Post-Classical Philosophy

Phenomenology and Hermeneutics

Since the introduction of Humboldt's concept of education in Germany, particularly with the establishment of a new type of university in Berlin (1808), philosophy has occupied a prominent and, in many respects, defining position within the system of sciences and corresponding scientific institutions. However, by the second third of the 19th century, the notion began to take hold that science, rather than philosophy, stands at the forefront of spiritual progress; the requirements applied to the natural sciences—namely, the presence of a stable problematic field, a unified conceptual apparatus, and the cumulative nature of knowledge—should also be extended to philosophy. Hegel's teachings came under criticism, particularly for not accommodating the possibility of infinite development of knowledge. Philosophy itself seemed to acknowledge its new place not "above" but "beside" the natural sciences, focusing increasingly on the development of epistemological issues (Neo-Kantianism). However, by the late 19th century, the situation worsened for philosophy as a new empirical discipline—psychology—expanded its scope to encompass traditional philosophical questions. Psychologists set out to elucidate the essence of thought on naturalistic grounds and gradually displaced philosophers in an organizational sense, increasingly taking charge of philosophical departments.

At the beginning of the 20th century, the phenomenological movement, founded by Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), provided an impetus for a renewed self-awareness of philosophy as a distinct, independent, and rigorously defined (in German, strenge) science.

Husserl refuted the notion that logic (the science of thought) could be viewed as a branch of psychology. First, empirically established rules can only be probabilistic and relative, whereas the laws of logic (such as the law of non-contradiction) are universal. Second, if the laws of logic are purely empirical and arise from the nature of mental (or cerebral) processes, their truth cannot be guaranteed. They may hold within the bounds of empirical consciousness but may not correspond to any realities beyond it, as entirely false assertions can be formed by thought. Thus, the criterion of truth does not reside within thought itself.

The distinction between the act and the content of thought is fundamental. The act of thinking is real and constitutes the subject matter of psychology, while its content is ideal and belongs to the realm of phenomenology.

This content is neither the result of brain activity nor a "complex of sensations," nor is it a "trace" of some external (ontological) circumstance that would manifest in such a manner.

"In the act of will, we produce free variants, each of which, along with the process of variation as a whole, exists in the subjective mode of 'arbitrary.' It then becomes evident that through this multiplicity, a certain unity traverses each successive figure, such that in these free variations of the original image, for example, of a thing, an invariant is necessarily preserved as the essential general form without which such an object as this thing, as an example of its kind, would not be conceivable at all. This universal essence is the eidos, the 'idea' in the Platonic sense, but grasped purely and free from any metaphysical interpretations."

Husserl's "phenomenon," then, is the meaningful unity of experiences in the form of a thing, which constitutes (forms and maintains) and manifests itself in the flow of experience with self-evidence, that is, with necessity. Experience arises as an environment of indicated self-evidence.

Human consciousness is always directed toward an object; it is always consciousness of something. This object-directedness is defined by Husserl as intentionality (from the Latin intentio—intention, purpose). The objectual content (meaning, significance) to which it is directed is termed noema, while the actual composition of the experience (act) is referred to as noesis. Beyond the self-manifestation of the noema, asserting the existence of something is senseless—there is no other "being" than the being of meaning.

Thus, Husserl advances the slogan "Back to the things themselves!" The theoretical content of which lies in the necessity to reveal the primary, unmediated (that is, unfounded) layer of meaning in consciousness by peeling away all previously imposed causal and functional constructions and schemas from everyday life, religion, and science. The principal method of phenomenological investigation becomes the method of "reduction" (from the Latin reduco—to lead back, to recall, to return to oneself, to renew). Phenomenological reduction, or epoché (from the ancient Greek έποχή—to refrain from judgment), signifies the endeavor to eliminate ("bracket," as Husserl states) from philosophical reflections any theoretical assumptions and assertions not supported by obviousness. Thus, phenomenology emerges primarily as a descriptive discipline directed at the objectual meanings given in various modes of consciousness: perception, memory, imagination, judgment, etc., in their immediate unfolding.

Reflection (self-examination) aimed at purifying the primary contents of experience reveals the presence of a common foundation of all possible meanings—the "transcendental ego," which, lacking its own content and thus not subject to description, nonetheless stands as an apodictic (unconditionally certain) necessity. This fundamental thematic field is where any substantial definitions are constituted, along with them—the "I" (as their identical pole) and the "Other," which is a necessary condition for the self-awareness of the individual. The "I" recognizes and knows itself only in the "Other" and through the "Other," while the "Other" exists only in itself and through itself. Husserl designates this mode of identity formation as "analogizing apresentation."

