circumstance that makes this so is that I am, essentially, in
the world, but not in a way of my own making. I experience myself as having
been thrown into the world. My thrownness (Geworfenheit) gives me the
sense that I have been delivered over, that the most basic aspect of my life,
my being, is not under my control (135). That I was born at a given time and
in a given place, indeed, that I was born at all, was not under my control. The
past in its entirety is not under my control. The past is facticity, unchangeable
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fact, a given. As Dasein, I am in the world at a certain place—there
(Da)—but my control over that place is limited. I have no control over time.
And my life is finite, headed toward my own death. From this point of view,
Dasein experiences its own being as a burden.
Though my thrownness and my existence is not under my control, I can reactto it in different ways, expressed in different moods. Mostly, I experiencethrownness as a burden and turn away from it. That turning away, that evasion, isessential to Dasein in the sense that I can face my thrownness only briefly andoccasionally. But I may try to master my own moods. I cannot experience theworld mood-free, but I can perhaps replace one mood with another.
Does the inevitability of mood preclude the possibility of objectiveknowledge? Does my mood always shape my thinking, making its resultssubjective? Heidegger thinks that the answer is no, though he rejects the viewof most of the philosophical tradition that we have a special, theoretical wayof approaching the world that escapes the problem of mood and allows us tointeract with the world in a purely objective fashion. His model is Aristotle’sRhetoric rather than the De Anima. The objective is what emerges from aprocess of interested inquiry in which every participant has moods, desires,and emotions shaping his contribution to the inquiry. Our being with oneanother can produce objectivity through a structured process even though noone of us approaches the task in a completely objective way.
My thrownness does not contradict my freedom, though it does, of course,limit it. AsDasein I face a field of possibilities. I am located within such a field,and my location determines the possibilities that are alive for me. Because of thecircumstances of my birth, I cannot choose to become a Roman Senator or astarship captain. Because of my previous choices, I cannot choose to be alifelong bachelor or a child movie star. Indeed, I cannot even try to attain thesegoals. There are no paths connecting my current place in the field of possibilitieswith those goals. Every choice I make further limits my possibilities, leading mefurther on one set of paths but excluding others.
My freedom and my thrownness shape my understanding of myself as abeing who chooses, who selects from among a given field of possibilities. Ifeel myself tossed into a world not of my own making, but I project myselfinto the future by choosing and, in that way, shaping to a greater and greaterextent the nature of the possibilities I face. I structure my choices in terms ofprojects—some consciously conceived, thought out, and planned, and othersunconscious—and thus come to structure my existence and develop anunderstanding of myself and my life.
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Dasein is always, in a sense, more than it is, paradoxical as that sounds,
because it consists not only of its actual choices but also of the possibilities it
faces. We are, in other words, not only what we have been but what we could
be. “‘Become what you are!’ But who are ‘you’? The one who lets go—and
becomes” (145). Heidegger here sounds like the first motivational
speaker—inspiring, but on reflection vacuous, since this reduces to
“Become one who becomes,” and you already are.13
It follows that I can understand myself only by understanding the
world around me well enough to understand the possibilities that lie
before me. I can understand myself authentically by recognizing my
position as a free agent within a realm of possibilities determined partly by
my own choices, or I can understand myself inauthentically by refusing to
recognize my own degree of responsibility, by seeing myself and my
possibilities as given to me solely by something outside myself. We see here
the roots of Sartre’s idea of bad faith.
That is not enough. I need to take responsibility for my own choices and
understand the range of choices before me. But I also need to accept my
thrownness and embrace my being in the world in the ways that are not under
my control. I need to appropriate them into my identity, to affirm them as
mine. Dasein attunes itself to the world by identifying with the Da as well as
the Sein. The sense of thrownness leads to alienation, confusion, and the kind
of experience that later existentialist writers call a “confrontation with the
absurd.” (Heidegger offers the philosophical basis for absurdism in literature,
though Luigi Pirandello got there first; Six Characters in Search of an Author
preceded Being and Time by six years.) We must overcome our sense of
alienation, Heidegger insists, affirming what we are in all its aspects,
including those contingent features that stem from the circumstances of our
being born at a particular time and place into a particular kind of world.
