Dialoguing with analytic philosophy is difficult, because what analytic philosophy does best is precise argument over fine details, and it is all too easy to get drawn into the minutiae of a specific problem. We can hold the opposite view from certain analytic philosophers, but by then we have often already walked into their trap. Just as there are surely all kinds of opposing views within analytic philosophy itself, endlessly debated with great fervor, they especially welcome opposing views; then you present your rigorous argument, accept refutation one point by one point, and still have to consider countless possible counterexamples not yet raised. In this way, once you have won an argument with an analytic philosopher on some issue, you have already joined their club.
As Teacher Wu said, analytic philosophy is very much like scholastic philosophy back in the day: both love subtle and cumbersome debates, thinking through all kinds of possibilities, but not caring about the final conclusion, or even, in fact, about the search for truth. The scholastics could debate all kinds of religious tenets, consider their other possibilities, and in the end reach little agreement; turning back, they would still continue to revere the doctrines of the Church and the Bible. Now Christianity has merely been replaced by science, and analytic philosophers are still debating with great excitement; they will consider all kinds of possibilities, but in the end modern science is still what gets revered.
Of course, what I mean is not simply to mock analytic philosophy. Our view of the Middle Ages should long since have changed; we no longer regard scholastic philosophy as a dark and ignorant activity, but fully recognize its great significance and lofty spirit. It laid the groundwork for modern science and modern philosophy, preparing a rich stock of concepts and ideas. Perhaps analytic philosophy is similar in this respect: it prepares the soil of concepts, waiting for later generations to cultivate new worlds from it.
But after all, analytic philosophy and scholastic philosophy both have a certain congenital deficiency. This does not lie in which specific claims they uphold, nor in whether their claims—for instance, whether angels occupy space or do not occupy space—are flawed. Rather, it lies in the entire mode of discussion, in certain deeply rooted habits and prejudices hidden behind the pattern of discourse, which make it impossible for a new philosophical world to unfold within them; one must break the whole framework, even leap beyond its tradition, before such a thing becomes possible.
Of course, this is only my personal feeling. As for what “meta” difficulties analytic philosophy specifically has, I only have some very personal impressions. What I have gathered from some analytic philosophical texts I have occasionally encountered, and from a newer analytic philosophy paper I came across today, I will simply mention in passing.
The three meta-disagreements I have currently summed up are roughly these:
The first is shameless symbolization. For example, “at time t,” “event x,” “object O,” “proposition P,” and so on. Such language is utterly natural in analytic philosophical discussion, as if one were not speaking rigorously unless one spoke this way. But to me it carries huge problems. The difference between expressions like “at time t” and “at some time,” “there is a moment,” “that time,” and so on is not merely one of brevity versus precision, but a manifestation of some basic difference in worldview. Time, moments, places, directions, and so on should first and foremost be grasped as a kind of actual referential relation, rather than as something already fixed and determinate sitting there. A “moment” is not originally just a “point” on a time axis, nor is a thing some independent X standing all alone before you. This is not to say that my philosophy, or phenomenology, or any similar philosophical school fundamentally opposes such symbolization or labeling. Abstraction is always permitted, but an abstract formulation must necessarily be the result of some interruption and extraction. It is possible to extract a “moment,” say “when I observed blue,” into “moment t,” but not unconditionally, and not without cost. What exactly is paid for in this process of extraction remains to be discussed further, but first we have to take this way of describing things seriously.
The second is the God’s-eye view. That is, analytic philosophy often describes things from the perspective of an abstract “human” or from some entirely outside, neutral standpoint. Phenomenology, by contrast, asks questions on the basis of “I” or subjectivity. Of course, this subjectivity has absolutely nothing to do with so-called subjective arbitrariness or acting however one likes; rather, it is much closer to the concept of “finitude.” I won’t say more for now.
The third is the Platonism of logic. Or, to put it differently, logical supremacism. I have long pointed out that so-called logical empiricism or logical positivism is in fact “logic + empiricism,” “logic + positivism,” and the world of logic transcends empiricism or positivism. A piece of logical reasoning is completely different from an experiment or an observation; it does not occur within space and time. The dogmas of empiricism and positivism do not apply to logical laws or to the process of logical deduction.
Let me leave these issues here for the moment. Merely speaking in the abstract, I’m afraid there won’t be much to be felt; we can look at them in concrete texts.
May 13, 2011
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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