I'm sitting down to write on an article concerning Zhuangzi and language games. This is in response to Hansen's unified theory of language and its consequences for classical Chinese discourse. Hansen's model is a key part of his conclusion that Zhuangzi is a moral relativist, or at best a pluralist, but with no ability to make any discernment that stands as a universal proscription of care.
Classical Chinese philosophy in general seems to assume that people always speak from within positions, or at least, from within contexts. Communication was highly performative (as Fingarette discusses in The Secular as Sacred), and the goal was often the direction or re-direction of human activity.
It might appear at first glance that this observation might nullify much of Hansen's argument - after all, if we're already speaking form within a perspective, doesn't that mean that the issue of relativism doesn't accurately apply? But Hansen's argument is more complicated than this. His claim that Zhuangzi is a relativist is compatible with the idea that language begins as a performative and socially contextualized practice. This is, I assume, encapsulated in his idea that Chinese language functions as a complex set of input and output.
The real challenge is that Hansen seems to regard any use of language as an act of "discrimination," the act of using language to differentiate objects within the world. In classical Chinese we would refer to this as bian 辯, which is closely related to the process of sense discrimination (bian 辨). And any act of discrimination is made from within a perspective, based on the intrinsic constitution of the xin 心 (heat-mind) of the organism in question. So, this means language is a process of socialization and programming, hypothetically infinitely complex in variability, but serving the basic function of differentiating objects and describing the kinds of activity suitable for their interaction and treatment.
Hansen's argument is that Zhuangzi and the Dao De Jing both question the efficacy of this model of language as a means for guiding human behavior. They reject the idea that language can be used as a tool for providing shared standards of discourse. Zhuangzi questions it based on the manner in which every usage of language is made from within a perspective, and that perspective is in part based on the intrinsic dispositions of the agent. These dispositions organize language into a framework of activity, which Hansen claims is dao.
IF we grant all of Hansen's assumptions, this argument does make sense. However, I think we can challenge his model on a few important points.
First, it's not apparent that the only function of language is input-output. Zhuangzi's ability to use language to disrupt closed perspectives suggests that (in Hansen's computer-based model of the heart-mind) language can also be used to "reboot" the heart-mind. Zhuangzi very clearly and emphatically states the importance of clearing out the heart-mind, and allowing spirit (qi 氣) to move through all the organs. This is more than simply communicating another perspective, but seeks to therapeutically treat a function of the heart-mind.
The question is, is this perspective simply another form of input and output? It might be, but if so it would require making a distinction between exchanges that happen internally versus exchanges that happen externally. Hansen wants to avoid "mentalism" in his interpretation, but in doing so he seems to avoid any discussion of the internal mechanisms of the xin. And the text makes several mentions of the difference between internal and external, and of the importance of not allowing the external to enter the body and disrupt the internal. It also suggests the importance of treating the internal as well as the external, because dangers can come from both directions.
We see here that this model actually challenges two important aspects of Hansen's model: the idea that all language is simply input/output, and his model of the heart-mind as simply a collection of dispositions.
I want to develop this critique by demonstrating how Zhuangzi notes several different ways that language can be used. The challenge is to show that these ways of using language do have efficacy across perspectives, and that statements made from one perspective aren't simply attempting to overwrite distinctions made from another perspective. I think this can be shown in the text, as I think that Zhuangzi uses language to remind us of its limits, and that recognizing those limits actually creates the freedom necessary to use language in ways that help promote sorting out the changes of yin and yang.
In other words, it means the purpose Zhuangzi's ethical ideal of nourishing the xin is so the xin can better navigate the fluctuations of yin and yang. This ideal emerges from within Zhuangzi's own perspective, but it also seems important to any agent or organism. If the xin is the factor that determines the subjectivity of the agent, then it seems clear that Zhuangzi's perspective is relevant to any organism or agent that makes discriminations. In this context, it appears beneficial to any organism to engage in the kinds of particular actions described towards the xin, and to learn how to let the xin wander, and facilitate emptiness and wandering.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Academia - On East Asian Studies
This is a question that was raised in a series of email dialogues with a few friends. One in particular is concerned about the role of Asian philosophy in the American philosophical market (a concern I share as well), and about his ability to get a job as philosopher of Japanese aesthetics and religion. He's actually studying the influence of Non-Japanese religious and philosophical concepts on the Japanese idea of mono-no-aware, an idea that is interesting, controversial, and that should provide plenty of scholarly depth and research.