Heidegger raises an important issue: To what extent should I affirm the purely
contingent features of my existence that are not under my control? When Albert
Camus summarizes his existentialist attitude in terms of “my revolt, my
freedom, and my passion,” he implies that I am bound to rebel against my
thrownness, against those features from which I feel alienation.14 Heidegger’s
13Thanks to Carol Iannone for putting it this way.14Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus, and Other Essays (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1955). See alsoAlbert Camus, The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1954), andResistance, Rebellion, and Death (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1961).
Heidegger’s Map
call to accept them, taken to an extreme, can lead to his own embrace of National
Socialism, not because it was a form of socialism, but because it was national.
Somewhere between Camus’s wholesale rejection and Heidegger’s
wholesale acceptance lies a more sensible reaction, to embrace those aspects
of my thrownness that I do not have good reason to reject. That, of course,
requires a higher or at least independent standard for accepting or rejecting
contingent features of my existence. In his conceptions of caring and
concern, Heidegger might have had the materials from which he might have
constructed such a standard. But he frames those ideas so broadly they
provide little help.
Heidegger’s framing of this issue has had an enormous impact on political
ideologies. Right and Left, as traditionally understood, have something to do
with the size and scope of government, but also with advocacy of or
resistance to change. As governments have expanded in size and scope
throughout the past two centuries, these considerations have come apart.
Advocates of limited government are increasingly the ones demanding
change, and advocates of expanded government insist on continuation of the
status quo, their rhetoric notwithstanding. Heidegger locates a more
perspicuous divide, between those who reject their thrownness and those
who appropriate it. Roger Scruton has defined conservatism as a philosophy
of oikophilia, of love of one’s own, love of home and inheritance, love of the
contingent features of one’s existence—an embrace of thrownness, in
Heidegger’s terminology—and has characterized the Left in terms of its
oikophobia, its repudiation of inheritance and home.15 Conservatives
embrace the familiar just because it is familiar, feel patriotic toward their
country just because it is their country, and identify with contingent features
of their existence just because they are contingent features of their existence.
This is not to say that conservatives embrace every contingent feature, every
aspect of their country, and everything familiar, no matter how ridiculous or
unjust. The moral core of oikophilia is that of friendship. Friends do not have
to embrace every feature and action of one another to be friends. But they do
have to feel affection for one another and wish one another well. Just so,
conservatives feel affection for what is theirs, even by accident, and they
wish it well. Leftists see this attitude as irrational, but they reject the familiar
15Roger H. Scruton, England and the Need for Nations (London: Civitas, 2004), and How to ThinkSeriously about the Planet: The Case for an Environmental Conservatism (Oxford: Oxford UniversityPress, 2012).
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just because it is familiar, reject their country just because it is their country,
and reject the contingent features of their existence just because they are
contingent features of their existence. Again, they need not reject everything
about what is theirs. But their basic attitude toward it is dissatisfaction,
disaffection, and repudiation. They wish it well only to the extent that they
can change it to conform to what they wish it were. There is no difference in
rational justification between these attitudes. The oikophile and the
oikophobe alike can adopt these attitudes critically or uncritically. The
difference is one of defaults. Is the default attitude to be an embrace or a
rejection of the familiar?
Heidegger sees an important distinction between these attitudes, not on the
basis of rationality, but on the basis of the progression of Dasein. To reject
the familiar is to reject one’s thrownness and remain mired in a swamp of
confusion and alienation. (Confusion, because there are many alternatives to
the familiar; alienation, because Dasein, in rejecting the familiar, must in a
sense reject itself.) It is to prevent Dasein from embracing its own being in
the world and attaining maturity. There is also a political danger: rejection of
contingent features of existence promotes Utopian, ahistorical thinking, for it
pushes aside the limitations imposed by circumstances and even the
historical, temporal nature of Dasein itself.
The Fall and the Plunge
The chief enemy of authenticity—and the chief way of being
inauthentic—is falling prey to the ordinary patterns of the world, its
everydayness. This is not merely a contingent danger, like falling into a
manhole; it is an essential part of what Dasein is. It is part of its ontological
structure. Dasein is engaged and even entangled with the world. It is
absorbed in taking care of the things around it and interacting with other
people. Dasein falls easily into the pattern of letting the things and the other
people set the agenda, of getting “lost in the publicness of the they” (175), of
being “taken in by the world and the Mitdasein of the others” (176). This is
what it is to fall prey to the world, being “guided by idle talk, curiosity, and
ambiguity” (175). Our engagement with the world readily slides into
absorption by the world. Our being in the world is fraught with temptation,
the temptation to lose ourselves in the everyday and fall prey to being
completely directed by it. That suggests passivity, but people who are
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inauthentic in this way do not look passive; indeed, they look busy, doing
this and doing that, deeply entangled with the world and its affairs. The
danger is that they pay no attention to their own goals, their own identities,
their own projects, and thus lose sight of their own freedom. Following the
world’s lead, Dasein finds itself torn away from itself. Sooner or later, that
experience becomes alienating.