Thus, multisubjectivity emerges as an inherent quality of the structure of consciousness itself. The "Other" is initially constituted as someone for whom the world exists in the same meanings as for myself, whose "subjective reality" is accessible to me, whom I can understand, and who can understand me. "My world" presents itself as a shared, equally open repository of meanings and intentions—not as "subjectivity," but as "intersubjectivity."

In the later period of Husserl's philosophical work, the theme of the "lifeworld" (German: Lebenswelt) becomes paramount—a totality of pre-scientific self-evident and generally understood foundations upon which all meaningful constructs are built. The dominance of positivist rationality and the striving for economic and technological prosperity, characteristic of the second half of the 19th century, led to a crisis for European humanity at the turn of the century and necessitated a reevaluation of the significance of these tendencies in favor of genuine (authentic) humanity. The urgent need for a new science arose, one that would aim to reveal the primary structures of the lifeworld.

Despite Husserl's efforts to endow his philosophy with the traits and characteristics of a rigorous science so that it could find its own special place within the system of scientific knowledge, the phenomenological movement he founded initially lacked both thematic and methodological unity. Phenomenology fragmented into a multitude of schools and directions, some of which were directly opposed to Husserl's project. The most significant contributions to the post-Husserlian development of phenomenological thought came from M. Heidegger, the creator of hermeneutic phenomenology, M. Scheler, who applied the phenomenological method to the exploration of ethical, religious, and philosophical anthropological issues, R. Ingarden, the creator of phenomenological aesthetics, and A. Schütz, who made social phenomena the subject of phenomenological inquiry.

In the realm of phenomenological ideas worked J.-P. Sartre, M. Merleau-Ponty, P. Ricoeur, and E. Levinas. Phenomenology influenced the development of such philosophical movements as existentialism, hermeneutics, and structuralism.

Perhaps phenomenology is most closely associated with hermeneutics.

The term "hermeneutics," in the sense of the art of interpretation, came into widespread use in the 17th century in connection with the spread of Protestantism and its doctrine of "Sola Scriptura," according to which believers, apart from the authority of Holy Tradition, are capable of understanding the Holy Scripture as a certain "self-revealing source." However, it had already been in use in antiquity. The word "hermeneutics" has ancient Greek origins, derived from the Greek έρμηνεύω—to interpret, to understand. Sometimes it is linked to the name of the god Hermes, although such etymology is considered erroneous by researchers. In Aristotle's legacy, we find a treatise dedicated to the fundamental concepts of grammar, in whose title it appears ("On Interpretation"—Περί έρμηνείας). In Clement of Alexandria's "Stromata," the term is used to describe how thought manifests itself in language.

The emergence of hermeneutics as a scientific discipline is associated with the name of Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834). Schleiermacher defines hermeneutics as the theory of understanding. Previously, it existed as a variety of specialized hermeneutics (in the interpretation of legislation, literature, and scripture), but the task of hermeneutics as a theoretical discipline is to elucidate the unified principles common to all these “branch” manifestations of understanding. What we strive to comprehend in hermeneutic effort is the meaning of an expression, that is, the thought embedded within it; hence, the subject of interpretation is language. Schleiermacher reveals the so-called hermeneutic circle: we cannot understand a whole expression until we grasp the parts of which it is composed, yet the parts disclose their true meaning only when we comprehend the whole.

The presence of the hermeneutic circle is particularly evident in the development of historical knowledge when attempting to understand other historical periods—since the present invariably influences our perception of the past, manifesting itself as persistently "present" within it. This last notion serves as the starting point for Wilhelm Dilthey's (1833-1911) reflections. The problem he raises concerns how historical experience can become a science. The first condition for historical science, asserts the thinker, is that the researcher themselves must be a historical person; thus, history is studied by one who creates it. Consequently, through historical cognition, the subject and object of the historical process converge. Unlike the subject of knowledge in the natural sciences, which "explain nature," the researcher of the historical process finds themselves implicated in it and can only "understand" it through this defined involvement.

Martin Heidegger (1889-1976), a pupil of E. Husserl, transformed hermeneutics into a philosophical discipline and introduced profound philosophical ideas into it. This transformation is based on a peculiar “turning of foundations”: traditionally, hermeneutics regards interpretation as a means of understanding. According to Heidegger, understanding is primary (given beforehand), while interpretation is tasked with deepening and expanding it. The goal of Heidegger's principal philosophical work, "Being and Time," as articulated by the author himself, is to answer the question, "What does it mean to be?" and thus, to discover (or realize) the meaning of being. Such a quest is pursued through the interpretation of a specific mode of being—namely, human being (Dasein).

