(Contributions To Phenomenology 101.) Taguchi, Shigeru - Warren, Nicolas de - New Phenomenological Studies in Japan-Springer (2019)

Contributions To Phenomenology 101
Nicolas de Warren
Shigeru Taguchi Editors
New
Phenomenological
Studies in Japan
Contributions To Phenomenology
In Cooperation with The Center

for Advanced Research in Phenomenology
Volume 101
Series Editors
Nicolas de Warren, Pennsylvania State University, PA, USA
Ted Toadvine, Pennsylvania State University, PA, USA
Editorial Board
Lilian Alweiss, Trinity College Dublin, Ireland
Elizabeth Behnke, Ferndale, WA, USA
Rudolfh Bernet, Husserl Archive, KU Leuven, Belgium
David Carr, Emory University, GA, USA
Chan-Fai Cheung, Chinese University Hong Kong, China
James Dodd, New School University, NY, USA
Lester Embree, Florida Atlantic University, FL, USA
Alfredo Ferrarin, Università di Pisa, Italy
Burt Hopkins, University of Lille, France
José Huertas-Jourda, Wilfrid Laurier University, Canada
Kwok-Ying Lau, Chinese University Hong Kong, China
Nam-In Lee, Seoul National University, Korea
Rosemary R.P. Lerner, Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú, Peru
Dieter Lohmar, University of Cologne, Germany
William R. McKenna, Miami University, OH, USA
Algis Mickunas, Ohio University, OH, USA
J.N. Mohanty, Temple University, PA, USA
Junichi Murata, University of Tokyo, Japan
Thomas Nenon, The University of Memphis, TN, USA
Thomas M. Seebohm, Johannes Gutenberg-Universität, Germany
Gail Soffer, Rome, Italy
Anthony Steinbock, Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, IL, USA
Shigeru Taguchi, Hokkaido University, Japan
Dan Zahavi, University of Copenhagen, Denmark
Richard M. Zaner, Vanderbilt University, TN, USA
Scope
The purpose of the series is to serve as a vehicle for the pursuit of phenomenological
research across a broad spectrum, including cross-over developments with other
fields of inquiry such as the social sciences and cognitive science. Since its
establishment in 1987, Contributions to Phenomenology has published more than
80 titles on diverse themes of phenomenological philosophy. In addition to
welcoming monographs and collections of papers in established areas of scholarship,
the series encourages original work in phenomenology. The breadth and depth of
the Series reflects the rich and varied significance of phenomenological thinking for
seminal questions of human inquiry as well as the increasingly international reach
of phenomenological research.
The series is published in cooperation with The Center for Advanced Research in
Phenomenology.
More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/5811

Nicolas de Warren • Shigeru Taguchi
Editors
New Phenomenological
Studies in Japan
Editors
Nicolas de Warren Shigeru Taguchi
Department of Philosophy Faculty of Humanities and Human Sciences
Pennsylvania State University Hokkaido University
Pennsylvania, PA, USA Sapporo, Japan
ISSN 0923-9545 ISSN 2215-1915 (electronic)

Contributions To Phenomenology
ISBN 978-3-030-11892-1 ISBN 978-3-030-11893-8 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8
© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019

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Introduction
Ever since the initial reception of Husserl’s thinking at the beginning of the twenti-
eth century, the development of phenomenological research in Japan has steadily
and fruitfully engaged multiple movements of phenomenological thought. Already
in the early 1920s, Japanese philosophers began to study in Germany with Husserl
and/or Heidegger. To name the more significant and influential figures, Tanabe,
Kuki, Miki, and Watsuji not only enthusiastically embraced the spirit of phenome-
nology but equally confronted the actual forms of phenomenology developed by
European philosophers. These philosophical confrontations led this generation of
Japanese thinkers to formulate their own original views of philosophy. As an intro-
duction to the collection of contemporary Japanese thinkers gathered together in
this volume, our aim here is to sketch the historical reception of phenomenology in
Japan. This admittedly cursory survey is meant to offer the reader a broader horizon
for a better understanding of particular tendencies, approaches, and interests repre-
sented in New Phenomenological Studies in Japan.
ishida and Tanabe: Two Dominant Figures in Modern

N
Japanese Philosophy
Not even ten years after the publication of Husserl’s Logical Investigations
(1900/01), Husserl’s nascent phenomenology was already referenced in Japan.
Kitaro Nishida (1870–1945), widely considered to be the most important Japanese
philosopher before the World War II, is arguably the first philosopher who intro-
duced Husserl to Japanese scholars. Nishida was a highly original thinker in his own
right, who was steeped in East Asian intellectual cultures and professionally trained
in Western philosophy. With his broad knowledge and insightful understanding of
the entire span of Western thought from its Greek origins, Nishida recognized the
significance of Husserl’s philosophical endeavor. In his article on “The Claims of
the Pure Logic School of Epistemology” (1911), Nishida referenced Husserl’s
v
vi Introduction
phenomenology. Yet Nishida considered that Husserl’s thinking shared marked

affinities with Neo-Kantians such as Rickert and thus referred to this entire group-
ing of German thought as “the pure logic school,” which he understood as seeking
to define objective truth independently of any empirical-psychological facts. More
intense study of Husserl’s thought allowed Nishida to grasp its specifically phenom-
enological character. With this newfound appreciation, Nishida perceived a com-
monality with his own conception of “pure experience” while nonetheless remaining
critical of Husserlian phenomenology. This affinity between phenomenology and
Nishida’s thinking had easily been forgotten or overlooked, until the more recent
research of Yoshihiro Nitta (1929–), who recognized Husserl’s importance for
Nishida, claimed that Husserl’s phenomenology is important for an elucidation of
Nishida’s thinking. Nitta’s scholarship proved essential for establishing this connec-
tion between Husserl and Nishida within the contemporary scene of Japanese
phenomenology.
The transformation in Nishida’s thinking that centered on his breakthrough con-
ception of basho (place) placed once again Husserl’s phenomenology in a different,
more critical light. Nishida became critical of Husserl’s conception of conscious-
ness for merely representing what is thought of as consciousness. According to
Nishida, however, consciousness is not what we are conscious of but the conscious-
ness that itself is conscious or the “being conscious itself” that lies at the bottom of
the consciousness in contrast to transcendent objects. Nishida’s conception of con-
sciousness offers a suggestive partner in a broader phenomenological dialogue con-
cerning the scope of consciousness and its temporalization.
In contrast to Nishida, Hajime Tanabe (1985–1963), Nishida’s successor to the
Chair of Philosophy at Kyoto University, assessed phenomenology to be a highly
creative philosophy that formed one of the representative trends in European phi-
losophy in the twentieth century.1 Whereas Nishida did not have the opportunity to
study abroad, Tanabe went to Germany in 1922 to study in Berlin with Alois Riehl,
an important Neo-Kantian philosopher at the time. During the 1920s, Neo-
Kantianism was popular in Japan, with Tanabe as one of its most sympathetic advo-
cates. Soon after arriving in Germany in 1922, Tanabe discovered the many ways in
which phenomenology was intensely debated and discussed in Europe. Shortly after
his arrival, Tanabe moved to Freiburg to study with Husserl. While attending
Husserl’s seminars and lectures, Tanabe rapidly assimilated phenomenological
thinking. More thrilling for him was the encounter with Heidegger, who at the time
was Husserl’s assistant. Tanabe immediately recognized the outstanding signifi-
cance of Heidegger’s new interpretation of phenomenology.
Upon his return to Japan in 1924, Tanabe gave lectures and published articles on
phenomenology. In his article “A New Turn in Phenomenology: Heidegger’s
Phenomenology of Life” (1924), Tanabe stressed how Heidegger’s reinterpretation
of phenomenology could compensate for the weakness of Husserlian phenomenol-
ogy and thereby open new philosophical possibilities. According to Tanabe,
1
Tanabe was not properly speaking Nishida’s student. Nishida was instead a private mentor for
Tanabe.
Introduction vii
Husserl’s method cannot satisfactorily fulfill its original demand for concreteness
(Sachlichkeit). This demand could, however, be more adequately addressed with
Heidegger’s hermeneutic phenomenology. In this article of 1924, Tanabe provided
a detailed report of Heidegger’s 1923 Summer Semester Lectures in Marburg.
Tanabe’s presentation of Heidegger’s thinking is surprisingly accurate given that
Heidegger had at that time published little, and none of his lectures.
According to Tanabe, Heidegger’s phenomenology as “self-understanding and
self-interpretation of Dasein” proved more promising than Husserl’s. Nevertheless,
Tanabe criticized Heidegger’s thinking for neglecting the spatiality of Dasein with
its overemphasis on temporality. Furthermore, a central dimension of reality seemed
to be ignored in Heidegger’s phenomenology: the body (even if Heidegger would
eventually address the body in the Zollikon Seminars from 1959). For Tanabe, the
body is a cardinal point of reference insofar as it mediates between subjective
“inner” experience and objective transcendent existence. The body functions as a
medium of the free actions of ego in its environment and constitutes the “front edge
of the self-manifestation of transcendent being” (Tanabe 1931 [1963]: 345). Even as
Tanabe stressed the function of the body, he did not proceed to develop a fully-
fledged phenomenology of the body in the manner of Merleau-Ponty but developed
instead a philosophy of dialectical intersection between apparently contradictory
phenomena, such as immanence and transcendence, relativity and absoluteness, and
time and eternity. Tanabe’s thinking would develop farther afield from phenomenol-
ogy, and yet, as reflected in this volume (Taguchi), his concept of “mediation” might
have an impact on the future development of phenomenology.
ew Generation: The Assimilation of Husserlian

N
Phenomenology
For both Nishida and Tanabe, phenomenology represented a novel development in

European philosophy, which they could not, however, completely accept. Both
thinkers, instead, leveraged phenomenology to develop their own respective philo-
sophical approaches. A younger generation of Japanese thinkers adopted a different
attitude. Phenomenology already stood before them as a highly attractive trend. In
the 1920s and1930s, a sizeable contingent of Japanese scholars arrived in Germany
to study with Husserl and Heidegger. This phenomenon was jestingly referred to as
the “Freiburg Pilgrimages.”2 Three thinkers from this generation who eagerly
assimilated Husserlian phenomenology are noteworthy.
Satomi Takahashi (1886–1964) studied under Husserl. His memoirs offer lively
images of Husserl and his relationship with young scholars from Japan. The master
gave special attention to these students from Japan, which became more and more
important to him. Before Takahashi came to Freiburg in 1926, Husserl had in fact
2
The original Japanese is “Freiburg moude,” which is a pun for “Freiburg-Mode” in German. Both
words are pronounced in a similar manner.
viii Introduction
received an invitation to visit Japan, which, however, he was unable to accept.

Instead, Husserl wrote his celebrated articles for the Japanese journal Kaizo.
Originally planned to include five articles, Husserl only managed to complete three.
In turning to a Japanese audience in the years after the First World War, Husserl took
this opportunity to outline the ethical and cultural mission of phenomenological
philosophy. These articles represent a rare published presentation of Husserl’s ethi-
cal thinking in its historical self-understanding.
Husserl expected that Japan would become a promised land of phenomenology
through the efforts of his young missionaries. He often invited Japanese students to
his house for special private lectures. He was apparently not willing to waste a min-
ute even during coffee breaks. Takahashi was struck by the gravitas of his master,
who literally “lived phenomenology no matter where he was” (Takahashi 1931,
107). It is reported that Husserl once declared to his Japanese students that they
should not be satisfied with taking a walk through fields cultivated by other philoso-
phers. Husserl advised instead that they should work hard on turning even just one
furrow of philosophy by themselves rather than just looking around Western culture
as if on a trip of intellectual sightseeing (Takahashi 1931, 112). On another occa-
sion, as recounted by Takahashi, Husserl informed his students that he was not will-
ing to make a new philosophical school. As he said, “the best I can give you is not
my completed theory, but a ‘liberated thinking’” (Takahashi 1931, 113).
Risaku Mutai (1890–1974) is another Japanese philosopher who studied with
Husserl. According to his memoir, Husserl once said that if there was a place in the
world outside of Germany where phenomenology would flourish, it must be Japan
(Mutai 1940, 326–327). Mutai also notes an impressive episode. One day at the
Freiburg train station, Mutai happened to encounter his master, who wore shorts and
carried a backpack. Husserl’s wife and his assistant accompanied him. They and
Mutai traveled together to Basel. In the train, Husserl was continuously talking
about phenomenology. The compartment was changed into an improvised seminar
room (Mutai 1940, 327–328). As with Takahashi, Mutai was equally struck by
Husserl’s seriousness and inexhaustible perseverance and considered the openness
of Husserl’s thinking as one of the principle reasons for its attraction among
Japanese intellectuals.
Tomoo Otaka (1899–1956) represents another Japanese philosopher who studied
with Husserl in Freiburg, as well as with Hans Kelsen in Vienna. Versed in the phi-
losophy of law, Otaka formed a strong personal and intellectual relationship with
Alfred Schutz (1899–1959). In fact, two of their books were published in the same
year 1932: Otaka’s Grundlegung der Lehre vom sozialen Verband and Schutz’s Der
sinnhafte Aufgabe der sozialen Welt.3 Each work acknowledged the other. Schutz
reviewed Otaka’s work in 1937 (Schutz 1937). The publication of Schutz’s book
was financially supported by Otaka (who came from a wealthy family). Otaka’s
work was strongly influenced by phenomenology, especially by the ideas of Husserl
and Schutz. The phenomenological tradition entered through Otaka into legal
Otaka dedicated his work to Husserl.

3
Introduction ix
s tudies in Japan, as centered on the University of Tokyo, where Otaka played a sig-
nificant role.
eidegger’s Impact on Japanese Philosophy: Kuki, Miki,

H
Watsuji
In addition to the growing influence of Husserlian phenomenology in Japan during

the 1920s and 1930s through the teaching and writings of Takahashi, Mutai, and
others, Japanese philosophers who had passed through their “Freiburg Pilgrimage”
also began to take note of Heidegger’s thinking and introduce Heidegger to Japan.
One of the most prominent among this group is Shuzo Kuki (1888–1941), whose
most famous work is his treatise on Japanese aesthetics and the notion of Iki (chic)
in his The Structure of Iki (1930; Kuki 1997), written under the influence of
Heidegger’s Sein und Zeit. Kuki attempted a hermeneutic-phenomenological analy-
sis of Japanese aesthetic taste, which has since been recognized as an indispensable
contribution to aesthetic theory and especially subtle work in Japanese aesthetics.
Kuki resided in Germany and France for eight years (1921–1929). After studying
with Rickert in Freiburg, Kuki moved to Paris in 1924 to learn French and to study
philosophy with Jean-Paul Sartre, whom he hired as a private teacher.4 In 1927,
Kuki returned to Germany to study with Husserl and Heidegger. In Unterwegs zur
Sprache (1959), Heidegger looks back to Kuki’s visit to his home where they dis-
cussed the Japanese aesthetic concept of Iki. Before returning to Japan in 1929,
Kuki met Bergson in 1928. Upon his return to Japan, Kuki introduced French phi-
losophy, Heidegger’s thinking, and existentialism to Japanese readers through his
teaching at Kyoto University and publications. In 1936, Kuki invited Karl Löwith,
who was escaping from Nazi persecution to Japan, where he would, laregely with
Kuki’s support, obtain a professorship at Tohoku University in Sendai until 1941—
the year of Kuki’s death.
As with other Japanese thinkers under the influence of Heidegger, Kuki was an
outstanding interpreter of Heidegger’s philosophy, who argued, however, as did
Tanabe, that spatiality is as fundamental for Dasein as temporality. Kuki considered
that Heidegger’s underestimation of spatiality was connected to the lack of any
significant role for Mitdasein in Heidegger’s thinking of Being and Time. As Kuki
proposed, the encounter with others necessarily takes place through the mediation
of space-giving “distance” (Kuki 1981, 37–38). In this light, the present and contin-
gency are much more important than Heidegger believed since we can only encoun-
ter others in the present and this encounter is marked by contingency (Kuki 1981,
268–270).
Kiyoshi Miki (1897–1945) studied with Heidegger in Marburg in 1923–1924.
The imprint of Heidegger’s thiking on Miki’s writings is clearly evident, especially
See Light 1987 for details.