The problem, however, is that in terms of marketability, he would probably be better suited in an East Asian Languages and Culture program. I've encouraged him to apply, and I hope something works out for him. Given that things might not, this naturally raised questions and concerns about the nature of the American academic market, whether contemporary American philosophy has any use or interest for Asian philosophy in general, and (for me, at least), the degree to which the two can engage in functionally productive conversations on shared topics of interest.
First of all, one of the immediate problems in studying Asian philosophy is that the American academic market isn't even convinced that Chinese and Japanese traditions produce something called "philosophy." The evidence here isn't simply anecdotal: there's no standard understanding of how eastern traditions fit into the administrative structures higher education. The number of programs that actually allow for the study of east Asian philosophy qua philosophy is relatively small.
Both East Asian and South Asian philosophy have traditionally found their homes in religious studies programs, departments of religion, or departments of east asian religions and language. These latter are in all honesty probably provide the strongest opportunities for studying eastern thought, as it requires understanding different modes of discourse, different cosmologies, and usually at least two other languages (Chinese and Japanese for East Asian, and German and Sanskrit for South Asian).
However, this also seems to have the effect of keeping contemporary American philosophy removed from the concerns of eastern thought. Religious beliefs about ancient cosmologies, after all, are not really the concern of contemporary philosophy. As such, contemporary American philosophy (philosophy of mind, philosophy of science, philosophy of language, etc) can thus safely disregard the ideas and beliefs of eastern traditions.
On a more practical level, attempting to move beyond simple comparative philosophy is actually an extremely difficult task. Introducing an entirely new vocabulary to a conversation already in progress is not only disorienting to the original members of the conversation, but is often viewed as anti-productive and self-serving. The other problem is that the concepts in many eastern traditions are based on views of personhood and language that are so fundamentally different from the models already in use in many western debates that attempting to use eastern terms often results in being bogged down in lengthy discussions about cosmology, moral relativism, and incommensurability.
This wouldn't be such a frustrating issue to me if I didn't feel like Asian traditions actually have a great deal to say to western traditions. The recent development of moral psychology could benefit immensely from dialogues with Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism. Political and social philosophy is another area of immense importance, as eastern traditions don't just grapple with problems of intersubjectivity, but are all predicated on assumptions of intersubjectivity. The resultant models of personhood found in asian traditions of thought are simultaneously nuanced and complex, and further study by western traditions in general would reveal many insights and resolve many issues still under struggle. Models of aesthetics as well would benefit, as Eastern thought in particular eschews subject/object relations in art and instead focuses on the dynamics of aesthetic experience and the transformative power of gesture or word.
This is just a small list of the possible benefits, and I think it's worth stopping here for the moment. One direct for further conversation would be to discuss these particular areas in more detail, and provide more specific examples. Another direction for further discussion would be to discuss more complicated areas, such as philosophy of science and technology. And finally, I still want to eventually address my ultimate concern, which is the nature of incommensurability and the challenges of actually engaging in cross-cultural philosophical dialogue.
Here's a spoiler: the biggest problem is often identifying a shared problem, and convincing all the interlocutors involved that the problem is common across different traditions.
The problem, however, is that in terms of marketability, he would probably be better suited in an East Asian Languages and Culture program. I've encouraged him to apply, and I hope something works out for him. Given that things might not, this naturally raised questions and concerns about the nature of the American academic market, whether contemporary American philosophy has any use or interest for Asian philosophy in general, and (for me, at least), the degree to which the two can engage in functionally productive conversations on shared topics of interest.
First of all, one of the immediate problems in studying Asian philosophy is that the American academic market isn't even convinced that Chinese and Japanese traditions produce something called "philosophy." The evidence here isn't simply anecdotal: there's no standard understanding of how eastern traditions fit into the administrative structures higher education. The number of programs that actually allow for the study of east Asian philosophy qua philosophy is relatively small.
Both East Asian and South Asian philosophy have traditionally found their homes in religious studies programs, departments of religion, or departments of east asian religions and language. These latter are in all honesty probably provide the strongest opportunities for studying eastern thought, as it requires understanding different modes of discourse, different cosmologies, and usually at least two other languages (Chinese and Japanese for East Asian, and German and Sanskrit for South Asian).