For Heidegger, being is that which reveals itself within itself—essentially, the phenomenon in its primordial, ancient Greek interpretation. Dasein (the identification of the individual with itself against the backdrop of a defined self-revelation) finds itself "in the world of present entities," which "conceals" its own being. A defining characteristic of human existence is its finitude in time—its transience, temporality, and historicity—which mediates all practical and theoretical modes of human world-relating.

However, the truth of being (for Heidegger, primarily the Greek Αλήθεια, or unconcealment) can only reveal itself in the presence of Dasein and must become its goal. In light of this, a hermeneutic redefinition of phenomenology occurs: since being is indeed a phenomenon, the primary function of logos (word) is to allow that which reveals itself to appear in language. In E. Husserl's view, phenomenology was considered "a word about the phenomenon"; for Heidegger, it becomes "a word given to the phenomenon"—an articulation of being, without which the latter remains mute beneath (or below) entities. Thus, language clarifies its congruence with being (in it, being expresses itself in a manner intrinsic to itself) and is conceived as the dwelling or abode of being.

According to Heidegger, the error of the rational approach to reality, which constitutes the ideal of scientific objectivity, lies in its limitation of our cognitive aspirations to the realm of entities. Heidegger develops the idea of the factuality of Dasein. In Neo-Kantianism, the concept of factuality was employed as the opposite of atemporal logicality—to denote the unique, the irreplaceable, the singular. For Heidegger, to ascribe a substantial character to Dasein, we must recognize its factuality. The semantic opposite of factuality in Heidegger's thought is the concept of "the they" ("das Man"), which characterizes the everyday—“inauthentic”—being of the individual, surrendered to the interpretations of others—whether these be established thoughts or scientific theories.

The final formation of the project of philosophical hermeneutics occurs in the early 1960s and is associated with the name of the German philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-2002). He adopts Heidegger's idea of understanding as a mode of human existence, but unlike him, he does not focus on existential structures, making language the space of understanding and practice his subject matter.

In language, the objective and subjective converge. It simultaneously belongs to the world and our understanding; it is both an act and a perception. "What we note by the word, namely, the meaning through which we refer to being, is something universal that remains unchanged. The meaning offers something more than merely pointing to what is given in actual perception. If what is given is named by the word, it is simultaneously interpreted as something general. Through this, I can consider it given to me by the very act of speaking, even without something similar being presented to my sensations." Furthermore: "Language... as that which endows with name, is the first understanding possession of the world." Language, therefore, serves, according to Gadamer, as a priori condition for any act of understanding, simultaneously as the medium for its realization and the culmination found in the total "articulation" of the world. Thus, it is not Dasein that possesses language; rather, it is language that encompasses Dasein; human presence in the world reveals itself precisely in and through language.

There are no hierarchical relations between language and the world. The word is a form that allows things to be perceived as phenomena. The mode of existence of language is dialogue, which unfolds like a game (which, according to Gadamer's definition, is "a living movement without substrate"), drawing participants into its orbit and touching upon "the very essence of the matter," enabling words to acquire fullness of meaning and reveal truth. Here, an event of understanding takes place that leaves none of the participants as they were before. Dialogue is the central concept of Gadamerian hermeneutics.

For Gadamer, a paradigmatic "event of understanding" is the encounter with a work of art. Art offers no utility, and it does not conceal this. Thus, in its absolute otherness and incomprehensibility, it presents itself as an open question directed at us, to which we are compelled to respond, engaging our entire personal potential. Therefore, it becomes evident that the dialogical nature pertains not only to relationships between individuals but also to the relations between individuals and things. The work of art becomes our interlocutor, no less active than another person—neither an object nor a subject, entirely equal to the one perceiving it. Yet the purpose of dialogue with a work of art is not the exchange of thoughts, nor the formation of an image, nor aesthetic enjoyment. "The dialectic of experience reaches its true culmination not in any final knowledge but in the openness of experience that arises from the experience itself." The openness to experience, referred to here by Gadamer, is a situation in which "language looks into us," paraphrasing a well-known expression of F. Nietzsche. The search for factuality initiated by Heidegger culminates in Gadamer's work, culminating in the awareness of one's rootedness in language and belonging to it.