4
x Introduction
on his first work, A Study of Humanity in Pascal (1926). Miki’s hermeneutical and
existential approach to Pascal stressed the condition of human existence as sus-
pended “in the middle” and marked by “anxiety” and “unrest.” Human existence
floats unsteadily between two abysses: infinity and nothingness (Miki 1966, 18).
Philosophy is nothing other than a self-disclosure and self-awakening of human
existence from its slumbering self-obliviousness. After an engagement with Marxist
philosophy, Miki developed his own idea of “historical primal logic of action” and,
on this basis, investigated the significance of “technique” (and “technology”) for
human existence and the world. The reality of the world is both subjective and
objective. Every human action is technical. In this sense, technology is not simply
the application of scientific knowledge to reality. Rather, the world becomes
renewed in its form as a world through the creative action of technology (Miki
1967). Miki’s thought proved widely influential among intellectuals in Japan before
the Second World War and, in this respect, exemplifies how phenomenology, with a
particular emphasis on Heidegger, implicitly shaped Japanese intellectual culture.
Tetsuro Watsuji (1889–1960) is yet another key figure in prewar Japan. Before
arriving in Germany in 1927, Watsuji already enjoyed an established reputation in
Japan for his books and articles, which included several bestsellers. During his stay
in Germany, Watsuji did not, as with many of his compatriots, study with either
Husserl or Heidegger but preferred instead to remain in his boarding room immersed
in books. This relative seclusion from the German academic environment did not
prevent the entrance of phenomenological ways into his thinking by means of his
extensive reading. He was especially influenced by Heidegger’s hermeneutic phe-
nomenology. During his sea voyages between Japan and Europe, Watsuji collected
and reflected upon his impressions from the many ports of call (South China, India,
Singapore, Arab countries, and Mediterranean countries). Inspired by these exten-
sive travels and experiences of diverse climates and cultures, Watsuji developed an
original style of philosophical thinking in combination with Heidegger’s existential
analysis of Dasein. Central to his thinking is the claim of the inseparability of
human existence from its climate and environment, as presented in his most well-
known work Fudo (1935; Watsuji 1961). As with Tanabe and Kuki, Watsuji equally
emphasized the spatiality of Dasein against the primacy of temporality in
Heidegger’s Sein und Zeit.
Watsuji is also known for his characteristic theory of ethics, which he developed
in Ethics as Science of Human Being (1934) and his three-volume Ethics
(1937/1942/1949; Watsuji 1996). Influenced by Heidegger’s analysis of Dasein,
Watsuji argues that the fundamental phenomenon for such an analysis should not be
an individualized Dasein but the “in-between” or “betweenness” (Aida in Japanese)”
of human beings. Watsuji points to the fact that Ningen, the most common Japanese
word for human beings, is composed of two Chinese characters that mean “person”
and “between,” respectively. The “human being” is nothing other than the “between
person and person” (or “betweenness of multiple persons”). An individual person
and the whole of community (or society) are each abstract if they are taken sepa-
rately. The true concrete phenomenon of a human being consists in the “ betweenness”
Introduction xi
itself. Consequently, for Watsuji’s philosophy, the fundamental science is not ontol-
ogy of Dasein but ethics as a science of humanity.
Postwar Flourishings
Ever since the generation of Japanese thinkers during the 1920s and 1930s, the pres-
ence of phenomenological thinking in Japan has always benefited from crosscur-
rents of different intellectual and cultural influences, including the indigenous
traditions of Buddhism. After the Second World War, interest in phenomenology
waned, however, due to the growing presence of existentialism. The 1960s and
1970s witnessed a renewed enthusiasm in phenomenology, not only among scholars
and intellectuals but also among a wide range of students, who were especially
interested in social reformation. The phenomenological writings of Yoshihiro Nitta
(1929–) and Gen Kida (1928–2014), for example, became bestsellers.
Since the 1970s and 1980s, interactions between Japanese philosophers and their
Western counterparts in Europe and North America have been increasing. Japanese
scholars have continued to critically assimilate and creatively engage recent trends
in philosophy in the West, including the methods and terminologies of Anglo-Saxon
philosophy. In 1980, Yoshihiro Nitta, Hirotaka Tatematsu (1931–2016), and other
colleagues founded the Phenomenological Association of Japan (PAJ). It soon
became one of the largest philosophical associations in Japan. In contrast to Europe
and North America, where phenomenology is arguably less popular than in the hey-
day of its inception and reception in the decades immediately after the Second
World War, phenomenology remains one of the dominant orientations of philoso-
phy in contemporary Japan. In 2018, the PAJ has a membership of more than 440,
which represents a considerable contingent of Japanese philosophers. The past
decades have also seen a marked increase in international exchanges and confer-
ences in Japan. Since 2007, there exists an official exchange between the PAJ and
the Nordic Society for Phenomenology, as well as a similar exchange with the
Korean Society for Phenomenology. In 1989, a group of phenomenologists in the
United States and Japan began to organize a Japanese/American Phenomenology
Conference, which has since been held five times in the United States and Japan.
Given the rise of interest in phenomenology in China, recent years have seen the
establishment of several groups of East Asian phenomenologists, including East
Asian Network for Phenomenology, bringing together a younger generation of
Chinese, Korean, and Japanese scholars. These various initiatives and institutions
testify to the broad and diverse communication and fertilization between the con-
temporary scene of phenomenology in Japan and other countries.
It is against this background that the aim of this collection of essays is to offer to
an English language public a representative cross-section of the current advances in
phenomenological thinking in Japan. Although many of the authors included in this
collection have established reputations in their respective fields of philosophy, this
collection fills an important lacuna by bringing together in one volume an array of
xii Introduction
specialists from different areas of phenomenological research. The authors brought

together in this volume belong to a relatively young generation of researchers.
Although this new generation cannot be subsumed under any single orientation,
schooling, or interest, what characterizes this constellation of research is the inter-
section of various directions in phenomenological thought: Classical German phe-
nomenology (Husserl and Heidegger), the early phenomenological schools of the
Munich and Göttingen Circles, and French phenomenology (Merleau-Ponty,
Levinas, Derrida, Marion). This philosophical landscape is further enhanced by
influences stemming from psychiatry, nursing science, Judaic and Islamic philoso-
phy, and Japanese philosophy. A prominent feature of this generation of phenome-
nological study in Japan is its critical interaction with analytic philosophy. This
critical interaction with Anglo-Saxon approaches in philosophy is well represented
in this volume with the contributions of Uemura, Yaegashi, Sato, Tomiyama, Akiba,
and Ikeda. The resulting constellation amply testifies to the vibrancy and diversity
of research interests, methods, and modes of argumentation among Japanese phe-
nomenologists today.
In addition to our gratitude to the contributors to this volume, we wish to express
our gratitude to Richard Stone, whose expert editing of these papers proved timely
and invaluable to its completion.
Pennsylvania, PA, USA Nicolas de Warren

Sapporo, Japan Shigeru Taguchi
September 2018
References
Kuki, Shuzo. 1981. Kuki Shuzo Zenshu [Collected Works], vol. 3, Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Kuki, Shuzo. 1997. Reflections on Japanese Taste: The Structure of Iki. Sydney: Power Publications.
Light, Stephen. 1987. Shuzo Kuki and Jean-Paul Sartre: Influence and Counter-Influence in
the Early History of Existential Phenomonology (Journal of the History of Philosophy
Monographs), Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press.
Miki, Kiyoshi. 1966. Miki Kiyoshi Zenshu [Collected Works], vol. 1. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Miki, Kiyoshi. 1967. Miki Kiyoshi Zenshu [Collected Works], vol. 8. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Mutai. 1940. Hyogen to Ronri [Expression and Logic]. Tokyo: Kobundo Shobo.
Otaka, Tomoo. 1932. Grundlegung der Lehre vom sozialen Verband. Vienna: Springer.
Schutz, Alfred. 1932. Der sinnhafte Aufbau der sozialen Welt: Eine Einleitung in die verstehende
Soziologie. Vienna: Springer.
Schutz, Alfred. 1937. Tomoo Otakas Gründlegüng der Lehre vom sozialen Verband. In Zeitschrift
für öffentliches Recht, Band XVII, 64–84. (English translation [by Fred Kersten]: Schutz,
Alfred. 1996. The Foundations of the Theory of Social Organization, In Collected Papers, vol.
IV, 203–220. Dordrecht: Springer).
Takahashi, Satomi. 1931. Husserl no Genshogaku [Husserl’s Phenomenology]. Tokyo: Daiichi
Shobo.
Tanabe, Hajime. 1963. Tanabe Hajime Zenshu [Collected Works], vol. 3. Tokyo: Chikuma Shobo.
Watsuji, Tetsuro. 1961. Climate and Culture: A Philosophical Study. Trans. Geoffrey Bownas.
Westport: Greenwood Press.
Watsuji, Tetsuro. 1996. Watsuji Tetsuro’s Rinrigaku: Ethics in Japan. Trans. Yamamoto Seisaku
and Robert E. Carter. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Contents
Akrasia and Practical Rationality: A Phenomenological Approach �� 1

Takashi Yoshikawa
How Is Time Constituted in Consciousness?
Theories of Apprehension in Husserl’s Phenomenology of Time�� 17
Norio Murata
Things and Reality: A Problem for Husserl’s
Theory of Constitution�� 29
Takeshi Akiba
On the Transcendence and Reality of Husserlian Objects �� 45
Yutaka Tomiyama
Neither One Nor Many: Husserl on the Primal Mode of the I�� 57
Shigeru Taguchi
A Husserlian Account of the Affective Cognition of Value�� 69
Toru Yaegashi
Husserl on Experience, Expression, and Reason�� 83
Shun Sato
Phantasieleib and the Method of Phenomenological
Qualitative Research�� 95
Yasuhiko Murakami
Martin Heidegger and the Question of Translation�� 105
Takashi Ikeda
Heidegger’s Transcendental Ontology
and His Interpretation of Kant �� 121
Norio Murai
xiii
xiv Contents
Demystifying Roman Ingarden’s Purely Intentional

Objects of Perception�� 139
Genki Uemura
Truth and Sincerity: The Concept of Truth
in Levinas’ Philosophy �� 163
Shojiro Kotegawa
Phenomenology, Metaphysics and Comparative
Philosophy. Sketch for a Positive Phenomenology�� 173
Shin Nagai
About the Editors
Nicolas de Warren (Ph.D., Boston University) is Associate Professor of Philosophy

at Pennsylvania State University. Among his numerous publications in phenome-
nology, history of philosophy, literature, and continental thought, he is the author of
Husserl and the Promise of Time: Subjectivity in Transcendental Phenomenology
(2009) and A Momentary Breathlessness in the Sadness of Time: On Krzysztof
Michalski’s Nietzsche (2018) and Coeditor of Philosophers at the Front:
Phenomenology and the First World War (2018).
Shigeru Taguchi (Ph.D., University of Wuppertal) is Professor at Hokkaido

University. He is the author of Das Problem des “Ur-Ich” bei Edmund Husserl. Die
Frage nach der selbstverständlichen “Nähe” des Selbst (Springer, 2006) and editor
of Perception, Affectivity, and Volition in Husserl’s Phenomenology (with R. Walton
and R. Rubio, Springer 2017). His recent publications include Reduction to Evidence
as a Liberation of Thinking in Metodo, Vol.1, No.1, 2013. His research topics are
phenomenology, philosophy of consciousness, and Japanese philosophy.
xv
Akrasia and Practical Rationality:
A Phenomenological Approach
Takashi Yoshikawa
Abstract Akrasia, or weakness of will, has been a significant philosophical prob-

lem since the time of Ancient Greek philosophy. Unfortunately, this topic has not
been treated systematically in the phenomenological tradition. This paper seeks to
redress this situation through a critical assessment of contemporary approaches to
the problem of akrasia in light of a proposed phenomenological analysis. As this
paper argues, a phenomenological approach over-comes an intellectualism often
found in discussions of akrasia while identifying its distinctive kind of rationality.
This paper further argues that there are no perfectly self-regulating agents and that
weak-willed agents are able to vindicate their moral sanity.
Keywords Action · Agency · Akrasia · Emotion · Practical rationality · Weakness

of will
1 Introduction
Akrasia (action contrary to one’s judgment), or weakness of will, has been one of
the significant philosophical problems since the time of Ancient Greek philosophy.
However, this topic has not been treated seriously or systematically in the
phenomenological tradition. Aside from a few cursory mentions to the problem,
Husserl, Scheler, Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty, Levinas, and Sartre did not ever truly
wrestle with this problem. What is particularly interesting about this state of affairs
is the fact that we can, indeed, find several conspicuous analyses within their texts
of the very elements that constitute the phenomenon of akrasia. For example, will,
action, passivity, choice, desire, temptation, motivation, and weakness of agency,
etc. are central issues for phenomenological researchers; and these topics all have an
intimate connection with akrasia. How, then, can we reconcile the absence of the
T. Yoshikawa (*)
Faculty of Cultural Studies, University of Kochi, Kochi, Japan
e-mail: yosikawa@cc.u-kochi.ac.jp
© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019 1

N. de Warren, S. Taguchi (eds.), New Phenomenological Studies in Japan,
Contributions To Phenomenology 101,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_1
2 T. Yoshikawa
phenomenology of akrasia with the rich phenomenological descriptions of will and

weakness?
In my opinion, it is extremely unfortunate that many phenomenologists have
avoided dealing with the philosophical problem of akrasia. If they had tackled this
issue more positively, they could have played a significant role in the contemporary
philosophical debates on this issue, especially in the fields of action theory and
moral philosophy. In this paper, I problematize the current mainstream approach to
akrasia1 and indicate the possibility of its phenomenological analysis to contribute
to this field in order to highlight its strengths even in comparison with other
approaches.
2 Problem of Akrasia and Phenomenology
Most phenomenologists did not engage with the problem of akrasia in a serious
manner. This is not because they were unable to elucidate akratic phenomenon, but
because akrasia did not present itself as a philosophical problem to them. In general,
the philosophical problem of akrasia arises from skeptic outlooks which tend to
assert that there is no akrasia. Socrates in Plato’s Protagoras and R.M. Hare are
prominent exponents of this kind of skepticism. According to their skeptical
perspective, the apparent phenomenon of akrasia, is in fact, not an action which
goes against a judgment, but rather an action born of ignorance: it should be
interpreted as the failure to judge what is best for an agent. As akratic agents, we eat
sweets even though we think that they are bad for our health. Seen from a skeptic
perspective, this means that we either eat sweets because we do not know the risk of
sugar (Plato, Protagoras), or because we only know the general opinion on the risk
of sugar but cannot judge for ourselves that it is dangerous for us to continue to eat
it (Hare 1952, p. 167ff.; Hare 1963, p.71ff.). In this sense, the skeptics’ explanations
are usually intellectualistic in that they believe judgment should always motivate
action.2 Therefore, they deny the existence of akrasia as a conflict between reason
and emotion. It should come as no surprise, then, that the central theme in
contemporary arguments of akrasia is the very possibility of its being, and that the
title of Davidson’s famous and monumental article is titled “How is Weakness of the
Will Possible?”
1
Hare and Davidson’s arguments have been the starting points in contemporary philosophical
approaches to akrasia. Hare is a skeptic who denies the possibility of akrasia (Hare 1952; 1963).
Although Davidson is not a sceptic, he interprets it as an action following judgments by finding out
alternative judgments in akratic phenomena (Davidson 1970). They both take intellectualist posi-
tions and regard akratic actions as irrational.
2
Socrates, in Protagoras, states: “Do you consider that knowledge is something noble and able to
govern man, and that whoever learns what is good and what is bad will never be swayed by any-
thing to act otherwise than as knowledge bids, and that intelligence is a sufficient succor for man-
kind?” (Protagoras 352c).
Akrasia and Practical Rationality: A Phenomenological Approach 3
Conversely, many phenomenologists consider akratic action to be natural or

self-evident, since our ordinary actions are usually guided or motivated by vari-
ous elements that are unrelated to judgment. Phenomenology tends to pick up the
action-motivating force in feelings, desires, habits and atmosphere, and fre-
quently analyzes how they are related to action. This tendency is the reason why
phenomenologists have not doubted the existence of akrasia and the philosophi-
cal problem of its possibility has not arisen in the phenomenological tradition. In
this context, the weak agent is standard or common if we use the word ‘weak’ to
refer to the possibility of an agent to be defeated by temptations and to act against
judgments. For example, Heidegger’s theory of action emphasizes the phenom-
enon of weakness that seems to be related to akrasia. It is well known that in
Being and Time he characterizes our standard mode of being as one that involves
a kind of “falling” (Verfallen) into the world. In addition, Dasein usually loses
itself in “the publicness of they (Öffentlichkeit des Man),” and “The Self … is
proximally and for the most part inauthentic, the they-self’ (SZ, p. 175; p. 181
[=Heidegger 1962, p. 220; p. 225]). Our everyday activities are guided by
self-understanding from the perspective of the world in which we live, and
therefore a purely authentic self-understanding does not result in actual behavior.
Instead, Dasein itself is necessarily forced to formulate itself with an inauthentic
understanding:
But if Dasein … presents to itself the possibility of losing itself in the ‘they’ and falling into
groundlessness, this tells us that Dasein prepares for itself a constant temptation toward
falling. Being-in-the-world is in itself tempting (versucherisch) (SZ, p. 177 [=Heidegger
1962, p. 221]).
This observation from Heidegger might be a suitable starting point for a phenome-
nology of akrasia. Most of our actions are factually made concrete through a fasci-
nation with binding forces, and we cannot do anything without such passivity. We
can only act purely on our own judgment if we postulate an abstract and ideal situ-
ation (for example, when we make a decision by ourselves without the epistemic
influence of other people or a society). From here, we can make the claim that the
lack of a phenomenology of akrasia does not indicate its impossibility. In fact,
akrasia is perfectly suited to the phenomenological method because phenomenology
has been engaged in discussing phenomena such as weakness, will, feeling,
passivity, and habit. If we merge the nuanced accounts of these concepts in traditional
phenomenology with the contemporary arguments concerning akrasia, we can see
phenomenology’s potential to contribute to this field. It is for these reasons – and
because phenomenology is so adept at noticing weakness in human beings – that I
maintain that the phenomenological approach is the most appropriate one for an
analysis of akrasia.3
3
I think of the passivity (Husserl), nothingness or without power (Heidegger), ambiguity (Merleau-
Ponty), and vulnerability (Levinas).
4 T. Yoshikawa
3 Intentional Emotion
Phenomenology provides important insights into the role of our emotions in moti-
vating actions. Scheler, especially, finds intentionality – namely the character of
having ‘consciousness about’ – in a variety of emotions, and he attributes to them
the ability to recognize values. Feeling (Fühlung) and preference (Vorziehung) are
intentional emotions and can perceive values. But they are distinct from all
judgments, including evaluative ones, as they are something more than mere
theoretical consciousness. Intentional emotions enable us to meet values and thereby
motivate the actions that will react or respond to them. In intentional emotions, we
can find two functions: receiving values and guiding actions. According to Scheler,
the standard way of living our life is to meet values emotionally, and to act by
reacting or responding to them: “All primordial comportment toward the world …
is … a primordial emotional comportment of value-apprehension (Wertnehmung)”
(SGW/II, p. 206 [=Scheler 1973, p. 197]).
I would like to make the aforementioned example of the akrasia of sweets intel-
ligible from Scheler’s conception of intentional emotion. We judge that sweets are
not good for our health but, at the same time, we receive their deliciousness or visual
beauty through our intentional emotions. Both judgment and emotion contradict
each other in their content, and this makes us wonder whether we should eat sweets
or not. If we make the choice to do so, we act against our judgement. Scheler argues
that if we pay attention to the intentional emotion of values we can successfully deal
with the philosophical problem of akrasia. I present a quote from one of the rare
texts that refers to akrasia in the phenomenological context:
If a value is self-given, however, willing (or choosing in the [special] sense of preferring)
becomes necessary in its being, according to laws of essential interconnections. And it is
in this sense alone that Socrates’ dictum is restored—that all ‘good willing’ is founded in
the ‘cognition of the good’, and that all evil willing rests on moral deception and
aberration. But this sphere of moral cognition is completely independent of the sphere of
judgments and propositions (including the sphere in which we comprehend relations of
value in terms of ‘assessments’ or valuations (Werthaltungen). Both assessments and
value-estimations fulfill themselves in the value given in feeling and are only in this sense
evident. It is therefore quite obvious that the Socratic dictum cannot apply to mere con-
ceptual and judgmental knowledge of a value or a moral value (SGW/II, pp. 87–88
[=Scheler 1973, p. 69]).
A vivid consciousness of values can motivate our actions without relying on judg-
ments. It is easy for us to consider this type of akrasia and understand it as a phe-
nomenon that we have become accustomed to in our daily life. Even if we judge that
airplanes are safe and that accidents rarely happen, we choose to travel long dis-
tances by train in order to avoid suffering from acrophobia. Even if we judge that
the dog in the neighborhood is bound with a chain and it cannot readily attack us,
we avoid it and take a roundabout path because we are afraid of it. It is possible that
judgments and emotions do not conflict and are instead in harmony with one another.
When we take comfort by looking at the strong chain binding the dog and judge that
there is no danger in walking in front of it, we can go anywhere in the house. Each
case indicates that actions follow intentional emotions. Emotive perceptions of