However, this also seems to have the effect of keeping contemporary American philosophy removed from the concerns of eastern thought. Religious beliefs about ancient cosmologies, after all, are not really the concern of contemporary philosophy. As such, contemporary American philosophy (philosophy of mind, philosophy of science, philosophy of language, etc) can thus safely disregard the ideas and beliefs of eastern traditions.
On a more practical level, attempting to move beyond simple comparative philosophy is actually an extremely difficult task. Introducing an entirely new vocabulary to a conversation already in progress is not only disorienting to the original members of the conversation, but is often viewed as anti-productive and self-serving. The other problem is that the concepts in many eastern traditions are based on views of personhood and language that are so fundamentally different from the models already in use in many western debates that attempting to use eastern terms often results in being bogged down in lengthy discussions about cosmology, moral relativism, and incommensurability.
This wouldn't be such a frustrating issue to me if I didn't feel like Asian traditions actually have a great deal to say to western traditions. The recent development of moral psychology could benefit immensely from dialogues with Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism. Political and social philosophy is another area of immense importance, as eastern traditions don't just grapple with problems of intersubjectivity, but are all predicated on assumptions of intersubjectivity. The resultant models of personhood found in asian traditions of thought are simultaneously nuanced and complex, and further study by western traditions in general would reveal many insights and resolve many issues still under struggle. Models of aesthetics as well would benefit, as Eastern thought in particular eschews subject/object relations in art and instead focuses on the dynamics of aesthetic experience and the transformative power of gesture or word.
This is just a small list of the possible benefits, and I think it's worth stopping here for the moment. One direct for further conversation would be to discuss these particular areas in more detail, and provide more specific examples. Another direction for further discussion would be to discuss more complicated areas, such as philosophy of science and technology. And finally, I still want to eventually address my ultimate concern, which is the nature of incommensurability and the challenges of actually engaging in cross-cultural philosophical dialogue.
Here's a spoiler: the biggest problem is often identifying a shared problem, and convincing all the interlocutors involved that the problem is common across different traditions.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Philosophy - Language, Desire, and Society
One element I like about east Asian philosophy in general (and here I'm thinking in particular of Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism), is the recognition of a complex relationship between language, desire, and social performance.
In the case of the Zhuangzi, the Zhuangzi clearly recognizes how human behavior involves making distinctions that are not initially based in rational reflection. According to the Zhuangzi, men's spirits are constantly trembling, moving in the directions of their desires, and becoming entangled in strife and conflict. Desires actually lead to discriminations, and these discriminations are then unified under a term (an action performed by the heart-mind, which is responsible for "tallying" together the distinctions of the sense-organs). These words then become markers for not only what things are, but how they are useful to the speaker. They function as demonstrative expressions, pointing out something from its environment; as representations (often seen in the ideograms), and finally also as significations of meaning, where meaning is often codified according to how the object is supposed to be used, or how the object functions within a system of relations. These categories agree with Cassirer's distinctions on symbolic form, which provides a useful method for looking at how Chinese language is used.
This does not mean that language is simply emotivistic: rather, it means that language functions in a complex set of relationships, relationships that are in part shaped and understood through language. So, instead of simply saying "tree good!" language *often* (but not always) is used to identify objects and make use of objects within a habituated network of relations. I suspect that further reading in semiotics would help articulate this model more accurately, and I should probably look at the writings of Charles Pierce. In any case, the idea of structure doesn't require that these structures be permanent; but it doesn't mean they simply happen overnight, either. Language, as a complex system of meaning, is a complicated set of relationships that develop over long periods of time, and is passed (or replicated, depending on your view) not only from generation to generation, but from conversation to conversation.
So, where does that leave us? If language isn't simply emotivism, then is it deterministic? Are we doomed to surrender to the network of utility relations as described in words and habituated through living practice and social habits? I should hope not, based simply on the fact that the above theory relies on an unstated assumption: that meaning occurs through usage. And because of this, we are able to identify how we use language, how we use words in individual contexts, and to change. As discussed by the Zhuangzi, words are not simply blowing breath, they have something to say. This is despite the fact that words are not fixed, nor is it always clear what words depend on for their saying anything. However, at least with the Zhuangzi, it seems clear that wordplay, puns, jokes, and unfamiliar uses of language are all part of disrupting established habits of language.
