A Short Piece
Considering tautologies and a question from O.G. Rose Conversation #77: “Filip Niklas on Artistic Tension, Draggability, and Hegel’s Journey to Where We Are.”
Dr. Filip Niklas is a great mind and conversationalist, and I had the pleasure and honor of learning from him recently, where we covered everything from the tension artists craft into music, the question of how to become more “draggable” from Plato’s Cave, to exploring the nature of “resolution” in Hegel. There is no “easy resolution” in Hegel, and yet at the same time there does seem to be progress: figuring out how both of these truths can be the case is no easy investigation, but with Dr. Niklas, the challenge could be taken on in full confidence that the endeavor would prove fruitful (and I certainly hope to engage in the undertaking with Dr. Niklas again soon).
I
A point that arose in our talk was the idea Dr. Niklas considered on how humans are able to solve problems and yet always remain a mystery to themselves. How is this possible? And does this very condition suggest a problem or a mystery? I found this to be a very provocative question, one that recalled Flannery O’Connor’s notion of mystery, which is something that as we learn more about, we find there is more to know. “Mystery” for O’Connor is not something “we cannot learn anything about,” but something in which we find there is always more to know. Why are humans, regardless how many problems they solve, always mysteries? Walker Percy explored this question in his hilarious and insightful Lost in the Cosmos, and if anything the more we figure out regarding how to build satellites, how to reach the moon, and the like, the more mysterious we become to ourselves. Perhaps as we work and figure everything out, the more undeniable it is that we won’t figure ourselves out (thus intensifying the vividness of the mystery)? All the same, the future awaits.
When the world was less explored, when less technologies existed, and the like, it was perhaps “plausible” that there was some problem out there we could solve, and in so doing, learn the truth about ourselves. But “frontiers” are running out, and it increasingly seems like “mysteriousness” is a feature of what it means to be humans. Where mystery is gone, so humans are gone too, and yet we seem subconsciously trained to think that “mysteries are just problems,” which is to say that “mystery” is not a unique ontological category deserving its own epistemology and “way of holding.”
This is a mistake I think concerned Heidegger, for he saw in Western philosophy a long history and legacy of (autonomous) “problem solving,” as treating things as “means to ends” (“standing reserve”). For Heidegger, this inevitably lead to nihilism, and indeed the loss of mystery does seem to be nihilistic, and yet does this mean we should stop trying to solve problems? No, it means we must learn where it is proper to “solve” and where it is proper to “witness” — failure to learn this skill of “Philosophical Developmentalism” (as I call it) is a mistake of self-effacement.
In this way, we can see Heidegger as a philosopher aware of the necessity to honor and preserve “mystery,” but at the same time it is important that “mystery” never becomes something that feels “unknowable” to us, and instead maintains a (motivating) feeling of being “unknown” (as discussed in O.G. Rose Conversation #76). This is a very difficult balancing act, but one in which Hegel is uniquely able to assist in helping us employ a method of what I call “Phenomenological Pragmaticism,” which invites us to ask, “How is this ‘for’ consciousness?” To explain what I mean, we will now turn to “tautologies.”
II
One mystery that we discussed in our conversation was regarded “tautologies,” which Dr. Niklas noted Hegel was fascinated by. Why though? A tautology is a basic statement that is necessarily true by its own logic, or that is simply repeating the same idea in different ways, adding nothing. For example, if I say, “The car is red,” and present this “as if” the color of the car means something, I might be at risk of a tautology, because cars must be some color, so the fact a car “is” a color doesn’t mean anything in of itself (in a general context). Furthermore, the structure “x = y” is tautological, because it is identical to claiming “y = x,” and yet what fascinates Hegel is why consciousness seems to experience “x = y” and “y = x” as if there is something different about them. Why does consciousness experience it as “significant” that the car is red, seeing as the color could be any color? What is consciousness “trying to say” to itself?
In the comments of the audio summary of this paper, Dr. Niklas pointed out how Hegel saw something tautological in the structure of “explanation” itself, quoting:
‘It is just for that reason that there is so much self-satisfaction in explanation, because the consciousness involved in it is, to put it this way, in an immediate conversation with itself, enjoying only itself. While it undeniably seems to be pursuing something else, it is really just consorting with itself.’ (Phenomenology of Spirit, §163)
Filip eloquently notes how Hegel seems to ‘detect[] in this seemingly ‘useless’ movement […] a hint of infinity at work in consciousness,’ which suggests that “tautologies” point toward a mystery precisely in their “lack of a problem,” per se. Personally, I associate “tautologies” with “A = A”-logic, which would suggest that whenever “A is A” (“A/A” for short), the formulation actually “points beyond itself” at the same time, suggesting that A/A is always such in relation to some “mysterious” B — but more on that at another time.
Anyway, to be clear, A tautology is a statement that, in a sense, presents a problem that it solves in the same breath, so why does consciousness bother to think it? Heidegger taught us that a doorknob that works is one that is “invisible” to us, which is to say that doorknobs are only “visible” when they break. Tautologies “work” by definition, so much so that the very utterance of them can seem like a mistake, for it seems to be “making the fundamentally invisible visible,” and what value ever comes from this act? And yet Hegel suggests there might be something important here: if a given subject and consciousness posited the tautology, then though the premises of the tautology relate to one another in a “solved” and/or “enclosed” way, there is something about how the subject relates to the tautology itself which the consciousness wants to better understand and articulate. There is nothing really that needs to be understood “in” the tautology (that is given), but there is something about how the subject relates “with” the tautology that the consciousness seeks to investigate. What, exactly? Well, that depends on the particular tautology, but here we see how humans solve a problem (for tautologies inherently solve the problem of themselves), and yet we are still left with a mystery, mainly “How is this tautology ‘for’ consciousness gaining understanding about itself?” Precisely where there seems to be no problem to solve, a mystery arises (perhaps because there is no problem to solve to conceal the greater depths).