values and evaluative judgments should be distinguished because the former are
sufficient to motivate actions whilst the latter are not (insofar as they can’t motivate
actions by themselves). Judgment can only drive actions effectively if a perceptive
consciousness takes such a value seriously. Therefore, akratic action is that which is
involved in both perceptively receiving the value and rejecting a judgment made
concerning the situation. Scheler blames rationalism for considering only judgment
to be the receiver of values or the guide for actions, and for ignoring the cognitive
and motivational function of emotions.4
4 Habit and Motivation
In line with Scheler’s view, Husserl also formulates the intentional emotion receiv-
ing values as “value-apprehension” (Wertnehmung) and believes that it motivates
actions (Hua. IV, p. 9 [=Husserl 1989, p. 11]; Hua. III-1, §37. cf. Hua. IV, §56). It is
remarkable that Husserl analyzed various motivations in detail. As stated in his
Ideas II, ‘motivation is the lawfulness of the life of the spirit.’ On the basis of this
elucidation, we can understand all things that are related to the human spirit from
the viewpoint of motivation (Hua. IV, p. 220ff. [=Husserl 1989, p. 231ff.]). When
we ask “why” and answer “because,” we talk about our motivations, and they hold
good in the regions of both practical actions and theoretical cognitions (perceptions
and judgments, etc.).
Husserl distinguishes between two types of motivations. On the one hand, there
are “motivations of reason,” “motivations of position-taking by position-taking,”
and “motivations within the framework of evidence,” in which we can find the
activity of an ego. In logical reasoning, the premise motivates the conclusion. In
perceptive judgment, the perception of a red flower motivates the judgment that
“this flower is red.” In evaluative judgment, the fascination with the flower’s beauty
motivates the judgment that “this flower is beautiful.” On the other hand, there are
“associative motivations,” “passive motivations” and “unnoticed and hidden
motivations,” in which associations and habits work without the activity of the ego.
I associate a name with a landscape when I talk about someone with whom I have
looked at that landscape. In this case, the landscape and the person are connected
through association.
4
“All judgment “knowledge” of what is “good” is without fulfillment in a felt value. For this reason
such knowledge of moral norms is not determining for willing. Even the feeling of what is good
determines willing only if the value is given adequately and evidentially, i.e., only if it is self-given.
What is wrong with Socrates’ formulation (not with his knowledge of the good, whose power over
willing was so clearly demonstrated by his death) is the rationalism, which implies that the mere
concept of what is “good” has the power to determine the will” (SGA/II, p. 87 [=Scheler 1973,
p. 69]).
6 T. Yoshikawa
We shall consider how an agent is motivated to an akratic action on the basis of

the distinction of two motivations. As Husserl points out, it is impossible that active
consciousness always motivates our actions with evidence. Our action of eating
sweets is motivated by a passive tendency (a physical drive coming from the lack of
sugar) or habit (our daily tea time). Husserl’s theory of action gives a significant role
to passivity. Husserl argues that a pure active agency grounded only in active
motivations is an unrealizable ideal, which can only be sought or longed for (Hua.
XXVII, p. 33f.). Our standard actions are usually a mixture of passives and actives,
and we can search for both in any one action. It is interesting that in Husserl’s
phenomenological analysis even rational consciousness can come to be habitual and
formulate a routine action:
Likewise, to let oneself be determined by a value-motive and to resist a drive establishes a
tendency (a ‘drive’) to let oneself be determined once again by such a value-motive (and
perhaps by value-motives in general) and to resist those drives. Here habit and free motiva-
tion intertwine (Hua. IV, p. 255 [=Husserl 1989, p. 267]).
This indicates that rational judgment comes to be habitual, that it continues to have
a motivational power and can contradict other new judgments. From this perspective,
we can interpret a famous exemplar of akrasia, namely that of ‘tooth brushing’,
which is discussed by Davidson (Davidson 1970, p. 30). We believe that we should
rest our body when we are exhausted by hard physical work, and that there would
be no serious consequences if we were to give up brushing our teeth for only 1 day.
But we brush our teeth out of daily habit. This action originally has rational grounds
from the active judgment, “we should brush our teeth every night” – which, over
time, becomes increasingly more routine, thereby losing its original meaning. Now,
this can eventually arise as akrasia contrary to the new rational judgment, “we
should rest our body.”
In our everyday life, we come and go between activity and passivity. For Husserl,
the elements motivating an action do not need to be active, yet a great deal of passive
consciousness (habitual judgment or intuition, affection, and association) can guide
action. As is well known, we can behave rightly while being guided by passive
consciousness.5 The tennis player must make high-level judgments in considering
complicated situations such as his or her position, posture and physical balance, or
the opponent’s strategy and tendencies etc. However, his or her judgments are not
active, but instead are classified, in Husserlian terminology, into the category of
passivity. Passive consciousness can work on earlier active judgment and can
motivate our actions successfully and rationally. Our standard behaviors are
supported by customs or habits, and we cannot play tennis or just walk on a road or
sit on a chair without them.
Cf. Arpaly 2000, p. 506.

5
5 Continence and Rationality
The phenomenological analysis of intentional emotion, as well as habit, conceives

of akrasia as possible. In contemporary philosophical discussions, most of those
who defend akrasia from skepticism consider it to be possible but ‘irrational’
(Stroud and Tappolet 2003, p. 5. Cf. Stroud 2014). According to them, akrasia is
regarded as a practical irrationality because the akratic agent is incontinent and fails
to regulate itself by use of the intellect. Davidson also thinks of akrasia as irrational,
in that it contradicts the principle of continence that orders that ‘one should prefer
(act on) the judgment based on all the considerations deemed relevant’ (Davidson
2004, p. 194). We can consider Davidson to be one example of an intellectualist
author who presumes that akrasia is a deviation from rationality. But, in my opinion,
this premise should be criticized. Indeed, as the above phenomenological analyses
show, the intentional emotion is the cognition of values, and the passivity of habit
often produces an action suitable for the situation at hand. Is the action against
rational judgments in itself irrational? Is it not possible that we act better when we
follow emotions and habits rather than judgments? I would like to take into account
two persons (Huckleberry Finn and Eichmann) as exemplary example for our
attempt to reconsider the irrationality of akrasia.
6 Huckleberry Finn and Love
The character Huck in Mark Twain’s novel Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is often
referred to in contemporary moral philosophy and philosophy of action.6 He
encounters Jim (one of Miss Watson’s slaves), who has run away from her. He
judges that he should turn Jim over to Miss Watson. His judgment is rational and
tells him the best course of action after considering all the reasons that are accessible
for him. He writes a letter to inform her where Jim is. However, he finally tears it up
and throws it away. He cannot betray his friend by sending the letter. Is his action
irrational for opposing his rational judgment? His action seems ridiculous in that it
contradicts the judgment he made after weighing up all the reasons he can think of
given his historical and regional conditions. However, in a sense, we can regard it as
correct and, somehow, more morally sane than the alternative.7 It is not important
that his action can be justified through modern-day concepts of human rights.
Instead, even in those days (the novel is set in the late nineteenth century), his action
would have been morally good, or its rationality would have been recognized.
6
Cf. Bennett 1974, McIntyre 1990, p. 380f.; Arpaly 2000; Tappolet 2003, p. 115f; Jones 2003,
p. 186.
7
It is possible that the reason that we can justify actions is external to the agent (McIntyre 1990,
p. 384ff.; Arpaly 2000, p. 505; Jones 2003, p. 193). Namely, the reason for this is the fact moral
evaluation of actions depends on factual situations.
8 T. Yoshikawa
Husserl would find Huck’s action to be a form of love.8 This love is the emotion
intending ‘values, to which I, as what I am, belong to inseparably’, ‘value of life’
and ‘individual, subjective value of love’ (Hua. XXVII, p. 28; Hua. XLII, p. 297ff.;
Hua. Mat, IX, p. 146, fn.). If Huck’s friendship with Jim is his ‘value of life’, his
friendship with Jim becomes integrated into his very life, and he cannot live his life
without it (Cf. Audi 1990, p. 278). Husserl refers to a mother or father who loves her
son to the point that she would help him without a moment of hesitation, even if it
were the end of the world (Hua. XLII, pp. 309–310). She cannot abandon him due
to her love for him. Husserl, in his Kaizo articles (1923–1924), brought about an
ethics of vocation, which are based on love, and consider how a person should live
and formulate his or her self (Hua. XXVII, pp. 20–43). When we live according to
our vocation, we love its value, and without it we cannot be what we are. Being a
mother, a father, a husband, an artist, a teacher, and a scholar, etc. can be a vocation,
and we can feel the supreme satisfaction in our life of being so. We can devote our
life to our vocation, and then our life would be teleologically oriented towards such
vocational value.
Our vocation gives us ethical norms in quite a different way from the principles
of modern moral philosophy (utilitarianism and deontology). Our vocation makes
us satisfied or happy and therefore seems to be closely related to the concept of
happiness as it has been considered as the moral principle of utilitarianism. But the
search for satisfaction in one’s vocation need not to take into account the lives of
other people, nor does it need to secure the objectivity of their satisfaction:
The voice of conscience, of the absolute ought can demand of me something that I in no
way would know as the best through a comparison of values. What is foolishness for the
understanding that compares values is sanctioned and can become an object of the greatest
veneration.9 (Hua. XLII, 390)
The value of a vocation is not chosen by an ‘impartial observer’ (Smith 1759) or an

‘ideal observer’ (Hare 1981), but it matters and has significance to an agent.
Deliberation in the ethics of vocation does not pursue the promotion of happiness in
the world from the impartial point of view, except that an agent has his or her
vocation to live an impartial life (like a sort of animal or human rights’ activist).
Husserl discovers the limits of any ethics (such as his early ethics) that ignores
‘vocation and inner voice.’10 His critical self-reference is also associated with the
well-known critique of utilitarianism by B. Williams. Utilitarian deliberation lays
its theoretical foundations on the principle of impartiality which states that,
“everybody to count for one, nobody for more than one” (Mill 1863, p. 257) and,
“we have to treat everybody as one, including ourselves” (Hare 1981, p. 129). This
deliberation often neglects the integrity of each individual because it cannot
understand that their “project” gives a meaning to their life (Williams 1973, p. 99;
p. 116f.). Husserl and Williams share the view that personal integrity should play a
8
Cf. Melle 2007.
9
I use the translation in Melle 2007.
10
Manuscript, B I 21, 57a. quoted in Melle 1988, p. xlviii.
role in ethical thinking. Moreover the vocation is an obligation that differs from the
deontic one in Kantian moral philosophy. Although Husserl takes his concept of
vocation as a categorical imperative, it is the personal imperative that orders every
agent to guide his/her own life in contrast to the universal imperative in Kant. As he
writes: “The Damon leading to the true vocation speaks through love.” (Hua. Mat,
IX, p. 146, fn.)
The norm of the vocational obligation is grounded not in theoretical reflection but
in love. This point separates Husserl from deontic philosophers. In the dilemma as
to whether a young man should stay by his mother or participate in the resistance for
his country, two obligations contradict one another. According to Sartre, this should
be resolved by his free decision without depending on any emotion (Sartre 1946).
However, Husserl would insist that the young man already loves both his mother and
his country. These two loves divide his identity and cause him the dilemma of having
to choose ‘in which love should he live.’ If he chooses one, he sacrifices the other,
and he inevitably feels as though he is losing something important:
If I decide for one such obligation over against another one that is also demanded, then I
sacrifice not only something absolutely loved and thereby something of value over against
another, but I sacrifice therewith me myself: I sacrifice myself as who I am, I, who cannot
separate myself from such a loved one, from such unconditioned obligation, from such a
striven-for and loved value that originates from my innermost I (Hua. XLII, p. 199).
The young man’s decision would be tragic since he simultaneously loves two
incompatible things. As MacIntyre points out, if the moral agent assumed by Sartre
or Hare chooses something on the grounds of the moral principle, he or she cannot
become a tragic hero who is torn up by two loves (MacIntyre 2007, p. 224.
Cf. MacIntyre 2008). My love guides my action before my choice, and I cannot
willingly dominate it. But it is not a force coming from outside of me, it is my own
desire or satisfaction and it comes from my personal inner center. For example, if
the love for my son is my vocation, the desire for him to be happy and the desire for
me to be so are consistent. As I desire his happiness for my satisfaction, my love for
him is inseparable from my identity. According to H. G. Frankfurt, love does not
mean heteronomy as the inclination towards outer tendencies, means instead a sort
of autonomy, and constitutes a part of one’s heart (Frankfurt 1999, pp. 129–141).
7 Eichmann and Repentance
Huck’s judgment that ‘the escaping slave should be turned back to the owner’ could
be understood as a rational judgment (that considers all reasons accessible for him,
given his socio-historical context). This seems to make it difficult for us to understand
the rationality of his obedience to the judgment, namely the rational principle of
continence. We shall take Adolf Eichmann (as depicted by Arendt) as an example to
reconsider the practical rationality of a continent person. Eichmann was one of the
central figures of the Holocaust insofar as he continued to plan to transfer the Jewish
people to concentration camps and thereby participated in genocide.
10 T. Yoshikawa
We can see the possibility that he might’ve acted in accordance with judgments
such as ‘the order from superiors should be respected,’ ‘the transfer is my task I
can’t escape easily,’ and ‘my job is not responsible for their deaths.’ For Eichmann,
the motivational judgment involved a rational norm, and he reasoned that he was
acting as a moral or righteous person. He acted as if he had personified the principle
of continence by obeying his judgments and regulating himself. As Arendt insists,
he might have felt pity or sympathy for the people that were going to be killed and
he might have wished that their massacre could have been avoided. He might have
had to resist the temptation to help or save them (Arendt 1963–1965, p. 105f; p. 137;
p. 150). His judgments would be rational if one were to consider all of the reasons
he could feasibly reach in the surrounding totalitarian society (it is similar to Huck’s
rational judgment in a society which accepts slavery). He tried to have the
extraordinary ‘strength’ of the will for him to be ‘rational’ within the Third Reich.
In other words, he tried to remain moral in his society.11
We must conclude that Eichmann was a continent and strong-willed person and
must learn that the principle of continence cannot assess him as immoral. This
principle is too formalistic to be the criterion of morality and to consider his
homicide to be irrational. He rationalized his activities by disguising himself as a
rational person. This disguise of rationality helped him to remove the hesitation in
following orders to the letter. It would be the principle of continence that led
Eichmann and his colleagues to camouflage the serious meaning of what they did
and to promote the Holocaust without any hesitation. Now, the strange rationality of
continence indicates that akrasia or weakness of will is not entirely irrational but it
can vindicate an agent’s moral “sanity” (Frankfurt 1988, p. 189f.). Weak people
unable to engage in the genocide would be morally superior to continent people
such as Eichmann and his colleagues.
I would like to focus on the distinction made by Aristotle between akrasia (incon-
tinence) and akolasia (self-indulgence). Self-indulgent people, just as the inconti-
nent, follow their desires and also eat sweets. But they choose to eat sweets positively
or actively and do not succumb to such temptation unwillingly. They choose to do
something wrong and do not regret after doing so, and this implies that akolasia is a
vice. Because they rationalize their actions and do not doubt their justice, they can
neither recognize their crime nor can they rectify their actions. On the contrary,
when incontinent people act against their judgments, they have no choice about
doing this and they often regret their actions. They can heal themselves by blaming
what they did or what they were:
The self-indulgent man, as was said, is not apt to repent; for he stands by his choice; but
incontinent man is likely to repent. … [T]he self-indulgent man is incurable and the
incontinent man curable.12 (NE, 1150 b20–30)
11
Cf., Arendt 1963–1965, p. 135ff. But it would be possible that we consider Eichmann to be a
weak person because he lived as ‘the they-self’ in Heidegger’s terminology by obeying social
norms in the Third Reich.
12
I use the translation given by D. Ross.
The disguised rationality in the case of Eichmann is similar to the problem of self-
indulgence, in that he acted on his choice and he did not repent.13 Eichmann was
willing to obey orders to be a good workers. He could have regulated himself and
regarded himself as rational. However, should we not consider that akratic people
are better than him or that they might have the sanity we could never find in him?
The repentance of incontinent people does not show their defects and moral
faults, but instead should be taken as their moral decentness.14 Williams admits that
the sentiment of regret plays a role in formulating the moral agency. He distinguishes
the particular kind of regret as “agent-regret” from “regret” in the general sense
(Williams 1981, p. 27). Regret, widely understood, is a retrospective consciousness
by a spectator about the past state of affairs. It usually has the thought of “how much
better if it had been otherwise” or “things would have been better.” On the contrary,
agent-regret is what a person can feel only toward his or her own past actions. It has
the first-personal conception of how “one might have acted otherwise.” It is
interesting that the sentiment of agent-regret does not only reach voluntary actions,
but also reaches ‘accidental’ or ‘non-voluntary’ acts as well. As the truck driver runs
over a child, he feels agent-regret. Even if it was completely accidental and it was
not his fault, he should feel agent-regret to a certain degree. This sentiment cannot
be eliminated by the consideration that it was not his fault. A driver who abandons
this sentiment instantaneously or never experiences it at all seems to suffer from a
kind of insanity.
Scheler also shows the moral significance of repentance (Reue). We can discern
two points about the morality of repentance from his text. Firstly, it is a moral
cognition by which we can gain our first complete insight into the badness of our
conduct: “It is Repentance, then, which first brings home to us knowledge of a past
capacity” (SGW/V, p. 41 [=Scheler 1960, p. 47]).
For Scheler, as it was shown, the intentional emotion has a cognitive function
and can receive a variety of values. Therefore, it is not surprising that he finds
repentance to be the disclosing of one’s past guilt. Without any repentance, we have
no consideration for our past actions, and we cannot understand “how much better
if we had acted otherwise,” etc.
Secondly, repentance is not the pure cognition of past things we cannot change
anymore. Rather, it is morally practical consciousness and it can reconstitute the
composition of meanings in our personal life:
To that extent, then, Repentance even assumes the character of a true repentance of conver-
sion and leads finally from good resolutions through an alternation of outlook to transfor-
mation of outlook—that is, to a positive ‘rebirth’—wherein, without detriment to its formal
13
‘But to sum it all up, I must say that I regret nothing’. Life, Vol. 49, No. 23, 5 December 1960,
pp.158–161. Moreover, ‘Regret is something for little children’. During the cross-examination at
his trial, Session 96, 13 July 1961, as quoted in Stangneth 2015.
14
Aristotle stated, ‘Now anyone would think worse of a man with no appetite or with weak appetite
were he to do something disgraceful, than if he did it under the influence of powerful appetite, and
worse of him if he struck a blow not in anger than if he did it in anger; for what would he have done
if he had been strongly affected? This is why the self-indulgent man is worse than the incontinent’
(NE, 1150a20-30).
12 T. Yoshikawa
and individual identity, the spiritual core of the Person, which is the ultimate root of our
moral acts, appears to burn away all remnant of the objects of its former regard and to build
itself anew (SGW/V, p. 42 [=Scheler 1960, p. 48]).
It is through repentance that we can overcome our past crimes, bringing us to a