Alienation, in turn, can produce a reaction against this kind of
entanglement with the world, when Dasein realizes that it is becoming lost
in the world, and can turn into self-entanglement, a sort of self-dissection or
introspection that also separates Dasein from its true possibilities, which of
course pertain to its relation to the world, not merely to itself. Heidegger calls
this “taking the plunge,” the plunge into oneself. The plunge “constantly
tears understanding away from projecting authentic possibilities, and into the
tranquillized supposition of possessing or attaining everything” (178). It
leads to the illusion of understanding things completely because Dasein no
longer confronts the world as it is, but only as it imagines it to be.
Anyone familiar with Hegel will see in Heidegger’s account of the fall and
the plunge an echo of the stages of consciousness in The Phenomenology of
Spirit, in particular, those of sense-consciousness and perception. The former
treats consciousness in Heraclitean fashion as constantly changing, driven by
something outside consciousness itself, while the latter treats it as unified in a
nearly Parmenidean fashion. That leads to an expectation that soon to follow
must be consciousness’s transformation into self-consciousness by way of the
master/slave struggle and the dialectic of unhappy consciousness, ultimately
resolving in mutual recognition with another. Anyone approaching
Heidegger from a postmodern point of view will try to link his conceptions
of inauthenticity to oppression, taking the master/slave conflict literally and
assuming that, if we fall or plunge, we must somehow have been pushed.
Heidegger, however, disappoints these expectations. As in Hegel, the
dialectic here does not result from social and political forces of oppression,
domination, hegemony, marginalization, etc. It is intrinsic to Dasein. In
contrast to Hegel, there is no master/slave dichotomy. We do not have to
struggle or be struggled against to gain mutual recognition. Our way of being
in the world is inherently Mitdasein, being in the world with others, in
community. Our relation to others is, intrinsically, one of concern. To be in
community with others, to care for others, to be cared for by them, to feel and
display concern—these are not achievements, much less Utopian visions.
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These are natural for us. They are part of Dasein’s ontological structure, part
of its essence.
This, perhaps, is why we can embrace home, the familiar, our communal
and cultural inheritance, and the other contingent aspects of our existence. At
the risk of trivializing the point: at home, we are at home. We naturally form
part of a community with which we share not only the essential features of
Dasein, but, in large measure, the contingent features of our existences that
constitute our thrownness.
Interpretation
How is understanding possible? We perceive things as something: this as a
book to be read, that as a hammer to be used, and so on. We do not lay a
conceptual structure or a structure of significance on an objective, value-free
world; Dasein encounters the world as already structured and already having
significance in relation to Dasein itself. Our interpretation of the world rests
on these sorts of small fore-interpretations. It does not proceed all at once,
but consists in putting them together. And it is therefore not presupposition-free,
but rests on interpretations already present. We start with the “undisputed
prejudice of the interpreter” (150). Things have meaning from the start. But their
meaning is not intrinsic to them; it consists in their relation to Dasein. Only
Dasein has meaning in itself.
Heidegger reflects on the Socratic puzzle that, to try to understand
something, we must already in some sense understand it, for we must know
what it is we are trying to understand. If, as in the Meno, we inquire into the
nature of virtue, how could we recognize a successful account unless we
already know what virtue is? This appears to be a vicious circle, Heidegger
says, because we misunderstand understanding. The problem is not getting
out of the circle, but getting into it in the right way by realizing that
understanding rests on fore-understanding. We already perceive objects as
something, and as ready-to-hand, as usable. That does not mean that we can
give anything like an account that would please Socrates. But we encounter
the world with rough-and-ready meanings already attached.
These are prejudices, true, and later postmodern thinkers have used
Heidegger’s analysis to undermine the idea of objectivity altogether.
Heidegger himself, however, does not see any of this as precluding scientific
understanding. We can start with preconceptions, everyday ideas, what Aristotle
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would term the opinions of the many, and we often do. But we can also
develop interpretations scientifically by looking to the things themselves.