If I said that, “I am an expert doing this for years,” I am suggesting something tautological, for an expert “by definition” is someone who works on something for years. And yet I felt a need to add “doing this for years” — why? Why didn’t I feel claiming “I am an expert” entailed the point “doing this for years?” Though the statement justifies it’s own logic, there is something going on in how I relate to the statement which suggests something. How is this statement “for” me, per se? Well, if I felt a need to say “for years,” it would suggest that I might live in a society where people can be designated “experts” simply because of a job title, without actually putting in the time; it might mean that I myself am not actually confident in my own expertise, thus why I felt a need to add “doing this for years,” to perhaps convince myself of it; it might mean that I feel as if the person I’m talking to doesn’t believe in my expertise, thus I feel a need to strengthen my claim. And so on — the point is that Hegel would not have us assume that a tautology “says nothing” or that it is meaninglessly repetitive: if a subject made a point to posit x, then we have grounds to ask how x is “for” that consciousness. Though a tautology “solves the problem of itself,” in the “clearing” left by that solution, much more can arise and be considered.
Though slightly different, let’s take a logical premise with a tautological structure, such as “People are animals.” Is that a tautology? Well, it is if it’s true: if people are animals, then we are saying “animals are animals” and/or “people are people,” and so the statement should justify itself. But the statement doesn’t, does it? Why not though? If it was true, it would present itself as “self-evident,” like a doorknob that works, and so the very positing of the statement suggests there is something about it which consciousness is not settled with, which of course begs the question “why?” If I said, “Dogs are animals,” you might yawn, but saying, “Humans are animals,” is far more likely to catch your attention. Why? Are not both statements equally “self-evident?” Not at all, and yet both statements, if in fact true, are tautological, which would suggest that they shouldn’t be noticed or uttered (like a “working doorknob” in Heidegger). And thus their utterance “says something,” either about us or our context. Tautologies “point.”
Indeed, it is hard to imagine a context in which I would say, “Dogs are animals,” in natural everyday life (outside a biology class or something), precisely because the statement is so “given” and self-solving. But the statement, “Humans are animals,” is just as self-solving if true, and indeed the statement is true, and yet there is something that can sit uneasily with us. “What do we mean by animal?” — we might wonder — “Does that means humans are just animals?” And yet the very tautological structure does not, in itself, suggest these questions; rather, we suggest them to ourselves in our relation to the tautology. Why? Well, we might be bothered by the premise. Why? Because we don’t experience ourselves as “mere animals,” perhaps. Why don’t we? Well, because we don’t. And so a “(potential) tautology” opens doors into something consciousness might be telling itself, thus providing us grounds by which to discuss how the statement is “for” consciousness. The statement can make us uncomfortable, and this very feeling can be “for” consciousness insomuch as it unveils that consciousness “is not a thing that likes to be reduced into instincts and brain states.” Consciousness seems to want to see itself as “special,” as capable of things which “other animals” are not capable of, which of course might be a sign of pride and a need for humility, but it also might be evidence that the statement, “Humans are animals,” risks leaving out something fundamental regarding human begins. Perhaps consciousness requires biology to exist, but at the same time it cannot be reduced to biology (a point which recalls “The Vector Theory” of Alexander Elung and work of Alexander Bard).
Regardless, the moment a tautology is uttered, something is said that seems like it doesn’t need to be said, and, precisely because it doesn’t need to be said, the tautology suggests something more is going on. This was Hegel’s insight, and in the utterance of a tautology we can see a consciousness uttering something “for” itself, struggling to determine how it “relates” to the statement which seems to solve itself. Tautologies solve the problem of themselves in themselves, but their very expression suggests a way we “relate” to those tautologies which is worth questioning. A mystery is suggested, and in the tautology being solved in itself, there is yet still reason for us to encounter new problems which will beckon new solutions, precisely because “the mystery” of consciousness (to itself) is maintained. As long as there are mysteries, there will be problems we can seek to solve, and yet will we ever solve enough problems to remove all mystery? How might Hegel answer? Is that a mystery?
III
What is it about humans which makes them capable of solving problems but never solve themselves, per se? Well, if we did, we might lose all motivation to live and so efface ourselves out of being, so the very fact we are still “here” might necessitate the perpetuation of a mystery. All the same, in my view, Hegel suggests there will always be mystery precisely because the best we can hope to achieve is “Absolute Knowing,” which forever places a “limit” on what we can know.
And yet, brilliantly, I believe Hegel makes this “limit” something that we constitute, and so our very encounter of it transforms the limit, meaning there is “always something to do.” We change the mystery in our consideration of it, and so we are the ones who in the act of seeking the mystery (re)create it. It is because of our very “ontoepistemological structure” that no amount of problem solving will ever be the end of mystery, for humans are “mysterious beings.” Mystery is essentially part of us, and perhaps mystery wouldn’t exist if humans weren’t around (yes, there would still be “unknowns” for squirrels, but “mysteries,” endlessly reconstituting products of efforts of intelligibility, might be missing from reality). And it is in the tautology, precisely a point where it seems nothing new is unveiled, that the “infinite (re)constitution,” the “infinite newness,” of the human subject is suggested by our relation to a problem that solves itself. For if logic can be organized in a manner that can “solve itself,” why can’t consciousness do the same? And thus, the tautology is “for” consciousness in that through it the consciousness gains the understanding that it is the infinite source of problems worth solving, not one of life’s problems itself. Suggesting Wittgenstein, ‘[mystery] is not an event in life’; rather, it is life’s horizon.
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