rebirth. A reborn person attains a new meaning of existence. For example, a person
who engaged in the transfer-work during the Third Reich, and a person who regrets
his actions and feels remorse for his crime, are completely different – at least on the
level of moral meaning – although, in fact, both are one and the same person. The
person who committed a sin needs to live as another person and should be reborn in
this sense. If he or she continues to be what she was and she does not repent her
conduct, we would blame her for ignoring her crime and think that she should be
further punished.
Williams and Scheler both argue in favor of the moral significance of repentance.
Moreover, both criticize modern philosophy for misunderstanding moral agency.
Modern moral philosophers think that the moral agent should be self-regulating and
responsible only for voluntary actions, and they exclude the assessment of accidental
conduct from moral consideration.15 However, we are finite beings and we cannot
control all situations. According to Williams, “one’s history as an agent is a web in
which anything that is the product of the will is surrounded and helped up and partly
formed by things that are not” (Williams 1981, p. 29). Our finite agency presents a
limited degree of control. We cannot deny that our best possible deliberation has the
unfortunate potential to lead to the worst possible outcome. But it is more important
that we realize our errors and cope with our faults than we remove the accidentals
to regulate our environments and ourselves: “And so the rubric is rightly not ‘Forget
Repentance and vow past action to future amendment’ but ‘Repent, and therefore do
better!’ “(SGW/V, p. 50 [=Scheler 1960, p. 56]).
Repentance can be a form of morality for the finite agent who cannot avoid moral
unluckiness.
8 Conclusion
Phenomenological philosophy notices intentional emotions and their cognitive and

motivational functions. It is not judgment but rather emotion that originally receives
values and drive actions effectively. Phenomenology makes akrasia intelligible by
overcoming intellectualism, which admits the cognitive and act-guiding roles only
in judgments. In the phenomenological tradition, there are rich analyses of passivity
in emotions, associations, habits, and customs, which can guide our action rightly.
The phenomenological approach cannot only understand akrasia as being pos-
sible, but it can also find a special kind of rationality in it. Generally speaking,
akrasia is irrational in contradicting the principle of continence. However, the
15
Cf. Williams 1981.
principle of continence does not always direct moral action and it is possible that an
continent person may kill people while obeying his judgment. Conversely, weakness
of will can denote a moral sanity. We cannot kill people, we cannot betray our
friend, and we cannot abandon our child. The disability of “we can’t” means
weakness in a certain sense.16 Husserl deals with it in the analysis of ‘practical
impossibility’ of will (Hua. IV, p. 265 [=Husserl 1989, p. 277]).17 Moreover, accord-
ing to Arendt, the people who did not act as Nazis in the Third Reich were regarded
as impotent and were hidden from the public world (Arendt 1963–1965, p. 104;
p. 127; Arendt 2003, p. 78). But it was only they who were morally right and had a
decentness of moral agency.18 The phenomenology of akrasia tells us that there are
no perfectly self-regulating or continent agents and that weak-willed agents can
vindicate their moral sanity.
Acknowledgment I would like to thank Andrew Oberg (University of Kochi) for his informative
comment. This work was supported by JSPS KAKENHI Grant Number (26370027, 17K02178).
References
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classics. New York: Penguin Books, 2006.
———. 2003. In Responsibility and Judgment, ed. Jerome Kohn. New York: Schocken Books.
Aristotle (NE). The Nicomachean Ethics (Oxford World’s Classics) Revised Edition, edited by
Lesley Brown. translated by David Ross, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.
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21–42. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980.
———. 1985. Incoherence and Irrationality. In Problems of Rationality, 189–198. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2004.
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———. 1999. Necessity, Volition, and Love. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Hare, Richard Mervyn. 1952. The Language of Morals. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
———. 1963. Freedom and Reason. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
16
Williams characterises this issue as ‘practical necessity’ with ‘impossibility of the alternatives’
or ‘agent’s incapacity’ (Williams 1981, pp. 124–131. Cf. Williams 1985, p. 187ff.). Frankfurt takes
the impossibility of ‘I can do no other’ as ‘volitional necessity’ (Frankfurt 1988, p. 86ff.).
17
‘“Yet I could not do it”—I am lacking the original consciousness of being able to do this action
or having the power for this action …; this action contradicts the kind of person I am, my way of
letting myself be motivated’ (Hua. IV, p. 265 [=Husserl 1989, p. 277]). Cf. Hart 2009, p. 270f.
18
See Arendt’s remarkable mentions, “Morally the only reliable people when the chips are down
are those who say “I can’t”’ or ‘These people are neither heroes nor saints, and if they become
martyrs, which of course may happen, it happens against their will. In the world, moreover, where
power counts, they are impotent” (Arendt 2003, p. 78f.).
14 T. Yoshikawa
———. 1981. Moral Thinking: Its Levels, Method, and Point. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Hart, James G. 2009. Who One Is; Book 2 Existenz and Transcendental Phenomenology,
Phaenomenologica, 190. New York: Springer.
Heidegger, Martin, (SZ). 1962. Sein und Zeit, 17.Aufl. Tübingen; Max Niemeyer (Being and Time,
translated by John Macquarrie & Edward Robinson, London: SCM Press).
Husserl, Edmund (Hua. III-1). 1977. Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenol-
ogischen Philosophie. Erstes Buch: Allgemeine Einführungin die reine Phänomenologie
1. Halbband: Text der 1.-3. Auflage – Nachdruck. edited by Karl Schuhmann. The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff.
———. (Hua. IV). 1989. Ideen zur einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen
Philosophie. Zweites Buch: Phänomenologische Untersuchungen zur Konstitution, ed. Marly
Biemel. The Hague; Martinus Nijhoff, 1952 (Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to
a Phenomenological Philosophy, Second Book: Studies in the Phenomenology of Constitution,
translated by Richard Rojcewicz and André Schuwer. Collected Works: Volume 3. The Hague:
Kluwer Academic).
———. (Hua. XXVII). 1989. Aufsätze und Vorträge. 1922–1937, edited by T. Nenon H.R. Sepp.
The Hague: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1988, Husserliana Band XXVII.
———. (Hua. XXXVII). 2004. Vorlesungen über Ethik und Wertlehre. 1908–1914. edited by
Ullrich Melle. The Hague: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1988, Husserliana Band XXXVII.
———. (Hua. XLII). 2013. Grenzprobleme der Phänomenologie. Analysen des Unbewusstseins
und der Instinkte. Metaphysik. Säpter Ethik.Texte aus dem Nachlass (1908–1937), ed. Rochus
Sowa, and Thomas Vongehr. New York: Springer, Husserliana Band XLII.
———. (Hua. Mat. IX). 2012. Einleitung in die Philosophie. Vorlesungen 1916–1919, ed Hanne
Jacobs. Dordrecht: Springer, Husserliana: Edmund Husserl Materialienband IX.
Jones, Karen. 2003. Emotion, Weakness of Will, and Normative Concept of Agency. In Philosophy
and the Emotion, ed. A. Hatzimoysis, 181–200. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
MacIntyre, Alasdair. 2007. After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory. 3rd ed. Paris: University of
Notre Dame Press.
———. 2008. Conflict of Desire. In Weakness of Will from Plato to the Present, ed. T. Hoffmann,
276–292. Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press.
McIntyre, Alison. 1990. Is Akratic Action Always Irrational? In Identity, Character, and Morality,
ed. O. Flanagan and A. Rorty, 379–400. Cambridge: MIT Press.
Melle, Ullrich. 1988. “Einleitung des Herausgebers,” in Hua. XXVIII, XIII–XLIX.
Melle, Ulrich. 2007. Husserl’s Personalistic Ethics. Husserl Studies 23 (1): 1–15.
Mill, John Stuart. 1863. Utilitarianism. London: Parker, Son, and Bourn, West Strand.
Plato (Protagoras). Plato II: Laches, Protagoras, Meno, Euthydemus, translated by. W. R. M. Lamb.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967.
Sartre, Jean-Paul. 1946. L’existentialisme est un humanisme. Paris: Edition Nagel.
Scheler, Max (SGW/II). 1973. Der Formalismus in der Ethik und die materiale Wertethik, ed.
Maria Scheler, Gesammelte Werke Band. II, Bern; Francke. 1980 (Formalism in ethics and
non-formal ethics of values: a new attempt toward the foundation of an ethical personalism,
translated by Manfred S. Frings and Roger L. Funk, Evanston; Northwestern University Press).
——— (SGW/V). 1960. Vom Ewigen im Menschen, ed. Maria Scheler, Gesammelte Werke Band.
V, Bern; Francke Verlag. 1954 (On the Eternalin Man, translated by Bernard Noble, London:
SCM Press).
Smith, Adam. 1759. In The Theory of Moral Sentiments, edited by D.D. Raphael and A.L. Macfie,
1976. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Stangneth, Bettina. 2015. Eichmann Before Jerusalem: The Unexamined Life of a Mass Murderer,
trans. Ruth Martin. New York: Vintagebooks.
Stroud, Sarah. 2014. Weakness of will. In Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. http://plato.stan-
ford.edu/entrie/weakness-will/.
Stroud, Sarah, and Christine Tappolet. 2003. Introduction. In Weakness of Will and Practical
Irrationality, 1–16. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Tappolet, Christine. 2003. Emotions and the Intelligibility of Akratic Action. In Weakness of Will
and Practical Irrationality, 97–120. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Williams, Bernard. 1973. A Critique of Utilitarianism. In Utilitarianism For & Against, ed. J.J.C.
Smart and B. Williams. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
———. 1981. Moral Luck. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
———. 1985. Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Takashi Yoshikawa (Ph.D., Keio University) is Associate Professor at the University of Kochi. He
is author of Husserl no rinrigaku, ikikatano tankyu [Edmund Husserl’s Ethics: An Inquiry into the
Way of Living] (Chisen shokan, 2011) and one of the authors of Word Map Gendai genshogaku
[Word Map. Contemporary Phenomenology] (Sinyosha, 2017). His research topics are Husserl’s
phenomenology, phenomenological ethics, and contemporary ethics.
How Is Time Constituted
in Consciousness? Theories
of Apprehension in Husserl’s
Phenomenology of Time
Norio Murata
Abstract This paper examines the problem of how experience is constituted as a

temporal object through the lens of Husserl’s phenomenology of time-consciousness.
The aim of this paper is to stress three significant aspects of Husserl’s approach: his
rethinking of the “apprehension-content” scheme, his clarification the position of
inner time-consciousness within the system of transcendental phenomenology, and
his answer to the question of whether the temporality of experience is constituted at
the very moment of experience or subsequently by reflection. After a critical review
of the development of Husserl’s analysis of these issues, this paper proposes an
account that combines various elements from the development of Husserl’s thinking
in connection with Husserl’s later thought.
Keywords Husserl · Brentano · Time-consciousness · Time · Skepticism
1 Introduction
We often look back on our experience and ask ourselves “when did that happen?”1
We often return to an experience that is especially important to us. Our life is made
up of the temporal sequence of such experiences. How is my experience constituted
as a temporal object? This essay attempts to answer this question by means of an
interpretation of the crucial function of apprehension in our experience of time. To
this end, I will examine various meanings of “apprehension” in the development of
Husserl’s thought.
Thus far, many researchers who were interested in the phenomenology of time-
consciousness have grasped the “apprehension-content” scheme as a mistaken
1
This essay is based on the draft for my presentation in the conference titled “Consciousness and
the World” which was held in Tongji University of Shanghai on May 2–3, 2016. I appreciate Prof.
Ka-wing Leung’s invitation and the detailed comments of Dr. Li-Qing Qian.
N. Murata (*)
Department of Civilization, School of Letters, Tokai University, Kanagawa, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_2
18 N. Murata
theory that needed to be overturned.2 However, the publication of Husserl’s middle

and later manuscripts regarding time-consciousness has made it obvious that he
never ceased to use the word apprehension. Accordingly, we must once again clarify
the role of the act of apprehending.
As is well known, in Ideas I Husserl argued that immanent or phenomenological
time was a precondition for the field of absolute consciousness; yet this the investi-
gation of time-consciousness was nonetheless put aside (Hua, III-1, §83). In the
Bernau Manuscripts Husserl states definitively that phenomenological time is noth-
ing other than the objective time as constituted by the apprehending act (Hua,
XXXIII, p. 120, 184f). Therefore, this problematic connects time-consciousness
and the field of transcendental consciousness discussed in Ideas I.
Indeed, how such objectification of time is achieved is a central problem in the
Bernau Manuscripts: does an experience acquire its time-position at the moment I
live through it or does it become objectified and located within a temporal sequence
when subsequently reflected upon? In this essay I will try to arrive at a reconciling
position between both answers by examining the variations in Husserl’s account of
apprehension.
The outline of this essay is as follows: To begin, I will explain Brentanian origi-
nal association theory, which Husserl confronted when he considered the first ver-
sion of apprehension theory. I call this first version plain apprehension theory.
Second, I will focus on the function to give time-position, and examine the second
theory, named now-inscription theory. Next, I will present the third theory, named
subsequent reflection theory. Finally, I will propose a mixed theory which combines
elements of the second and the third, and point out the scope and limitations of this
new theory, and show its connection with Husserl’s later thought.
2 I ntroduction of Apprehension Theory: Criticism

of Brentano’s Original Association
In Early Manuscripts as well as the descriptions published in the Lecture of

Phenomenology of the Consciousness of Internal Time, Husserl’s consideration of
time consciousness begins with a confrontation with his teacher Brentano. So let us
take a look at Brentano’s original association theory. Let us suppose that we are
listening to music. I hear a certain sound. Immediately it passes away and changes
into a passed-away sound. How this sort of change in temporal character should be
explained is the main task of the analysis of time-consciousness here. Brentano
2
This movement was brought about initially by Merleau-Ponty. In the Phénomenologie de la
Perception (Merleau-Ponty 1945, pp.175–9) he criticized Husserl’s scheme as bad intellectualism
which can touch directly the raw material independent of action. At the same time he responded
positively to Husserl’s footnote in the Lecture of Phenomenology of Inner Time Consciousness that
not all constitutions have this scheme (ibid., p.178).
How Is Time Constituted in Consciousness? Theories of Apprehension in Husserl’s… 19
explained this with original association. It refers to “general psychological law,”