In the case of the Zhuangzi, the Zhuangzi clearly recognizes how human behavior involves making distinctions that are not initially based in rational reflection. According to the Zhuangzi, men's spirits are constantly trembling, moving in the directions of their desires, and becoming entangled in strife and conflict. Desires actually lead to discriminations, and these discriminations are then unified under a term (an action performed by the heart-mind, which is responsible for "tallying" together the distinctions of the sense-organs). These words then become markers for not only what things are, but how they are useful to the speaker. They function as demonstrative expressions, pointing out something from its environment; as representations (often seen in the ideograms), and finally also as significations of meaning, where meaning is often codified according to how the object is supposed to be used, or how the object functions within a system of relations. These categories agree with Cassirer's distinctions on symbolic form, which provides a useful method for looking at how Chinese language is used.
This does not mean that language is simply emotivistic: rather, it means that language functions in a complex set of relationships, relationships that are in part shaped and understood through language. So, instead of simply saying "tree good!" language *often* (but not always) is used to identify objects and make use of objects within a habituated network of relations. I suspect that further reading in semiotics would help articulate this model more accurately, and I should probably look at the writings of Charles Pierce. In any case, the idea of structure doesn't require that these structures be permanent; but it doesn't mean they simply happen overnight, either. Language, as a complex system of meaning, is a complicated set of relationships that develop over long periods of time, and is passed (or replicated, depending on your view) not only from generation to generation, but from conversation to conversation.
So, where does that leave us? If language isn't simply emotivism, then is it deterministic? Are we doomed to surrender to the network of utility relations as described in words and habituated through living practice and social habits? I should hope not, based simply on the fact that the above theory relies on an unstated assumption: that meaning occurs through usage. And because of this, we are able to identify how we use language, how we use words in individual contexts, and to change. As discussed by the Zhuangzi, words are not simply blowing breath, they have something to say. This is despite the fact that words are not fixed, nor is it always clear what words depend on for their saying anything. However, at least with the Zhuangzi, it seems clear that wordplay, puns, jokes, and unfamiliar uses of language are all part of disrupting established habits of language.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Philosophy - Pragmatism, Language, and Chinese Philosophy
I'm currently working on pragmatic models of language and pragmatic aesthetics of feeling. This is part of my response to Chad Hansen's interpretation of Chinese philosophy, and his arguments concerning the relationship between models of language and models of consciousness.
I'm mostly concerned that Hansen's idea of a "pragmatic" model of language is too simple. He provides a basic model of meaning in a pragmatic model of language, but he doesn't acknowledge that, even in pragmatic models of language, there are many different ways words can be used.
In other words, pragmatic models of language are concerned with more than just meaning as a course of direction. I'm thinking in particular of Wittgenstein and the idea of language games. Under this model, which is a pragmatic model, there can be many different ways of using language. This means there can be different ways of using language to create transformation within an environment.
Hansen describes only one of these methods (in the context of Classical Chinese), the basic use of 明 "ming" to direct human activity. I contend that the Zhuangzi contains depictions of these kinds of basic interactions, but also recognizes several other ways that language can be used. In effect, the Zhuangzi recognizes conventional uses of language, while at the same time proposing its own rules for a new game, a game of therapeutically treating problems caused by the conventional usage. The genius of the Inner Chapters is that the author is capable of shifting between these two games effortlessly, using linguistic strategies of the conventional approach even while deploying new strategies to demonstrate the limitations of those conventions.
I'm mostly concerned that Hansen's idea of a "pragmatic" model of language is too simple. He provides a basic model of meaning in a pragmatic model of language, but he doesn't acknowledge that, even in pragmatic models of language, there are many different ways words can be used.
In other words, pragmatic models of language are concerned with more than just meaning as a course of direction. I'm thinking in particular of Wittgenstein and the idea of language games. Under this model, which is a pragmatic model, there can be many different ways of using language. This means there can be different ways of using language to create transformation within an environment.
Hansen describes only one of these methods (in the context of Classical Chinese), the basic use of 明 "ming" to direct human activity. I contend that the Zhuangzi contains depictions of these kinds of basic interactions, but also recognizes several other ways that language can be used. In effect, the Zhuangzi recognizes conventional uses of language, while at the same time proposing its own rules for a new game, a game of therapeutically treating problems caused by the conventional usage. The genius of the Inner Chapters is that the author is capable of shifting between these two games effortlessly, using linguistic strategies of the conventional approach even while deploying new strategies to demonstrate the limitations of those conventions.
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