We cannot have a presupposition-free science or even a presupposition-free
mathematics. They develop historically, starting from meanings and interpre-
tations already there. But we can try to rest them on narrower and narrower
foundations, extracting the arbitrary, the variable, and the merely historical or
cultural. We can think of the objective as the limit of this process. It can
never be achieved fully, but it can be approximated, and objectivity can serve
a useful function as a regulative ideal. Heidegger rejects both the Hegelian
thought that science proceeds in a fully rational, predictable way and also the
Nietzschean thought that science proceeds according to no rational pattern at
all. His view is pragmatic, closer to that of C.S. Peirce then to others in the
Continental tradition. Science’s rationality stems not from its starting points,
but from its self-corrective methods, and its universality and objectivity are
not automatic but instead the ideals at which those methods aim.
We express our judgments in language, which, like any form of
communication, is essentially social. So, in articulating interpretations, we
face another source of prejudice. We rest our articulated interpretations not
only on the fore-interpretations of experience, but on the conceptual structure
of our language, which embodies a system of interpretation with presuppo-
sitions of its own. It is not an accident that Heidegger introduces a new
philosophical vocabulary and uses words in so many unusual ways. He
worries about the possibility of communicating the interpretation of being in
the world that he wants to communicate in terms of a conceptual scheme,
already there in the language, which is incompatible with the perspective he
wants to convey. It is similarly not an accident that science and mathematics
introduce new vocabularies and use familiar terms in new, technical ways.
We face a problem analogous to Heidegger’s in constructing any interpretation,
inside or outside of science. Language can conceal as well as reveal.
The interpretive method Heidegger recommends for revealing what lies
hidden and thus attaining truth is hermeneutics. The metaphors of covering
and uncovering, hiding and revealing, suggest a methodology exploited by
thinkers from Marx to Freud to the postmodernists, a hermeneutic of
suspicion that discounts what people say and alleges other, unconscious
meanings and motivations. That has provoked the entirely justified response
that the alleged meanings and motivations stem from the theory the
interpreter brings to the task and have little or nothing to do with the text
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being interpreted and everything to do with the interpreter’s agenda or desire
to control discourse, etc. But Heidegger means something different. He takes
the manifest image for what it is; he does not reduce it to some other level with
true causal and explanatory power. So, he has nothing corresponding to Marx’s
material level of economic and class struggle, Freud’s subconscious, Levi-
Strauss’s or Foucault’s anthropology, Gramsci’s cultural hegemony, and so on.
Heidegger’s own metaphors aside, his conception of hermeneutics is more
like putting together a puzzle than pushing aside a curtain. We piece together
the fore-interpretations we have into local and then global interpretations that
make sense. He sometimes speaks as a holist; we can recognize something as
a piece of equipment only by seeing it as part of a system of things taken as
equipment. This supports the puzzle analogy: I find it very difficult to put a
puzzle together if I don’t know anything about what the overall puzzle looks
like. But I don’t have to understand exactly where any particular piece goes. I
begin by grouping some pieces together, finding chunks that fit with one
another, searching for other pieces that fit, and eventually putting large
sections together. Hermeneutics is not a license to interpret anything however
one likes. Still less does it involve a commitment to a structure that underlies
the world as it is manifest to us, for that would turn it into a mere appearance.
Hermeneutics, for Heidegger, is a matter of refining and piecing together our
local fore-conceptions and fore-understandings into an overall understanding,
one that, ideally, remains stable in the face of further challenges.
Self-Adjudication
Robert Brandom develops an insightful way to grasp Heidegger’s
project.16 That project divides things, broadly speaking, into three categories:
the ready-to-hand (e.g., the book, the hammer), the present (e.g., the objects
of the natural sciences), and the social. We can ask a meta-question: Is that
categorization itself ready-to-hand, present, or social? The general form of
the question is this. Suppose we use concepts (or institutions, or practices,
etc.) to draw distinctions. We can then ask whether any of those concepts is
16Robert B. Brandom, “Heidegger’s Categories in Sein und Zeit,” Monist 66, no. 3 (July 1983): 387–409;reprinted in Robert B. Brandom, Tales of the Mighty Dead: Historical Essays in the Metaphysics ofIntentionality (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002), 298–323, and in Dreyfus and Wrathall,Companion to Heidegger, 214–32.