according to which:
… a continuous series of presentations is fastened by nature to every given presentation
such that each presentation belonging to this series reproduces the content of the one pre-
ceding it, but in such a way that it always affixes the moment of the past to the new presenta-
tion. (Hua, X, p. 11)
As far as I understand, this theory has three main features: (1) the change of tempo-
ral character is thought of as that of content, (2) this change of content is enabled by
imagination (Phantasie), and (3) the part which temporally modifies an original
sound is called the modifying part.
1. The notion that temporal change consists in a change of content comes from a
basic presupposition of Brentanian psychology. He classifies mental phenomena
into three classes, namely presentation, judgment, and emotion. Among these
three classes, while judgments and emotions can differ in the way of intentional
relations, presentations only differ in contents within the group (cf. Brentano
1969, 15f). Consequently, as far as time elapsing should be explained within
presentation, the temporal difference between the present and the passed-away
sound does not consist in the mode of the act or the way of intentional relation,
but in its contents. To the original content, or the present sound, is added the part
“passed-away,” and then the whole content of the “past-away sound” is made
up.3
2. That imagination works on original association is to be contrasted with the char-
acteristic of sensation. According to Brentano, sensation (Empfindung) must
have a corresponding stimulus in the real world, and should be seen as a causal
effect postulated by this concept (Brentano 1973, p. 46). But there is no stimulus
in the real world causing this new, just-passed content. Consequently, this con-
tent should not be seen as sensory, but as an imaginary content (phantasma),
created by the mind.
3. As concerns the argument that the part “passed-away” is the modifying one.
Here, I would like to draw attention to the modifying part as a concept appearing
in Descriptive Psychology (Brentano 1995). It is claimed in this text that the task
of descriptive psychology, or psychognosy, is to enumerate the types of parts of
human consciousness and to determine how they connect. Parts are classified
into either actually separable or distinctional parts (which are only conceptually
distinguishable), wherein the latter has a further subordinate group named dis-
tinctional parts in the modifying sense (Brentano 1995, p. 28).4 If the sound has
passed away and the complex “passed-away sound” is made up, the “passed-
away” is not only added, but also changes the mode of original content to which
it is added. Only the sound exists in itself; the “passed-away” sound does not.
3
cf. Hua X, p. 171f. Brentano, however, soon abandoned this understanding and later held a view
similar to Husserl.
4
Müller’s translation: a “distinctional part in the modified sense” is an expression which can lead
to misunderstanding. What is modified is not this part itself but the part which is combined with it.
20 N. Murata
The “passed-away” deprives the “sound” of its existence, modifies it. For this
reason, he calls this the modifying part. Can the Brentanian approach with such
features actually clarify the phenomenon of time? This is the question that
Husserl held at the beginning of his study of time-consciousness.
But if the complex of both moments A and passed-away (vergangen) exists, then also A
exists now. And at the same time A should be passed away, therefore should not be now.
(Hua X, p. 172)
It is supposed generally that in the case of presentation P(X), the content X belongs
to the present in consciousness. Then content “passed-away A” of presentation P
(passed-away A) also belongs to the present in consciousness. But does the “A,”
partial content of that, belong to the present in consciousness or not? This was
Husserl’s question.
Let us consider both possibilities further. If the “A” as content of consciousness
belongs to the present, together with the whole “passed-away A,” then it calls into
question what was modified and deprived of existence by the modifying part. In this
case what ceased to exist should be the “A” as the object existent in the world. The
“A” is as content in the consciousness but does not exist in the present world. Or,
supposing that, since the “passed-away” is the modifying part, the partial “A” is
deprived of existence and is not now in the consciousness, then we ask ourselves
what kind of entity this “A” is, and where “A” belongs. The answer should be that
the “A” belongs to the past world. The part “A” of the whole “passed-away A” is
deprived of existence in the present consciousness by the modifying part, but
remains existent in the past world, wherein it has unmodified existence.
In this way, we are brought to the distinction between the present consciousness
and the entity of the world or object (Gegenstand).5 It is by introducing this distinc-
tion that Husserl presents a clearer theory of time constitution. And the apprehen-
sion enables us to make this distinction. During the time elapsed, the sound is
grasped at first as present, then as just past, and as passed-away. In this last case we
can describe a sound as being grasped “in” the present of consciousness and at the
same time “as” the past, wherein “in” means the starting point of intentional con-
sciousness, and “as” refers to its goal. Similarly, temporal character can be thought
of as a way of the act of grasping, namely of apprehension (Auffassung). This does
not refer to the content of the intentional act, but to the character of the act, or the
way of intentional relation. In such a way, Husserl was led to introduce the
apprehension- content scheme. Later, some variations of this scheme will be
explained, so I would like to call this first version plain apprehension theory.
According to this theory, a difference in temporal character is explained by a differ-
ence in the way of apprehension, not in its contents.
5
Here, I am using the word “Gegenstand” in order to express the entity in the world. By contrast
Brentano’s word “Objekt” does not mean the opposite of subject and real entity in the world, in the
modern sense, but content that the mind posits and is neutral to its existence, in a Cartesian or
scholastic sense (Brentano, 1973, pp. 180–1). Confusingly Husserl often adopts this word, espe-
cially in the phenomenology of time-consciousness.
3 C
onstitution of Phenomenological Time as Objective:
Now-Inscription Theory
Let us consider to what extent this theory is valid for an explanation of time consti-
tution. In the case of the usual outer perception, we apprehend something; in other
words, we grasp something as something. For example, I may glimpse an animal
running away in a forest (cf. Hua XXXIII, pp. 173–4). I apprehend it as a deer, after
which I correct myself and apprehend it as a dog. In this case “deer” and “dog” have
nothing to do with each other aside from my having apprehended the same content
in two different ways. By contrast, in the case of temporal apprehension of some-
thing as “now” and “passed away,” the latter means having been “now” in the past.
Namely “now” is the origin of “passed-away” and this is the derivation of the “now.”
Brentanian original association theory reflects this relationship. The whole “passed-
away sound” contains the original sound, although modified, and the whole refers
back to the original sound that was present in the past. From this we can treat
“passed-away sound” as relevant content, despite it being nonexistent, and reduce it
ontologically to the original modus. On the contrary, Husserl’s apprehension theory
loses this advantage from this point of view, despite its clarity as a model.
We should now step towards the next apprehension theory, the now-point-
inscription theory. In order to give this discussion proper restriction, I would like to
draw attention to a general classification of temporal characters. Generally speak-
ing, temporal characters of an individual thing or event can be classified into two
groups. One group subsumes those which are determined by their distance from the
present on which experiencing subject is located, and they change along with the
passage of time. For example, future, shortly, soon, now, present, just past, past are
in this group. Another group consists of determinations which are not changed by
the passage of time and keep their own identity, such as before X, simultaneous with
Y, after Z, at that time, and so forth. Husserl distinguishes temporal characters in the
similar way. He calls the former the way-to-be-given (Gegebenheitsweise), and the
system of such determinations subjective time. In contrast to this, he calls those
which belong to the latter group, objective time-position (objektive Zeitstelle) as
punctual determination, objective duration as temporal extension, objective time-
relation as the relation of a certain position to another and so forth, these make up
objective time.
It is the constitution of objective time, especially of objective time-position
(since among objective determinations time-position is prior to the others), which
the now-inscription theory accounts for. Objective time-position is given at every
moment the sensory event is experienced.
… in contrast to the flow of temporal retreat (the flow of consciousness modification) the
object appearing in this retreat apperceptively keeps on accepting its identity, and it does so
along with positing as ‘this’ experienced in the now-point. […] Each actual Now produces
a new objective time-point, as it produces a new object, or rather, a new object-point which
is maintained firmly as identically same individual object-point in the flow of modification.
(Hua. XXIV, p. 266)
22 N. Murata
According to this theory, the actual now-point constantly inscribes the time-position
“at that time,” namely the moment the sensory datum passes through it, as if it pro-
vides proof or a certificate of an actual experience at that time. Seen in this way,
apprehension (or apperception) can be understood like inscription.
1. By means of this, objective time-position is set as an identical firm point in time.
Despite not being sense, it is similar to sense in that it keeps its identity through
passage of time. Therefore, it is natural to assign the role of giving objective
time-positions to apprehension whose original role is to give sense. But, while
sense-giving apprehension identifies an object as the general, the time-position
given by temporal apprehension supports the individuality of a thing, namely the
object posited in that time. For instance, if two sounds with the exact same quali-
ties are heard at different moments, then they are seen differently as individuals.
The time-position of the individual refers to the very time-point when the indi-
vidual exists, and even if the time elapses and the concerned object no longer
exists in the present world, it still refers to the time-position where the individual
was located.
2. Another significant argument is that the inscription on a certain sensory datum is
made only once. After the inscription, the object with its time-position passes
away from the actual now and is increasingly modified to a further extent. But
this temporal modification does not damage the identity of a unique objective
time-position, and it concerns only the way-to-be-given in subjective time. In
fact, we should not understand temporal modification as new and different appre-
hensions working repeatedly one after another. The temporal character deter-
mined by distance from the actual now and changing every moment should not
be understood as the coming and going of many apprehensions, as if such a
modification change were the same as the change from deer to dog. Rather, while
modification continues, the object keeps its time-position at the moment when it
was experienced, as well as referring back to the moment. In short, the passed
away simply means to have been once present.
Passed-away and having-been-present are the same from the point of view of appearance.
In such a way, in my opinion the greatest difficulty of the problem about time is clarified,
namely the equivalence of appearing-as-passed-away and appearing-as-having-been-per-
ceived. (Hua. XXIV, p. 261)
Thus, the now-inscription theory is characterized at first by (1) the time-position

being set through continuous inscription of now in the actual momentary present
based on new sensory data, and secondly by (2) temporal modification of the expe-
rienced datum without new apprehension, thereby keeping its identity undamaged.
Considering this, the second theory accounts for the constitution of objective time
on the one hand, and on the other hand it enables the constituted object to refer back
to its origin. For these reasons, this theory has an advantage over the first one.
However, we ought to take note of two problems here. The first problem is the
temporality peculiar to the memory of “passed-away A”. When I experience nothing
especially new and fix my attention exclusively on a sound with identical time-
position, it nevertheless gets farther and farther away and the time elapses. This
consciousness has its own objective time-position and objective duration. But if
such an experience during the flowing away of a sound is apprehended as a time-
position and has its own objective temporality, does it not contradict the second
characteristic above?
The second problem is that of skepticism. The time object, once constituted,
refers back to its origin in memory. We can doubt however the reliability of memory.
The now-inscription theory presupposes that the apprehension of an objective time-
point is continuously happening automatically in the actual present. But in the case
of a passing-away sound, the sound which I think I heard a short time ago, is there
no doubt about the existence of this fact? Concerning this point, Husserl, in one of
his early manuscripts on time-consciousness, reflected:
If God were to bring us forth immediately just as we now are, then we would indeed possess
all of our memories. […] But in that case memory would deceive us. There is no guarantee
that something actually did take place just as we believe it did in memory. (Hua X, p. 158)
Indeed, normally I am almost as certain of the sound that I have just heard as I am
of the sound which I am hearing now. But there is a chance that, although this sound
might not have happened, God might have created me with a memory of this sound
already present in my memory. Such a metaphysical possibility deprives even our
most recent memory of its certainty.
We have seen above that Husserl thought of passed-away and having-been-
present as the same thing (Hua XXIV, p. 261). It is important that he restricted this
equivalence by adding “from the point of view of appearance.” I would guess that
this condition comes from Husserl’s consideration of the possibility that an original
experience did not occur.
Following from this, the now-inscription theory does not claim that the remem-
bered object was actually experienced and was inscribed with the time-position,
much less that such time-position-giving act continues in reality forever, but claims
only that appearance of “passed-away” requires but does not confirm its existence.
In short, the second theory concerns the appearance of the past rather than its
reality.
4 Subsequent Reflection Theory
Now let us move onto the third theory. This explains that, instead of continuously
giving time-position to sensory data in the actual present, apprehension occurs and
the time-position is set when the ego turns its active intentionality reflectively to a
certain moment in the stream of experience. I call this subsequent reflection
theory.
This theory presupposes that the unity of data that is supplied as material to tem-
poral apprehension is already constituted by the deepest layer of consciousness, and
this is called the absolute stream of consciousness in the Early Manuscripts, but
which has a new name originary process (Urprozess) in the Bernau Manuscripts.
24 N. Murata
Nevertheless, this difference consists merely in the form of description and has little
impact on this essay. The most important roles of this layer are (1) to form unity of
moments in consciousness, while at the same time (2) giving continuity to the flow
of consciousness itself, and enabling minimal self-consciousness without a break.
In Early Manuscripts these roles are played by double intentionality of retention,
and in the Bernau Manuscripts by double fulfillment of protention. The function of
cross-intentionality (Querintentionalität) of retention or specific fulfillment (beson-
dere Erfüllung) of protention concerns the constitution of unity of data, while the
function of lengthwise intentionality (Längsintentionalität) of retention or general
fulfillment (allgemeine Erfüllung) of protention forms the continuity of my con-
sciousness and enables minimal self-consciousness or pre-reflective self-awareness
(Hua X, p. 80f, 379f/Hua XXXIII, pp. 29–30).6
The subsequent reflection theory needs some explanation. Firstly, this subse-
quence does not mean that the reflection must necessarily be conducted after the
experience within the same temporal sequence. Rather reflection can be directed to
what is actually experienced and can objectify the perceptive act concerned. The
experience can be objectified in the actual present, but such an objectifying reflec-
tion is not always conducted; objectification does not work without active reflection.
And the unity of content that the reflection uses as fundament and to which it gives
time-position in order to make temporal object, is constituted by the originary pro-
cess. Reflection means from the sense of the word that any experience is conducted
in advance and reflection returns to it. I call this reflection “subsequent” because the
reflection requires that the moment of experience is already constituted by the origi-
nary process. Therefore, either reflection can objectify the experience which I am
currently living through and give the time position of the instance I now experience,
or return to the experience that has left the present and is passing away and give
time-position “at that time” ex post facto. In contrast to the second theory, which
claims that apprehension always works automatically in the actual present, the third
theory claims that apprehension can objectify anything, whether it is being experi-
enced actually or has passed-away, relatively freely.
As for the question of whether or not we are conscious of the experience at all
before reflection, we must take the aforementioned concept of pre-reflective self-
awareness7 into account. The constituted unity of data is neither thematically
6
In terms of “double intentionality of retention” and in terms of “double fulfillment of protention”
cf. Kortooms (2002, pp. 158–168).
7
See Zahavi (1999, chaps. 5 and 7). I think nevertheless that, since the pre-reflective self-aware-
ness without apprehension works everywhere on all acts of experience, it doesn’t enable to describe
the total stream of consciousness easily. In my opinion the pre-reflective self-awareness has quite
a little distinctness and it can give evidence only to rough and general statements. Act of conscious-
ness should instead be described mainly based upon correlation of noesis-noema, by grasping what
is gotten from the description about the noematic side as determinations constituted by the corre-
sponding acts and by attributing these constitutions to functions of acts in the noetic side. The
analysis of the absolute stream of consciousness should also follow this procedure by starting from
the constituted time (noematic time) back to the constituting stream. Therein, I think, demonstra-
tive consideration should be also needed and one can hardly clarify the structure of absolute stream
only by description.
reflected nor actually objectified, but we are slightly aware of it. This slightness has
a gradation and, if it does not attract our interest, it can fall to almost zero. Still, it
would be too strong to claim that it would be unconscious in principle (Zahavi 1999,
14ff).
Now let us consider what we can achieve with this theory. To begin, the first
problem of the second theory that the consciousness of the passing-away moment
has no time-position for itself can be solved. Experiences regarding passing-away
objects can be seen as independent objects which have their own time-position,
which they gain when they are constituted as time-objects by means of our reflec-
tion and apprehension of them. We can reflect on ourselves while following the
passing-away sound, thereby objectifying the actual present experience. And as far
as the problem of skepticism is concerned, the third theory has an advantage in that
it does not presuppose the real existence of the past present experience as the origin
of the “passed-away.” No matter when the concerned data to which time-position
will be given was experienced, it is always in the actual present that the reflective
apprehension is conducted and the time-object is constituted. In this way this theory
starts from the actual present and then goes back to the past reflectively and recon-
stitutes it. Therefore, it does not naively presuppose the existence of the past experi-
ence, it reconstitutes the past. This time, seen as appearance, we can possess
memories of past experiences even if we are created by God with the memory in the
present instant. The appearance in the memory is just as it is even if it was given in
a different way in the real past. In this way, this theory shows an appropriate step
starting from the appearance of time, gaining a foothold in it, in order to constitute
real time.
At the same time however, another problem seems to arise. In the now-inscription
theory, objective time is constituted as linear coordinates of the order of before,
simultaneous, and after. In the subsequent reflection theory it seems that only
reflected datum accepts a time-position as a point, or at best, as an objective dura-
tion with a limited length. If objective time constituted here is merely fragmentary,
can we say that it is constituted in the proper sense? And the time-position is usually
given after the concerned data is apart from actual experience. To what extent can
we claim this time-position is reliable? If I want to constitute the real sequence of
my own experiences by reflecting on them, am I only giving an arbitrary position to
them and making up a fictional life-history?
5 S
uggestion of a Fourth, Mixed Theory: Its Scope
and Limitations
Thus far we have examined three apprehension theories and it has become obvious
that each theory has its own weakness. The first, the plain apprehension theory,
which appeared as an alternative to Brentano’s original association theory, has the
26 N. Murata
problem of not corresponding to the fact that the past “present” is the origin of the
“passed away” and that the latter is derived from the former. The second, the now-
inscription theory, has two problems: that it cannot treat the experience following
the passing-away sound as an independent time-object, and the dogmatic and unten-
able presupposition that apprehension in the present works actually and continu-
ously. The third theory solves the two problems of the second theory, but loses the
advantage of the second one. Finally I would like to suggest a fourth theory, com-
prised of by elements of both the second and the third theory, as it seems the most
convincing one, and point out its scope and limitations.
In the third theory one of the conditions of reflection is that the data as fundament
for time objectification endures in the present of the consciousness (or emerge again
over the interval), but the data is not grasped as “something enduring,” much less as
“only subsequently coming up” (Hua, XXXIII, p. 209). Instead, it is grasped as
originally experienced.8 This argument shows the condition that “at that time” must
be the past “now” at the moment the object was experienced, which we have seen
by the second theory.
Let me note that the second and the third theory contradict each other in terms of
when the temporal apprehension is conducted, but they do not if the second one is
slightly weakened and inscription does not mean apprehension. If the second theory
only means that the datum was experienced at that time, then both theories are com-
patible. We take away the apprehensive act giving the time position from inscription
and assign it to the reflection. Nevertheless, although the time-position “at that time”
is explicated by reflection, (a) it refers back to the past “now” at the moment the
datum was experienced and (b) something which hints when it was experienced was
implicitly inscribed, as identically enduring despite temporal modification, and after-
ward (c) reflection is conducted and the time position is given based upon this impli-
cation. With this weaker version of the second theory can be mixed the third one.
“At that time” refers solely to the moment of the experience at hand, i.e., the
inscription in a weaker sense occurring, and this is required for the meaning of the
appearance of the time object, even if we accept a skeptical outlook or the possibil-
ity of the non-existence of the real experience. If it were confirmed that the
experience was not conducted, then the appearance would be corrected,9 then “at
that time” would be connected with another event, the false appearance would be
decided as false or located in another position. But in this case as well, the false
memory required to be what I experienced and to have the unique time-position in
8
In Bernau Manuscripts Husserl argues that the past experience far distant from the present arises
within the actual present, namely about so to speak passive recollection, called “recollection com-
ing to mind” (einfallende Erinnerung) (Hua, XXXIII, p. 361ff). This moment of experience has no
time-position and is constituted as time object by being reflected and given the position “at that
time”.
9
Here, the phenomenology of intersubjectivity or the phenomenology of verbal/nonverbal expres-
sion is a necessary tool to continue this investigation. In order to confirm my past experience, it is
not sufficient to examine my consciousness from a first-personal point of view. Physical evidence
or witness is also helpful for this task. How these can justify a belief in one’s memory, how and to
what extent they support or contradict the appearance of my experience, ought to be investigated.
my experience. Just for this reason the experience can compete against other experi-
ence which insists on the same time position and it should be confirmed which is
true. In this way the time object which is constituted by reflection refers back to the
experience (inscription in a weaker sense) and requires that the experience occurred
in reality.
There is another point to emphasize. While the above description was given con-
cerning the reflected side, it is also true of the reflecting side. In the actual present
as the starting point of reflection, the inscription (in a weaker sense) occurs without
doubt. This also can be confirmed by reflection. This lets me understand why the
appearance of experience can refer back to the past present. I understand this on the
basis that the experience is happening now, the “now” is inscribed just the moment
I experience it. By means of the analogy with this actual inscription (in a weaker
sense), the reflected time position appears as now of “at that time.” Because it is this
inscription that makes us directly understand what the experience is. Accordingly
the first condition is:
1. Inscription occurring in the actual present
And then:
2. Giving the time-position “at that time” by reflection
Then based on analogy with (1), the time-position in (2) means:
3. the past “now” when the inscription occurred.
In this way our mixed theory explains that the constituted time is not arbitrarily
summed up with moments but refers to my actual experience. Accordingly we can
reject, at least, the criticism that the constituted time is merely an arbitrary product
like a psychological fictional product. Its structure, a priori of transcendental con-
sciousness, gives the condition of constituted temporal sequence of our experiences
(Erlebnisse). Inscription (1) concerns time-constituting originary process, and (2)
concerns experience as the constituted objectivity. Nevertheless, we are still far
from constituting one linear time as an infinite continuity without a break. And the
obstacle to this was skepticism. This has not been resolved and still remains a task
to be solved. But to make visible what was an invisible problem is no bad thing and
skepticism just does it. Rather it can clarify the restrictions of our starting point to
constitute the time of experience.
Let me add a few words to connect what this essay has shown with the later
development of Husserl’s thought. I would like to draw attention to two points.
1. Husserl’s middle thought claims that, after the phenomenological reduction, we
can find that the flow of experience has unity with infinite extension, namely it is
presupposed as one continuous line in the transcendental level (Ideas I, §83). But
in the later thought he tries to realize a so-called radicalized reduction by shut-
ting out the temporal extension of transcendental consciousness, and confines
the stream of consciousness as the first foothold of constitution to a very narrow
range of the living present (Held 1966, p. 66f). Does not the point we have
28 N. Murata
reached here touch upon the problematic of this radicalized reduction? If our
work here is correct, then the necessity of this new reduction can be understood
also outgoing from skepticism.
2. Together with the above, in the later C-Manuscripts Husserl notes birth, sleep,
and death, as phenomena that break or limit the continuity of first-personal expe-
rience. On the one hand, these phenomena are merely something that happens to
the empirical human being, and hence are no threat to transcendental subjectiv-
ity. On the other hand, when transcendental subjectivity constitutes the temporal
sequence of its own experience, these phenomena can be a serious problem,
which means the possibility to break the activity of inscription as we argue
above, namely to cut off the continuity of first-personal experience. In this case
they will bring various theoretical consequences to the phenomenological reduc-
tion and problematic of constitution. In this way these phenomena can have a
different significance in accordance with their theoretical dignity, and therefore
should be investigated while being distinguished from one another at some level.
References
Brentano, Franz. 1969. The Origin of Our Knowledge of Right and Wrong. Trans. Rodelick
Chisholm and Elizabeth Schneewind. Abingdon: Routledge.
———. 1973. Psychology from an Empirical Standpoint. Trans. Linda McAlister. Abingdon:
Routledge.
———. 1995. Deskriptive Psychology. Trans. Benito Müller. Abingdon: Routledge.
Kortooms, Toine. 2002. Phenomenology of Time. Edmund Husserl’s Analysis of Time-
Consciousness, Phaenomenologica 161. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic.
Held, Klaus. 1966. Lebendige Gegenwart. Die Frage der Seinsweise des transzendentalen Ich bei
Edmund Husserl, Entwickelt am Leitfaden der Zeitproblematik. Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff.
Husserl, Edmund. Husserliana. Gesammelte Werke. Den Haag: Springer/Kluwer/Martinus Nijhoff
Academic (I refer with “Hua.” and roman numerals to the volume number of Husserliana and
with Arabic numbers to the page number):
Band. III-1. 1976. Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischer Philosophie.
Erstes Buch, Allgemeine Einführung in die reine Phänomenologie, ed. Karl Schumann.
Band. X. 1966. Zur Phänomenologie des inneren Zeitbewußtseins, ed. Rudolf Boehm.
Band. XXIV. 1984. Einleitung in die Logik und Erkenntnistheorie. Vorlesungen 1906/07, ed.
Ullrich Melle.
Band. XXXIII. 2001. Bernauer Manuskripte über das Zeitbewusstsein, ed. Rudolf Bernet and
Dieter Lohmar.
Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. 1945. Phénoménologie de la Perception. Paris: Gallimard.
Zahavi, Dan. 1999. Self-Awareness and Alterity. A Phenomenological Investigation. Evanston:
Northern University Press.
Norio Murata (Ph.D., Hitotsubashi University) is Professor of at Tokai University, Kanagawa. His

areas of research are Husserl’s phenomenology of time consciousness, theory of self-awareness,
Brentano’s ontology, and descriptive psychology. His doctoral dissertation is Husserl’s
Phenomenology of Time Consciousness (2005). Among his publications are Husserl and Theory of
Knowledge (in Kiki ni Taijisuru Shiko, Azusa-Shobo, 2016) and Category as Real Concept:
Brentano’s Ontology in the Manifold Sense of Being by Aristotle (Husserl Studies in Japan, 2014).
Things and Reality: A Problem
for Husserl’s Theory of Constitution
Takeshi Akiba
Abstract In Ideas II and other works, Edmund Husserl gives a constitutional anal-
ysis of material reality. His basic thought on this matter is that a material thing is
constituted when it is shown to causally depend on its surrounding circumstances.
In this essay, I will first try to show that this appeal to causal dependence involves
an important problem, namely, the circularity or regress problem. I then consider
how this problem can be solved from both theoretical and exegetical standpoints. As
a key that could lead to a solution, I propose the hypothesis that Husserl’s notion of
reality is holistic. By attributing this notion to Husserl, I argue that we can find a
satisfactory answer to the aforementioned problem, as well as a perspicuous way of
understanding some of his passages.
Keywords Husserl · Constitution · Material reality · Circularity · Infinite regress ·

Holism
1 Introduction
In Ideas II and other works, Edmund Husserl offers a constitutional analysis of

material reality. Here are some of the chief questions he aims to answer through his
analysis:
The physical or material thing is res extensa. … Now, what makes the concept of this res
up? What is extended reality, and what is reality in general? Also, people talk about
extended substance. What does this substantiality mean, we ask, and in the highest general-
ity possible? (Hua IV, pp. 33–4, original emphasis)
To put it simply, Husserl is asking here what the reality of real things consists in.
And he basically answers this question, as readers may well know, by invoking the
T. Akiba (*)
Philosophy Department, Chiba University, Chiba, Japan
e-mail: takiba@chiba-u.jp

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_3
30 T. Akiba
notion of causality (Hua IV, p. 41f; p. 45, p. 126; Hua V, p. 30).1 That is, Husserl
holds that the reality of real things consists in their being governed by causal order,
as opposed to objects in the spiritual world (geistige Welt) that are governed by
motivational order (Hua IV, p. 220f).
Now, although this appeal to causality seems to have been regarded as relatively
uncontroversial (at least in comparison to, say, Husserl’s view on phenomenological
reduction, alter ego, mathematical objects, time-consciousness, etc.), there is, in
fact, an important problem here.2 In a nutshell, the problem is that of circularity or
infinite regress, and it arises at a quite basic level of analysis which commentators
have generally passed over.3 So in this essay, I shall first try to make clear what the
problem is, and then consider how it can be solved while thinking from both a theo-
retical and exegetical perspective. To state my findings out front, this consideration
will give us a good occasion to rethink the issue of what sort of property the reality
of real things is, and thus help articulate a radically holistic conception of reality
Husserl had adopted.
The essay is organized as follows. In Sect. 2, I provide a context for the following
discussion and locate the problematic area in it. Section 3 presents a seemingly seri-
ous difficulty for Husserl’s account of reality in the form of circularity problem. In
Sect. 4, I examine two possible responses to this problem that turn out to be inade-
quate, and through this examination make it clear that the genuine challenge for
Husserl’s account is an infinite regress. Then in Sect. 5, I propose a solution to the
problem of an infinite regress before replying in Sect. 6 to several questions that my
proposal might arouse.
2 Setting the Stage
Let us begin, then, by providing a somewhat broader context in which the following
discussion is located. As has already been indicated above, the theme of this essay
is Husserl’s constitutional analysis of material reality. But what exactly, one may
ask, does it mean to give a “constitutional analysis”? Well, although this question is
rather complicated, there are two things that seem relatively safe to assume. First, to
constitute something in the Husserlian sense is (of course) not to construct or create
it, but to let it appear, unfold, manifest itself as what it is.4 Thus a constitutional
1
The following passage from Ideas III is particularly worthy of attention: “a thing is not an entity
in general, but the identical in the nexus of causal dependencies. It is something that can live only
in the atmosphere of causal lawfulness” (Hua V, p. 30).
2
For example, despite the meticulous reconstruction given of Husserl’s view on material thing,
Sokolowski 1974, ch.4 only briefly touches on the issue. Moreover, a recent, and otherwise excel-
lent, study by Hardy 2013 on Husserl’s view on the physical sciences seems to find the aspects of
Husserl’s thought that I will take up here to be relatively unproblematic (see especially p. 143).
3
The problem of circularity I will raise here does not involve the triad of subjectivity, world, inter-
subjectivity which Zahavi 2003, pp. 74–6 outlined.
4
Here, I will follow the characterization given by Zahavi 2003, pp. 72–3.
Things and Reality: A Problem for Husserl’s Theory of Constitution 31
analysis is an attempt to explicate object’s distinctive nature, to reveal its own being
in distinction to any other. Second, Husserl’s constitutional analysis tries to achieve
this explication in terms of each object’s respective mode of original givenness.
Here, the idea is that different types of objects (material things, alter egos, cultural
objects, animals, numbers, states of affairs, universals, etc.) have their own distinc-
tive ways in which they are originally given (as opposed to merely thought of, imag-
ined, expected, etc.),5 and that their natures—what their being consists in—can be
unveiled precisely by specifying these distinctive ways (Hua III/1, p. 349ff.; Hua I,
p. 98). So in short, we can say that to give a constitutional analysis of some object
amounts to explicating its nature by specifying the condition under which it is origi-
nally given.
Now what about real things? What is their mode of original givenness? In con-
sidering this question, especially in Ideas II, Husserl first notes that the real or mate-
rial thing has several “ontic meaning-layers” (Hua IV, p. 4, p. 27), where “layers”
are to be understood as various kinds of intentional or noematic unities. Then he
goes on to explicate how each layer is gradually constituted (Hua IV, p. 55), and
throughout this constitution process, the same basic pattern recurs: in each stage,
the condition under which some object is originally presented is specified by invok-
ing certain manifolds of that which is constituted in the foregoing stage, and the
former in turn serves as component of presenting manifold in the next stage (Hua
III/1, p. 352).
To be more concrete, Husserl appears to distinguish at least six stages in his
analysis: The first stage is where various sense-data become present as sort of uni-
ties within the manifold of fundamental time-consciousness (Hua IV, p. 21f.; Hua
III/1, p. 182, p. 191ff.). The second stage is the move from this sense-data to what
Husserl calls “thing-schemes” or “phantoms” (Hua IV, p. 22f., p. 127). The third
stage is the movement from thing-schemes to “material” or “real” things in rudi-
mentary sense, where “objectivity” or in-itself-ness of things first emerges (Hua IV,
p. 41ff.). The fourth stage takes into account the contributions of bodily sensation
(kinesthesis), and thereby constitutes “real” things in the sense of those given in
normal or optimal conditions (Hua IV, p. 55f.). At the fifth stage, the “physical”
things in the proper sense, inquired by physical science, are constituted as those
things stripped of every subject-relative feature (Hua IV, p. 75ff.). Finally, the sixth
stage is the transition from solipsistic to intersubjective world, where the objective
material world in the fullest sense is reached (Hua IV, p. 79ff.).6
Now, although there may be plenty of interesting points to be discussed about
these various levels of constitution, in this essay I shall largely ignore them, and
focus instead on one point. I will focus specifically on the third stage, which con-
sists in the move from “thing-schemes” to “material things.” Since Husserl uses
5
The same idea is often expressed in terms of “rules” prescribed by each type of object (see, for
example, Hua III/1, p. 350; Hua IV, p. 86). Also, for a useful discussion of this idea, see Sokolowski
1974, pp. 102–6.
6
More precisely, Husserl seems to think that the order of the fifth and sixth stages can be inter-
changeable (Hua IV, p. 82).
32 T. Akiba
“material” and “real” (or “substantial”) interchangeably in this context, we can refer
to his view on this constitutional stage as his account of “reality constitution,” where
“reality” is understood in a relatively primitive sense (as compared to “reality” in
higher stages of constitution).
Before looking at this account, it is perhaps better to clarify the two terms
involved here. On the one hand, a “thing-scheme” can be characterized as a kind of
proto-thing, or as “bodily (“spatial”) shape with qualitative contents extending over
it” (Hua IV, p. 37; Hua III/1, p. 350). Thus, a thing-scheme is a spatial extension
with a certain (to some extent specific) size and form, which is fulfilled with various
sensible qualities such as color, smoothness, warmth, etc. So, for instance, when we
look into a stereoscope and see a red pyramid-shaped three-dimensional extension,
we have a visual thing-scheme of which it can be truly said that it is red, rough, and
pyramid-shaped, etc. (Hua IV, p. 36).
As regards “real things,” on the other hand, they are characterized as intentional
unities presented through these thing-schemes (Hua IV, p. 41f., p. 127). For ease of
discussion, let us understand “scheme manifold” to mean a set of time slices of
thing-schemes that are spatiotemporally continuous, which may or may not involve
its elements’ qualitative or positional changes. Thus, according to Husserl, a real
thing is that which is originally given when a scheme manifold satisfies certain
appropriate condition (to which we shall return shortly). As compared to thing-
schemes, real things are said to have a super-flus of material properties such as
weight, elasticity, magnetic force (in addition to sensible properties), that were com-
pletely lacking in thing-schemes (Hua IV, p. 36).7 Furthermore, the being of a real
thing is not so intimately tied to its sensible appearances as was the case by thing-
scheme: a real thing has the character of “existing in itself, whether it is perceived
or not” (Hua III/1, p. 104). In other words, real things have a certain sort of “tran-
scendence” or “objectivity”—though in the limited sense of objectivity for self-
forgetting and solipsistic subject (Hua IV, p. 65ff., p. 77ff.; Hua, III/1, p. 352).
Yet, it is obvious that not every scheme manifold constitutes a real thing. So what
condition must be met in order for a given scheme manifold to qualify as reality
constituting? This is the very question Husserl has to answer in his account of real-
ity constitution, and the key condition he invokes to this end is, as is well known, the
causal dependence to environment (Umgebung). Here, the “causal dependence”
means functional or lawful regularity, which can be summarized by the rule “under
the same situation, the same effect” (Hua IV, p. 46, p. 48). So, according to Husserl,
even when a scheme manifold exhibits a perfectly harmonious sequence of intrinsic
changes (or non-change), that is not enough for it to present a real thing, as long as
it is isolated from its surroundings (Hua IV, p. 36, p. 40). A real thing is presented,
Husserl says, when and only when a scheme manifold is seen to functionally depend
on its surrounding situations, such that any change in the former is in accordance
with, and regulated by, some change in the latter. Thus, if a certain manifold of
visual schemes is present and their colors gradually change (in hue, shade, and
7
According to Husserl, whereas thing-schemes can fail to constitute a real thing, real things must
contain thing-schemes as their basic components (Grundstück) (Hua IV, p. 37; Hua III/1, p. 350).
s aturation) according to changes of external light condition, then the scheme mani-
fold acquires the status of the temporary “expression” of a real thing endowed with
the “objective” properties (this time, color), which is what remains identical through
changing appearances that are schemes (Hua IV, p. 41f.).
In this way, then, Husserl holds that real things are present when scheme mani-
folds functionally depend on their environments. According to him, this feature of
causal dependence is precisely the “ontological form” of reality in general (Hua IV,
p. 42, p. 125f., p. 136).
3 A Problem of Circularity
However, as I have suggested in the introduction, there is a seemingly serious dif-

ficulty for this account of reality constitution. This section presents that difficulty,
which turns out to be a typical circularity problem.
Before entering into my argument, though, two more preparatory remarks are in
order. First, as we have seen, Husserl intends to specify the conditions for scheme
manifolds to constitute real things. Concerning this, we shall say in what follows
that a scheme manifold has “the reality-constituting character” when it qualifies as
constituting a real thing. Secondly, and more importantly, we should clarify what
kind of entities those things are that are called “environments” or “surrounding situ-
ations” here. On this point, Husserl’s view is unambiguous: he says in several places
that surrounding situations are themselves schemes, just as what depends on them
(Hua IV, p. 41f., p. 46). Thus, we can understand the functional dependence of a
scheme manifold on its environment now as a relation between scheme manifolds,8
one of which plays the role of environment and the other of which plays the reality-
constituting role.
With these points in mind, it might appear tempting to, at least initially, formu-
late Husserl’s account of reality constitution as follows:
(H1) A scheme manifold M has the reality-constituting character if and only if there
is some scheme manifold M*, such that i) M is disjoint from M*, and ii) M func-
tionally depends on M*.
This seems to capture the idea that a scheme manifold is reality-constituting in vir-
tue of functional dependence on some situation surrounding it.
8
Very roughly speaking, this relation can be expressed as: scheme manifold M functionally
depends on scheme manifold M* iff there is some appropriate function from M* to M, that assigns
for each element of M* (as causal factor) some element of M (as outcome). We should note two
things about this relation. First, to be “appropriate,” the function here invoked should meet several
conditions, particularly important among them would be the “natural lawfulness” condition (see §5
below). Second, the function in question should in fact be much more complex than this formula-
tion may suggest. For, it must be sensitive to whatever intrinsic properties the dependent schemes
(those in M) have, and also to what other factors (than M*) come to influence the outcome, so that
the function would have to take the form of multiply conditional assignment.
34 T. Akiba
However, this account is clearly inadequate. To begin our demonstration as to