Heidegger’s Map
self-adjudicating in the sense that it applies to what distinguishes things
falling under it from the rest.
This kind of question is familiar from modal logic, which distinguishes the
necessary from the contingent. (Say, for simplicity, that by “contingent” we
simply mean “not necessary.”) We can ask whether the judgment that
something is necessary is itself necessary. If it is necessary that p, is it
necessary that it is necessary that p? If so, the necessary is self-adjudicating.
We can ask this kind of question about all sorts of distinctions and theses.
Philosophers, for example, are fond of distinguishing the a priori from the a
posteriori—what is independent of experience from what depends on
experience. We can then ask, is that distinction itself a priori or a posteriori?
More precisely: Is the judgment that a given judgment is a priori itself a
priori? If so, the a priori is self-adjudicating. It determines its own
boundaries. Judgments about aprioricity are themselves a priori. Similarly,
we can ask whether the judgment that a given judgment is analytic or
synthetic is itself analytic or synthetic, whether the distinction between the
mental and the physical is itself mental or physical, and so on.
Brandom interprets Heidegger as asking this question, first, with respect to
the distinction between the ready-to-hand and the present. He argues that the
ready-to-hand is self-adjudicating; we judge what is ready-to-hand and what
is merely present to Dasein from within the sphere of the ready-to-hand.
This, Brandom contends, is what Heidegger means in saying that
fundamental ontology is the regional ontology of Dasein.
Brandom takes this one step further. Once we include the social in ourcategorization, it becomes self-adjudicating, and the ready-to-hand loses itsprivileged status. Interpretation and understanding are articulated inlanguage, which is essentially social. In submitting myself to communicationI submit myself to an authority outside myself, for language’s socialcharacter means that the rules of usage depend on something outside me,on us instead of me, on Mitdasein rather than Dasein alone. It follows that, inthis three-fold classification, the social is self-adjudicating. Whethersomething counts as ready-to-hand, present, or social is ultimately a socialquestion to be settled by appeal to social authority and practice.
Brandom cares about what is self-adjudicating because he sees it asdetermining what is basic for fundamental ontology. If the ready-to-hand isself-adjudicating, it is ontologically basic, relative to the merely present. Ifthe social is self-adjudicating, it is basic relative to both. Dasein ends upyielding its position to Mitdasein, and fundamental ontology becomes the
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regional ontology of the community. Brandom embraces that conclusion. But,reflecting on Heidegger’s embrace of Nazism, it seems reasonable to worryabout both the regional and the communal aspects of this formulation.Friendship toward the familiar must not be allowed to become hostility towardthe unfamiliar. And orientation toward the community must not be allowed tobecome subjugation of the individual.
It seems to many a small step from this position to the idea that all
conceptualization, all judgment, all inference, and all “truth” is socially
determined, relative to a community of people who recognize one another as
members of the community and share the same language. If Brandom is
right, then, moving from Heidegger to postmodernism merely elaborates the
implications of the self-adjudicating nature of the social, sketching more fully
the picture that Heidegger had already drawn.
I have introduced Brandom’s interpretation because the idea that the
social is self-adjudicating and therefore fundamental has become
pervasive in certain areas of the humanities and social sciences.
Whether or not it interprets Heidegger correctly, it interprets him in a
powerful and influential way. It leads to a two-step inference:
The social is self-adjudicating.
Therefore, the social is ontologically fundamental.
Therefore, everything is a social construction.
Heidegger’s thought has undoubtedly led others to this inference, whether or
not he would have accepted it himself. Once one grants that everything is a
social construction, moreover, truth, objectivity, and other kinds of rational
constraints appear to go out the window.
I am not at all convinced, however, that Heidegger would have
accepted any of these propositions. If he ultimately takes the social as
fundamental, why focus Being and Time on Dasein? Why construct a
conception of understanding and interpretation on other grounds, and
then connect them to language and thus to the social by way of
communication, rather than begin by arguing that understanding and
interpretation are essentially linguistic? Why take the fundamental
relation to others to be concern rather than something more directly
connected to authority and social practice?
Heidegger speaks throughout Being and Time of the ontological structure
of Dasein, of things that are essential to Dasein: its being-in-the-world, its
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thrownness, its grappling with fallenness and even the plunge, its freedom,
and its temporality.17 He never relativizes those claims to a set of social
practices. They are part of what it is to be in the world, full stop. They are
presuppositions of any set of social practices.
Another argument against the social interpretation is that it misses the
transcendental character of Heidegger’s project. Kant searched for the ground
of the possibility of experience; Heidegger searches for the ground of the
possibility of being in the world with others. Consider Heidegger’s
proclamation in the final paragraph of Being and Time:
The preliminary disclosure of being, although it is unconceptual, makes
it possible for Dasein as existing being-in-the-world to be related to
beings, to those it encounters in the world as well as to itself as existing.
(p. 437)
The goal is not to show that everything depends on social practices, but to
uncover the ground of those practices—to reveal the fundamental nature of
being in the world by asking what must be the case if those social practices
are to be possible.
Whether or not it is Heidegger’s view, I see an adequate pragmatism as
incompatible with all three propositions. The social is not self-adjudicating in
the sense of being able to determine its own boundaries. If it were, it could
decree itself as having dominion over everything, at every level, and make
talk of refinement, adjustment, stability, and the like otiose. But social
practices cannot decree that everything is to be settled according to social
practices alone. Those social practices cannot survive. King Canute can
command the seas to obey him, and social practices can defer to his
assertion, but the waves will not submit. Dissenters can of course be sent to
concentration camps. But eventually the clash between social practices and
reality takes a toll on those social practices.
Social practices, ultimately, have to respond to the Gods of the Copybook
Headings. They have to respond to reality. They also have to respond to
human nature—in Heidegger’s language, to the underlying structures of
Dasein. Sorting things into the ready-to-hand, the present, and the social may
itself be a social practice—or not, since who before Heidegger thought of
17On the last, see William D. Blattner, Heidegger’s Temporal Idealism (Cambridge and New York:Cambridge University Press, 1999).
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it?—but social practices are not free to eliminate any of the three categories,
or, Heidegger thinks, to subordinate the ready-to-hand to the merely present.
Even if the social is self-adjudicating, it is not clear what follows. Suppose
that the a priori is self-adjudicating, so that the judgment “‘2+2=4’ is a
priori” is itself a priori. It does not follow that everything is a priori. Perhaps
it follows that aprioricity is in some sense epistemologically basic. The a
posteriori becomes dependent in the sense that the judgment “‘the sky is
blue’ is a posteriori” is itself a priori. But that is a very weak sense of
dependence; “the sky is blue” is still a posteriori, and the a priori truths, taken
together, do not determine its truth. Similarly, suppose that analyticity is
self-adjudicating: “‘bachelors are unmarried’ is analytic” is itself analytic.
The analytic truths, taken together, do not determine the synthetic truths. Nor
does everything end up analytic.
So, even if we grant that the social is self-adjudicating, nothing much
follows. It does not follow, in particular, that everything is social. Nor do
truths about social practices determine the truths about the ready-to-hand
and the present. The ontological status of these categories has nothing to
do with self-adjudication.
Conclusion
I have argued that Heidegger develops important insights into the human
condition in Being and Time. But his philosophical map also misdescribes
certain areas, leading himself and his followers to some unfortunate places.
Idealism itself is a dangerous doctrine; by holding that everything is
mind-dependent, it risks cutting the mind off from anything that might serve
as a check on its fancies. Taking things ready-to-hand as basic seems to get
things backwards, treating meanings as given but objects, including the objects
of science, as constructed and secondary. It is hard to see, on his account, how
science is even possible. Heidegger’s notions of care and concern place
normativity at the heart ofDasein’s being-in-the-world, but the concepts remain
so attenuated that they generate no substantive ethical constraints. His
conceptions of hermeneutics and social practices encourage postmodern
practices of interpretation that undermine not only the concepts of truth and of
individual rights and liberties, but also the practice of intellectual inquiry itself.
These aspects of his thought made Heidegger’s affinity for Nazism
possible, but that affinity itself has its roots, I suspect, in aspects of his
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thought that I have not discussed. Heidegger puts philosophy first, giving it
priority over scientific investigation. Philosophy, he thinks, tells us that our
being is finite, temporal, and historical. Heidegger interprets authenticity,
ultimately, as being oriented toward our finitude, that is, toward death. Death
is our individual destiny, but Dasein also has a collective, regional, historical
destiny, he insists, and a true leader identifies that destiny and brings it about.
When Adolf Hitler offered just such a vision, and offered himself as the
leader to bring it about, Heidegger was all too ready to help.
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