why this is the case, let us suppose that (H1) is correct. If this is the case, then it fol-
lows that for a scheme manifold to have the reality-constituting character, its func-
tional dependence on some other scheme manifold suffices. Yet obviously, this is not
true, for there can be functional dependence between scheme manifolds without
reality constitution.
For instance, suppose that you are given a manifold of ball-shaped visual
schemes, the colors of whose members shift gradually from red to blue in temporal
order. Call this manifold B. Now at the same time, there is another manifold of
lamp-shaped schemes, call it L, whose members emit various shades of light and
serve as light condition for B in perfectly harmonious (functional) way: when the
light of L’s members changes from red to blue, the colors of B’s members shift
accordingly, and when the former remain the same, so do the latter, etc. In this case,
the manifold B functionally depends on L, and there seems to be no problem so far.
However, suppose further that all this happens while you are knowingly wearing a
high-spec 3D-glasses (or some other virtual experience apparatus). This alters noth-
ing about the status and nature of schemes as schemes: exactly the same schemes
can be present whether you are wearing the 3D-glasses or not. But evidently, in this
case, the fact that B functionally depends on L in no way guarantees that B has a
reality-constituting character—or, more intuitively, that it presents a real ball
endowed with its objective color—since there is none to be presented. (Subjectively,
or noetically, speaking, any motivation to apprehend some real thing based on B and
L need not arise.) Notice here that to make the case more complex does not help; for
no matter how many more scheme manifolds (in addition to L) you introduce,
another scenario to the same effect can be concocted. Therefore, a merely functional
dependence of scheme manifolds does not suffice for reality constitution, which
means that (H1) is false.
Now, of course, this objection could be avoided if we require that the surround-
ing situations invoked here be themselves real. In the above case, if the manifold L
(serving as source of illumination for B) were not a mere scheme manifold but a
reality-constituting one, we could have safely assumed that B is so, too. For, it is but
natural to think that what interacts with some portion of reality is itself real. Indeed,
as if anticipating this move, at several places Husserl characterizes surrounding situ-
ations as “real” (Hua IV, p. 47, p. 124, p. 126). For instance, he says that “a thing
alters, under fully determinate alternation of real situation, in likewise determinate
ways” (Hua IV, p. 47, my emphasis). Or again, “with [real] states, we are referred
back to the real circumstances in the form of dependence of real thing on other real
thing” (Hua IV, p. 126, original emphasis). These passages strongly suggest that
Husserl endorsed the following view:
is some scheme manifold M*, such that i) M is disjoint from M*, and ii) M func-
tionally depends on M*, and iii) M* has the reality-constituting character.
It is evident, however, that adding condition iii) makes the account plainly circu-
lar. For, in answering the question of how a given scheme manifold can obtain the
reality-constituting character, (H2) appeals to that very character. But what value
could an account that employs the very notion to be explicated have? It is hard to
see, because in that case, one would be simply taking for granted the target notion,
and this makes one’s account completely uninformative and non-explanatory. So,
the difficulty Husserl faces in his account of reality constitution is this: if he does
not stop at (H1), which is incorrect, he has to adopt (H2), which is circular.
4 From Circularity to Infinite Regress
How can one respond to this problem? Since sticking to (H1) is unpromising and not
Husserl’s position anyway (I assume), the only possibility left is to live with (H2).9
But how can Husserl do this? How can he—or anyone sympathetic to his account—
uphold (H2) despite the circularity charge given above? In the rest of this essay, I
shall search for the answer to this question. And in this section, I will start this
search by examining two possible reasons for claiming that circularity is not neces-
sarily bad. As it turns out, these reasons do not help us in the present context, but
examining them will serve to sharpen the real challenge that (H2) should meet.
Thus, on the basis of this sharpening, my favorite solution will be presented in the
next section.
Let us begin with a first possible reason. It is simply that an account may well be
informative and explanatory even though it is circular.10 To simplify the matter, let
us focus our attention on philosophical account of some notion, F, which takes this
familiar form: for any x, x is F if and only if φ(x)—where the right-hand clause
“φ(x)” means to specify the necessary and sufficient condition for something to be
an F. Then, an account is called circular when the right-hand clause φ(x) employs
the target notion F itself in some way.
9
Here, one might think that there is another way we could explore. That is, one could attempt to
revise (H1) in different way than by referring to (H2). Although this is in a sense what I shall do
myself (see §§5 and 6 below), we should not expect the process to be easy. For, in addition to the
fact that simply abandoning (H2) will not do as Husserl reading, the required revision of (H1) is not
that easy. As a first example, one might be tempted to bring in some substantive notion of causality
(stronger than functional dependence), and say that only those scheme manifolds which stand in
this substantive causal relation are reality-constituting. Indeed, Husserl sometimes seems to sug-
gest this route when he characterizes causality as a relation holding between real entities (Hua IV,
p. 126). It is clear, however, that this maneuver does not make the situation better, if not only
because of the previously mentioned problem of circularity. As a second example, it might seem
promising to replace “some scheme manifold” in the right-hand of (H1) for “sufficiently many
scheme manifolds” or something like that. Yet this strategy does not work either, for if one under-
stands “sufficiently many” in a reasonably moderate sense, a high quality virtual experience
machine gives counterexample, and if one understands this phrase in such a strong sense as to
exclude counterexample, one would fall into circularity or question-beggingness.
10
The following discussion owes greatly to Humberstone 1997 and Keefe 2002. Humberstone’s
distinction between (merely) analytical and inferential circularity roughly corresponds to that
between vicious and benign circularity in our next paragraph.
36 T. Akiba
Now, admittedly, there are cases in which circularity, in the sense we have
described here, can decisively undermine a philosophical account. Take, for
instance, an account of personhood which claims “x is a person iff x knows that x is
a person” (Humberstone 1997, p. 252f.). Obviously, this account fails to be infor-
mative or explanatory because, far from providing the understanding of what it is
for something to be a person, its right-hand clause simply presupposes and relies on
it: in order to determine whether a given object a satisfies the right-hand, we have to
first establish whether a is a person (since knowledge implies truth). Importantly,
however, not all circular accounts are like this. For instance, take a so-called
response-dependence account of yellowness (or secondary qualities in general),
according to which an object x is yellow iff x is disposed to look yellow to normal
perceivers under the right conditions (Smith 1993). Or, consider an acceptance-
dependence account of money, which says (roughly) that x is money iff x is accepted
as money by appropriate institution (cf. Keefe 2002, p. 276).
What is important about these accounts is that, although their right-hand clauses
surely employ the target notions, they can be kept independent of the left-hand
clause: one can determine whether a given a satisfies the right-hand without know-
ing whether a satisfies the left-hand. Consequently, these accounts have at least
chance to claim to be revealing the nature of F-ness, or elucidating what it is to be
F (though, of course, whether they are correct is another matter). Hence, some cir-
cular accounts might be benign, since a mere employment of target notion in the
right-hand does not prevent it from being informative and explanatory.
Unfortunately, however, this consideration does not help in the context of our
present discussion. Let us admit, for the sake of argument, that some circular
accounts (such as those listed above) are indeed benign. Even if we admit this, the
problem remains that the type of circularity involved in Husserl’s account of reality
constitution—understood here as (H2)—is not benign. According to this account,
recall, a given scheme manifold has the reality-constituting character if and only if
there is some other such manifold on which the first functionally depends, and
which has precisely this character. This account presupposes, in the right-hand
clause, precisely the understanding of what it is for something to have the target
character, even though the possessor of it is different from the one mentioned in the
left-hand. Therefore, (H2) is more like the account of personhood above than it is
like the supposedly benign ones: it not only employs the target notion F, but relies
on the very understanding of what it is to be F.
Nevertheless, one might still argue that even this sort of reliance on understand-
ing of target notion is not necessarily objectionable,11 and that this constitutes a
second possible reason to meet circularity charge. To see how one can argue in this
way, take, for instance, the standard inductive definition of natural number, accord-
ing to which x is a natural number iff x is zero, or there is some natural number y
such that x is the successor of y. Or, consider a trope theoretic account of resem-
blance between concrete particulars, according to which particulars x and y resemble
11
My discussion in this paragraph owes a great deal to Keefe 2002, pp. 286–91.
each other iff some of x’s trope and some of y’s resemble each other.12 What is
important about these cases is that, although they require some prior understanding
of their target notions (i.e. of what it is to be F), this requirement is only local. And
because of this locality, these accounts can claim to be informative and explanatory,
for they are explaining on the basis of limited resources how the extension of the
target notion as a whole is generated and structured, thereby illuminating at least
part of its nature. As Lewis said rather sympathetically about the so-called non-
reductive account of modality (which, incidentally, is not his own position), “it
would be no small advance if we could explain modality in general by taking one
very special case of it … as primitive” (Lewis 1986, p. 155).
Though this point itself might be interesting, it is not applicable to our current
case. The essential feature of the accounts invoked here is that there are some base-
cases, where certain privileged items qualify as being F, without being conferred
F-ness by something else. However, as we can see easily, in the case of Husserl’s
reality constitution one cannot suppose the existence of such “base-cases,” which
would have to be some privileged scheme manifolds that have the reality-constituting
character somehow in its own right, and that confer this character to any manifold
functionally dependent on it—a mysterious postulation. So here, we have to resign
any appeal to such base-cases and should do without them.
Yet this being so, we are now in a position to see that the genuine challenge for
(H2) is not so much circularity as it is infinite regress. For, even if we are generous
enough to permit the second type of circularity mentioned above, it still appears that
by adopting (H2), we become involved in an infinite vicious regress which makes it
unintelligible as to how something can have the reality-constituting character—a
very minimal fact to be accommodated. Let us see why.13 If we acknowledge (H2),
then a scheme manifold can have the reality-constituting character only in virtue of
some other scheme manifold (on which the first functionally depends) possessing
the same character. Of course, the latter manifold can have this character only in
virtue of still other manifold possessing it, and this process goes on and on, without
end (since there is no “base-case”). Clearly at no stage of this regress is there any
scheme manifold that has the reality-constituting character simpliciter, because
what all of them have is at most this conditional property: being reality-constituting
if the next manifold in the regress is reality-constituting. And since these “ifs” will
not be cancelled no matter how many new manifolds we add, the reality-constituting
“would be infinitely deferred, never achieved” (Schaffer 2010, p. 37). Therefore, it
appears that (H2) makes this very phenomenon unintelligible, rather than explaining
how reality constitution is possible.
12
Other examples may be cited: the logical atomist (or a truthmaker non-maximalist) account of
truth, non-reductive account of causation, the account of sameness of type by sparse theory of
property, etc.
13
The following regress argument is one instance of what Gillett 2003, pp. 712–3 calls “Structural
Objection.”
38 T. Akiba
5 Reality as a Holistic Emergent Property
So then, what should we do? If (H2) leads to an infinite vicious regress and thereby
makes it incomprehensible that anything has the reality-constituting character at all,
how can Husserl still hold this claim? Fortunately, there is a possible way out of this
predicament, which consists in rejecting the claim that (H2) leads to an infinite
vicious regress. In this section I shall present this possible solution and explain how
it works, and then argue that it is plausibly the one adopted by Husserl himself.
The first and most important thing to observe here is that the regress argument
just presented had a tacit but substantial assumption, which concerns the general
way in which a property is conferred to something. More precisely, the assumption
is that the reality-constituting character meets what we may call “the transmission
model” of property-conferral.14 This model can be defined as follows: a property P
meets the transmission model just in case the normal (or only) way in which an
entity possesses P is by receiving it from other entity that is suitably related to the
first and that already possesses P.15 To put matters more intuitively, properties meet-
ing this model are those that can be passed on among suitably related entities, just
as a basketball can be passed from one player to another, or the ownership rights of
a certain real estate property can be transferred from one owner to other via due
legal procedures.
Clearly, this conception of property-conferral is what generates the regress prob-
lem in many cases, as a cursory glance at some traditional examples shows.16 For
instance, if one conceives of the property of moving as meeting the transmission
model, i.e., as a property that is transmitted from one object to another via the rela-
tion of spatial contact, then the problem of how there could be the first moving
object inevitably arises. Likewise, if one takes the property of being justified to be
transmitted from beliefs to beliefs via some inference relation, the problem of how
any belief can be justified becomes inescapable, as the old epistemological debate
shows (cf. Klein 2003). And as is thus suggested, the same is true of the case at
hand, namely the regress problem concerning the reality constitution: it is precisely
because the reality-constituting character was assumed to meet the transmission
model that it has become mysterious where this character comes from in the first
place. As long as we stick to this model, the regress problem seems to be inevitable
and perhaps unanswerable.
14
The basic distinction between the transmission model and the emergent model (which we shall
see shortly) is discussed by BonJour 1985, p. 89ff., Gillett 2003, p. 715, Klein 2003, p. 726f.,
Morganti 2015, p. 560, among others, although the names they assign to these models are not
always the same — the transmission model is sometimes called “linear” one while the emergent
model is called “non-linear,” “holistic.”
15
The phrase “normal” in the definient is needed to accommodate cases which have base-cases.
16
One may add Leibniz’s argument for the existence of atoms to the following two examples (cited
by Morganti 2015, p. 558), which takes actuality (or reality) to be transmitted from parts to whole
via mereological composition.
However, there is an alternative conception of property-conferral, which can be

dubbed “the emergent model.”17 On this model, an entity comes to hold property P
not by receiving it from another possessor of P, but by belonging to a certain sort of
system that satisfies some suitable conditions, and it is only as a constituent of such
a system that anything manages to have P. Thus, on the emergent model, property
P emerges primarily at the level of whole: it is not that entities are first P and then
get together to make up a system of P-entities; rather, it is by virtue of otherwise
non-P-entities’ making up a certain whole that they come to have P. Moreover,
since property P comes from the whole in this way, the possession of it by individ-
ual entities can be both automatic and egalitarian. That is, P is conferred to them as
soon as they make up the relevant whole, without further ado (of transmission of P
among them); and there need not be any difference in priority among P-entities with
regard to the possession of P: they may get P all simultaneously or in block, as it
were.18
To illustrate this point, we should take another look at the property of being justi-
fied, and consider how the possession of this property by beliefs is accounted for by
the coherence theory of justification.19 According to this theory, what makes a belief
justified is not the fact that it is inferable from other belief that already has its own
justification (as has been supposed in traditional considerations on the regress prob-
lem). Rather, a belief is justified primarily because it belongs to a system of inferen-
tially connected beliefs which is coherent (in the sense specified by the theory), and
whose constituents acquire their justification all at once.
More importantly for present purposes, when applied to the reality-constituting
character, the emergent model generates the following account of reality constitu-
tion: a scheme manifold has the reality-constituting character in virtue of belonging
to some system of scheme manifolds connected by the relation of functional depen-
dence, which satisfies some further suitable conditions (to which we shall return
below). So, on this account, the seemingly local property of reality actually derives
from some global characteristics of the whole: it comes to parts in virtue of their
whole’s being of some appropriate, “reality-bestowing” type.
Now, if we accept this account based on the emergent model then, remarkably,
(H2) no longer leads to infinite vicious regress. To be sure, (H2) claims that a given
scheme manifold M has the reality-constituting character just in case M functionally
depends on some other manifold M* which has the reality-constituting character.
Yet, crucially, it is only when this claim is combined with the transmission model
that it gives rise to the crucial question of what other scheme manifold confers the
reality-constituting character to M*, thereby triggering off the regress. Thus, by
17
This model, also called “non-linear” or “holistic,” is adopted by BonJour 1985 and Klein 2003 in
epistemological context.
18
This does not exclude the possibility that a system of P-entities can be extended, as is evident in
the case of a belief system. See also the second question in the next section.
19
The sort of coherence theory I have in mind here is that of BonJour 1985, although he later
changed his position.
40 T. Akiba
rejecting the transmission model (in favor of emergent model), we can save (H2)
from the regress charge.
Therefore, we have found (at last) a way to uphold (H2) peacefully, and hence to
respond successfully to the problem presented in §3. If we act on the assumption
that Husserl acknowledges that (H2) is correct, then this gives us good reason to
interpret him as taking the emergent model in his account of reality constitution.
Indeed, this reading has one further merit: it makes an aspect of Husserl’s view
naturally understandable. As we know, Husserl often says a real thing is what it is
(i.e. real thing) only as a constituent of causally interconnected whole. For instance,
the following passage is clear on this point:
A thing is what it is only as constituent of surrounding thingness (Dinglichkeit), and this
latter itself again, and finally each thing-complex is only thinkable, whether as actual or as
merely possible, in relation to endlessly open world comprising it. In the experience, a thing
has an open meaning, to which belongs an open infinity of validatable (auszuweisend) and
systematic infinite style, and with it infinite style of possible causality, that must be deter-
minable in the experience—if the empirical thing in fact is. (Hua XXXII, p. 206)
But how, one may ask, could Husserl claim that things need to belong to such a
whole in order to be real? If we assume Husserl did take the emergent model, the
answer can be straightforward: it is simply because he took reality itself to be one of
emergent properties, capable of being had only by constituent of certain whole, that
he could claim that having it requires belonging to that sort of whole.20
Let’s take stock. We have considered how Husserl could adopt (H2), despite the
fact that it seems to lead us to an infinite regress (if not viciously circular). The
answer I provided in this section is that he could do this because he was taking the
emergent model about reality. This reading nicely saves him from the regress charge
and has further advantage. So I claim that this is the proper Husserlian solution.
6 Questions and Replies
At this point, however, several questions may arise. Thus in this section, I shall try
to respond to them, with a view to clarify the account given in the previous section
further. A first question concerns the status of (H2) under the emergent model. As we
have seen, the account of reality constitution on this model runs as follows:
is some system of scheme manifolds S, such that i) M is a constituent of S, and
ii) all constituents of S are connected by functional dependence, and iii) S satis-
fies further suitable conditions to be reality-bestowing.
But if this is so, it may become unclear what status (H2) has under the emergent
model. For, if the official account of reality constitution is given by (H3), then as
what kind of claim can one adopt (H2)? Roughly put, our answer to this query is that
For another possible illumination, see the concluding remark below.

20
under the emergent model, (H2) can be regarded as an equivalent but derivative
claim as compared to (H3). To see why, take an arbitrary scheme manifold, M0, and
compare the necessary and sufficient conditions (H2) and (H3) give for the proposi-
tion “M0 has the reality-constituting character” respectively:
(H2-R) There is some scheme manifolds M*, such that i) M* is disjoint from M0, and
ii) M0 functionally depends on M*, and iii) M* has the reality-constituting
character.
(H3-R) There is some system of scheme manifolds S, such that i) M0 is a constituent
of S, and ii) all constituents of S are connected by functional dependence, and iii)
S satisfies further suitable conditions to be reality-bestowing.
Then, it is easy to show that (H2-R) follows form (H3-R), and vice versa.21 Yet in
spite of this, there is a difference in determinative priority between the two: the truth
of (H2-R) is grounded in that of (H3-R), while the converse does not hold. For, on
the emergent model, the manifold M*‘s having reality-constituting character derives
from the system S’s being of appropriate type, and not the other way around (as we
saw earlier). Thus, when compared to (H3), (H2) gives an extensionally equivalent
but determinatively derivative way to state the necessary and sufficient condition for
reality-constitution. Further, we should add that (H2) is a kind of abbreviation of
(H3), in that the former only talks about individual manifolds while skipping any
discussions of their system, which is invoked by the latter as the genuine determina-
tive ground. (As we shall see, this feature of (H2) is particularly apt for epistemo-
logical context.)
However, we find a second question here: if (H3) means to specify the determina-
tive ground of reality constitution, what are the “suitable conditions” it invokes in
clause iii), the satisfaction of which is supposed to make a system of scheme mani-
fold “reality-bestowing” one? This question is important because as long as it is left
unanswered, the explanatory burden concerning reality is not met by (H3), and per-
haps the threat of circularity comes up again—though this time in the system-
constituent relation. Hence, we need to specify somehow the relevant conditions
independently of the notion of reality. Obviously, this is no easy task and requires
more of us than we are capable of doing here.22 Still, there are several points worth
mentioning, that may serve as indications for future work of reconstructing a full
account of reality along Husserlian lines.
21
Suppose, on the one hand, that (H3-R) is true. Then there must be some scheme manifold—call
it M*— on which M0 functionally depends, since S is a system of functionally dependent mani-
folds. Furthermore, this M* must have the reality-constituting character, since S is of reality-
bestowing type, and thus confers this character to all its constituents. Hence (H2-R) follows.
Suppose, on the other hand, that (H2-R) is true. Then there must be some system of scheme mani-
fold— S— which contains M0 as constituent, since M0 has the reality-constituting character, and
under the emergent model, this is only possible when M0 belongs to some system of reality-
bestowing type. So (H3-R) follows.
22
Obviously, this problem is parallel to that the coherence theory of justification faces (cf. BonJour
1985, ch.5).
42 T. Akiba
First, in order for a system of scheme manifold to qualify as reality-bestowing, it

must have certain kind of comprehensiveness. For example, remember the case of
3D-glasses discussed in §3, where a manifold of ball-shaped schemes (=B) func-
tionally depends on a manifold of lamp-shaped schemes (=L). What is bad about
this “B-L system,” we can surmise, is its isolation from a more encompassing sys-
tem. That is, B-L system (or for that matter, any bigger system within the range of
virtual experience) is isolated from all changes of tactual, auditory and gustatory
schemes, and also from changes of visual schemes you have once you put off the
3D-glasses. And since all these latter schemes constitute an overwhelmingly more
comprehensive system, B-L system may be degraded as mere “happening,” not to be
seriously taken as part of reality.
Second, it is plausible to assume that the relevant system must have certain natu-
ral lawfulness. Remember the (in)famous considerations on the “annihilation of the
world” Husserl gave in Ideas I (Hua III/1, p. 103ff.). Roughly put, Husserl argues
that if all there is about schemes is their random coming and going, with no intui-
tively apprehensible regularity in them, there will be no real thing and no real world
constituted through them. This argument, as I take it, imposes a constraint on the
sort of functional dependence which is apt for reality-bestowing system, for there
may be some “functional dependence” even among random-looking sequences of
schemes if we understand this notion loosely enough. So, the functional dependence
in question should not be of gerrymandered type, so that the rule of “the same situ-
ation, the same effect” can be meaningfully applied.
Third, in order to be reality-bestowing, a system of scheme manifold must have
certain sort of super-consistency. That is, it should be such that when (in future experi-
ence) some new scheme manifolds are added to it to make a more comprehensive
system, its old constituents can be retained without contradiction with the new ones,
which would deprive the former of the status of reality in the new system. This aspect
of reality-bestowing system is suggested, I take it, by Husserl’s frequent mention of
“harmonious extendability” (Hua III/1, p. 346f.). And this condition is needed at any
rate because real things should continue to be real if they have become real at all—this
is perhaps part of how our concept of reality works. Though synoptic and tentative,
these discussions should suffice as a suggestion for future development and refine-
ment of the account of reality constitution in the framework of the emergent model.
Still, a third query may arise, especially in relation to the last condition above: if
we adopt (H3) as the constitutive account of reality, then are we not forced to admit
that it is impossible for us to know that such-and-such are real things (i.e., such-and-
such scheme manifolds have the reality-constituting character)? For, according to
(H3), whether something is real or not depends on whether the system containing it
satisfies some suitable conditions (including, probably, those discussed above).
Thus, in order to establish such-and-such as real, we have to establish that there is
such a system actually meeting these required conditions. This is, however, clearly
impossible to establish, given the tremendous breath and open extendability of such
a system. Hence, we can never be certain about reality of any things.
In order to allay this concern, the first thing we can point out is that the impos-
sibility in question here is merely epistemic (in the ordinary sense). That is, what is
said to be impossible is only our knowing or establishing the truth of (H3-R)—the
right-hand of (H3)—and not the metaphysical possibility of (H3-R) itself. In this

respect, our present concern is different from the one concerning infinite regress we
have previously discussed, which was a threat for the very obtainability of constitu-
tive condition of reality. And this being so, we can see that the alleged worrisome
consequence of (H3) is in fact as things should be. For, it is a familiar (Husserlian)
point that our beliefs about material world are always open to correction: for each
belief we have about material reality, it remains always and in principle possible for
it to be cancelled or replaced.
Having said this, we should quickly add that (H3) does not make our epistemic
endeavor meaningless or arbitrary. For, even if an infallible certainty is unavailable,
this does not prevent us to proceed, on each occasion, on well-founded presumptions
that have more or less “weight.”23 Suppose you are given a scheme manifold. If you
want to check whether this manifold has the reality-constituting character, what you
must do is (in addition to checking its internal coherence) see whether it stands in
functional dependence to some other scheme manifold that has already been pre-
sumed to belong to a reality-bestowing system.24 To consider the matter from a dif-
ferent angle, we could suppose that you have preemptively taken the whole system
as a kind of framework to be fulfilled (or as world-horizon), and along with it a body
of beliefs that are more or less good candidates for fulfilling this framework; and the
latter beliefs function, on each particular occasion, as a temporarily fixed back-
ground against which the reality-constitutingness of newcomer manifold is to be
accessed. Although this fixedness is not final, these beliefs can be more or less well-
founded, because of and in proportion to their integrity and coherence to other
beliefs. So our epistemic endeavor loses no significance when we accept (H3).
7 Concluding Remarks
In this essay, I have considered a problem for Husserl’s constitutional analysis of

material reality. The problem considered here was that, in order to explain how a
real thing can be constituted, Husserl seemed to illegitimately appeal to other real
things already constituted. This seemingly regress-inviting view can be made right,
I argue, by supposing that Husserl was taking a holistic or emergent conception of
reality. As a final word, I would like to point out that the holistic picture attributed
here to Husserl may illuminate our reading of his philosophy in other ways as well.
Suppose we accept the notion that in some cases, what kind of property parts can
have is determined by what kind of whole they belong to. Then it becomes naturally
understandable, it seems, why the full-blooded objectivity cannot accrue to things
except in the constitutional system of intersubjectivity, and hence why Husserl takes
intersubjectivity as the ultimate ground of objective world, as he says at the end of
Cartesian Meditations: “The intrinsically first being, that precedes and bears every
worldly objectivity, is the transcendental intersubjectivity” (Hua I, p. 182).
For a fulfilling discussion of a related point, see BonJour 1985, p. 90ff.

23
As we saw earlier, this is roughly what (H2) instructs us to do.

24
44 T. Akiba
References
Husserl’s Works
[Hua I] Cartesianische Meditationen und Pariser Vorträge, hrsg. von S. Strasser, Martinus Nijhoff,
1950.
[Hua III/1] Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie, Erstes
Buch, hrsg. von K. Schuhmann, Martinus Nijhoff, 1976.
[Hua IV] Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie, Zweites
Buch, hrsg. von M. Biemel, Martinus Nijhoff, 1952.
[Hua V] Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie, Drittes
Buch, hrsg. von M. Biemel, Martinus Nijhoff, 1971.
[Hua XXXII] Natur und Geist: Vorlesungen Sommersemester 1927, hrsg. von M. Weiler, Kluwer,
2001.
Other Works
BonJour, L. 1985. The Structure of Empirical Knowledge. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
Gillett, K. 2003. Infinitism Redux? A Response to Klein. Philosophy and Phenomenological
Research 66: 709–717.
Hardy, L. 2013. Nature’ Suit: Husserl’s Phenomenological Philosophy of the Physical Sciences.
Athens: Ohio University Press.
Humberstone, L. 1997. Two Types of Circularity. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research
57: 249–280.
Keefe, R. 2002. When Does Circularity Matter? Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 102:
253–270.
Klein, P. 2003. When Infinite Regresses Are Not Vicious. Philosophy and Phenomenological
Research 66: 718–729.
Lewis, D. 1986. A Plurality of Worlds. Oxford: Blackwell.
Morganti, M. 2015. Dependence, Justification and Explanation: Must Reality Be Well-Founded?
Erkenntnis 80: 555–572.
Schaffer, J. 2010. Monism: The Priority of the Whole. Philosophical Review 119: 31–76.
Smith, M. 1993. Color, Transparency, Mind-Independence. In Reality, Representation, and
Projection, ed. J. Haldane and C. Wright, 269–278. New York: Oxford University Press.
Sokolowski, R. 1974. Husserlian Meditations: How Words Present Things. Evanston: Northwestern
University Press.
Zahavi, D. 2003. Husserl’s Phenomenology. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Takeshi Akiba (Ph.D., Keio University) is Associate Professor at Chiba University. He is author

of Shinri kara Sonzai e [From Truth to Reality] (Shunjusha, 2014) and coauthor of Gendai
Keijijougaku [Contemporary Metaphysics] (Shinyosha, 2014). His research topics are the analytic
metaphysics, the early phenomenology, and the contemporary metaethics.
On the Transcendence and Reality
of Husserlian Objects
Yutaka Tomiyama
Abstract We often expect Husserl’s concept of intentionality to be the key to

opening our minds to the world. The phenomenological sphere of consciousness is
not a closed encapsulated sphere, but open to the world. The phenomenological
method, however, forbids appealing to naïve realism exclusively as it concentrates
on immanently accessible conscious experiences. How can these two features be
compatible with one another? This paper examines this question while seeking to
justify Husserl’s claim that an intentional object is the real and actual object itself,
and transcendent in the sense that it is beyond our grasp of meanings.
Keywords Husserl · Intentionality · Intentional objects · Meaning
1 Introduction
Many writers have emphasized that Husserl’s concept of intentionality means that
the mind is open to the public outer real world, rather than closed within private
internal encapsulated sphere. For example, Sokolowski wrote
One of phenomenology’s greatest contributions is to have broken out of the egocentric
predicament, to have checkmated the Cartesian doctrine. Phenomenology shows that the
Mind is a public thing, that it acts and manifests itself out in the open, not just inside its own
confines. Everything is outside. (Sokolowski, 2000, p. 12)
Of course, Husserl’s phenomenology imposes upon itself a methodological

restriction. Husserl forces us to concentrate on our lived experience itself, not to use
any theoretical hypothesis about the external world in order to explain the experi-
ences that have occurred in it. Indeed, Husserl once characterized his own phenom-
enology as “descriptive psychology” in his early period. How, then, can
phenomenologists assert that our mental acts successfully reach their true objects in
the real world? In fact, Husserl himself actually asserted that the intentional objects
Y. Tomiyama (*)
Graduate School of Humanities and Sociology, The University of Tokyo, Tokyo, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_4
46 Y. Tomiyama
of our mental acts are transcendent actual objects themselves. Husserl explicitly
asserts that “the intentional object of the presentation is the same as its actual, occa-
sionally outer object, and it is absurd to distinguish them” (Hua XIX/1, p. 439).
Why should we believe Husserl’s claim?
In order to discuss this problem, I will pick up three points we can find in
Husserl’s theory of intentionality first: The problem of non-existent objects, a kind
of internalism about grasping meaning and a uniformity of intentionality regardless
of the existence of the intended object. Secondly, I introduce three possible theoreti-
cal options to explain these three features. I will specifically discuss David Bell’s
interpretation of “intentional objects,” Jaakko Hintikka’s theory to using possible
world semantics and my own proposal inspired by and parallel to Michael Dummett’s
interpretation of Frege’s theory of meaning. Thirdly, I will appraise all of these
options. I will argue that only one of them shows promise, both philosophically and
as a model for faithful interpretation of the early Husserl’s theory of intentionality.
Finally, I will justify Husserl’s claim that an intentional object is the real, actual
object itself, transcendent in the sense that it goes beyond our grasp of meanings.
2 Intentionality in Mind
It is often emphasized that Husserl’s “mind” is open to the world, not enclosed
within the world-less subjective sphere, thanks to its essential property called
“intentionality.” Intentionality is the property that mental acts are acts about some
particular relevant objects. We cannot imagine without imagining something, love
without having something to love or think without thinking about something. These
mental acts are our attitudes toward some particular objects. They are “directed”
toward their objects in this sense. This directedness is called “intentionality”.
Thus, Husserl’s “mind” is related to objects other than itself, in virtue of having
intentionality. It is open to the world in this sense. Husserl’s phenomenology, how-
ever, is well known for its methodological constraint, to concentrate on the sphere
of our own lived experiences and not to presuppose the existence of the outer world
or its metaphysical structure, in explaining the structure and formation of our expe-
riences themselves. The concept of intentionality looks like magic, then. It is the
property of mind itself one can find without any metaphysical presuppositions,
which can guarantee that our cognitive activities successfully reach reality. In con-
trast with the theories of ideas in early modern philosophy, which struggled to
acquire such insurance for our knowledge, Husserl’s concept of intentionality may
seem to be an illusion, or a mere dogmatic declaration of desirable properties. How
can it be justified, without straying from Husserl’s original methodological insight?
This is the leading question of my present paper.
In order to argue about this in its detail, I will introduce three features of the early
Husserl’s theory of intentionality: The problem of non-existent objects, a kind of
internalism about grasping meaning and a uniformity of intentionality regardless of
the existence of the intended object. These are, I argue, not only textual constraints
On the Transcendence and Reality of Husserlian Objects 47
on historically correct interpretations of Husserl’s thought but also substantial con-

straints on philosophically satisfactory explanations of our experiences.
Firstly, the relevant object of a mental act sometimes fails to exist. In other words,
we can have an experience of a non-existent object. It might sound paradoxical
because it asserts that there is an object that is not there, and in fact, Husserl himself
considers this problem of non-existent objects to be puzzling and, thus, struggles to
find a satisfactory explanation (Hua XXII, p. 303). The phenomena mentioned here,
however, are not so strange and found in broad area of our experiences. We can
imagine fictional creatures like Pegasus and unicorns, or fictional characters like
Sherlock Holmes. We can think about probable causal effects of some theoretically
supposed entities like phlogiston, ether, or the planet Vulcan. We can desire unreal-
ized and fascinating situations. We can prove the non-existence of the roots for
some mathematical equations. These are all familiar and ordinary experiences to us,
and any sufficient account of intentionality requires us to put these experiences in
their proper place.
Secondly, although intended objects themselves are usually regarded as
transcendent, out of our minds, the directedness itself toward them is something
internal to our mind. To explain this, let us take an example. I saw my friend take
out a nice lunch box. I guess that “his wife is kind and loves him”. Since I have
never met his wife and she is not here, the intended object herself is something
external to my guessing experience in a sense. Namely, if someone were to ask me
who his wife is, I can correctly answer that “I don’t know.” Even if someone asks if
he is even married, I can answer “I’m not sure.” Although the intended object
towards which my guessing experience is directed is external in this sense, the
directedness itself is internal to my experience in certain sense. Indeed, if someone
asks me if I mean my friend has gotten married, I cannot say “I’m not sure, I don’t
know what ‘wife’ means”. Otherwise, I could have made this guess or held this
belief, even if I don’t understand the concepts forming its content as constituents. In
this case, what guarantees that I have experiences which have certain determinate
contents as their own contents? How could you distinguish my declarations about a
certain topic which I have experience with from mere delirium then? I can, as
mentioned above, say “Yes, I mean I guess he has got married and his wife is kind,
but I’m not sure whether it is correct.” However, I cannot say “I’m not sure what I
mean.” To make this situation clearer, let’s take another example. If I believe that
“29987 times 408 is larger than 12000000”, the intended object which is relevant to
my belief is the number produced by the multiplication “29987 times 408”. This
object itself is external to my belief in the sense that I can rightly say that I don’t
know what the product exactly amounts to, without giving up the notion that I
understand the content of my belief. In contrast, I cannot say that I don’t know what
the product of natural numbers generally means, without admitting that I don’t
understand the content of my alleged belief. The early Husserl himself pointed out
this as “evidence of assertion” in the second logical investigation (Hua XIX/1,
p. 206).
Thirdly, proper explanations of intentionality must be uniform, regardless of the
existence of the intended object. An example from mathematics might be helpful in
48 Y. Tomiyama
order to make this point clear. There are natural numbers called “perfect numbers”,
whose divisors (except itself) sum to itself. For example, 6’s divisors are 1, 2, 3, 6.
Since 6’s divisors except 6 itself sum to 1 + 2 + 3 = 6, 6 is a perfect number. It is still
unknown whether there is an odd perfect number. While I can think about the small-
est odd perfect number and its probable properties, I don’t know whether or not it
exists. Still, I do know what I am thinking about. It is nothing but the smallest odd
perfect number, which is precisely defined in relevant mathematical terms. Then,
the intentional character which determines my directedness toward the particular
relevant object, although I don’t know even the existence of the intended objects,
has been perfectly formed and possessed in my mind already. I have never adjusted
my way to think about the object in accordance with the existence of the object,
since it has not been known to me yet. For this reason, the formation of the inten-
tional character must be explained uniformly, in a manner which is available whether
the intended object exists or not. Husserl as follows: “For the consciousness, the
given is essentially the same, whether the presented object exists, or is invented, or
maybe absurd.” (Hua XIX/1, p. 387) Therefore, interpretations denying this should
be false at least as interpretations on the early Husserl (Simons 1995, p. 116).
3 Types of Theories
In order to develop a theory of intentionality by explaining these three features

appropriately, we must avoid relying upon the usual naive causal theory. Because it
must explain the intentionality toward non-existent objects, intentionality cannot be
explained by causal stimuli from its objects. Nevertheless, it is not trivially impos-
sible to try to explain intentionality by appealing to some kind of relation. David
Bell’s interpretation (or, more precisely, a kind of rational reconstruction) of
Husserl’s early theory of intentionality is an example of such a relational theory,
although Bell’s description contains some ambiguity and might be a mixture of a
relational theory and an adverbial theory.
Generally speaking, theories of intentionality are roughly classified into two
types: relational theories and adverbial theories. The former attempts to explain
intentionality appealing to some kind of relations between a mental act and its inten-
tional object, while the latter does not appeal to any relations between the act and its
object in explaining the directedness toward the object. Bell’s interpretation of the
early Husserl’s theory of intentionality assumes every mental act the corresponding
“intentional object,” even if it lacks a corresponding actual object in the real world.
This is not so unnatural, at least when considered in relation to its original
motivation. We can have a kind of mental act toward non-existent objects such as
Pegasus and Sherlock Holmes. In these cases, although we don’t have actual
corresponding objects in the real world, we can conceive of their shapes and other
properties, i.e., we can have mental images and the like. Thus, it stands to reason
that we have a right to say that we have some kind of “intentional objects” in our
mind, even if their corresponding actual objects fail to exist in the real world. If this
is true, intentionality can be explained by the relation between a mental act and its
“intentional object.”
Bell’s interpretation is this type of relational theory, at least in the sense that it
supposes an “intentional object” corresponding to every mental act (Bell 1990,
p. 138). He argues that adverbial theories have a difficulty that relational theories
do not, in that the former cannot explain how mental acts are related to reality.
Bell’s interpretation can be regarded, then, as an attempt to answer the same ques-
tion as this present paper: how can we give a justified explanation of how intention-
ality is related to reality. His argument takes following steps. Adverbial theorists
have no difficulty in explaining intentionality toward non-existent objects, because
they construe intentionality as a particular way to think. If we understand intention-
ality in this way, then thinking about Sherlock Holmes poses no difficulties to us,
because it is to think in a certain way, namely in a Sherlock-Holmes-directed-sort-
of-way. This is a mere simple adverbial modification of one’s way of thinking, and
does not presuppose any relation to Sherlock Holmes or something corresponding
it. It simply modifies what it is like to think in a way called a Sherlock-Holmes-
directed-sort-of-way. There is no need to suppose theoretical entities such as men-
tal images which are supposed to exist and explain the intentionality even if the
relevant actual object fails to exist. Their difficulty is, he argues, to explain why and
how intentionality acquires a relation to reality. If intentionality is merely a way to
think something expressible with an adverbial, it occurs completely within the
mind. It is difficult, then, to explain how and why the intentionality can acquire any
relation to reality, in the outer world. The only possible options are, he thinks, the
following two ways. First, one might think we can combine two kinds of explana-
tions. We use an adverbial theory in cases wherein the intended actual object fails
to exist, while we use a relational theory to explain intentionality as appealing to a
relation toward the intended actual object whenever it is available. As Bell correctly
points out, this option violates the uniformity of intentionality (Bell 1990, p. 133).
Second, one might choose an essentially adverbial theory uniformly, whether the
intended object exists or not, and further identify the adverbially understood (way
toward) “intentional object” as the real object itself, if there is any real object at all.
This option, however, is not intelligible because it would “identify” an immanent
way of thinking totally understood adverbially, totally within the mind, with an
actual, real object in the outer world. It is not an intelligible usage of the concept of
“identity.” Hence Bell argues that the only possible option is to admit that every
mental act has an “intentional object” understood adverbially and suppose some
kind of external relations weaker than identity, between those “intentional objects”
and actual, real object (if any) (Bell 1990: 134). In this manner, Bell admits that the
early Husserl’s theory of intentionality construed in this way fails to explain the
relation to the reality.
This is not the only way to explain those three features of intentionality, however.
There is another way, which doesn’t suppose any “intentional objects” other than
actual, real objects. In this sense, the option is a kind of adverbial theory. It is
Hintikka’s intensionality approach (Hintikka 1975, p. 192–207). Hintikka utilizes
possible world semantics and regards the intentionality as a function from possible
50 Y. Tomiyama
worlds into objects. In order to explain this idea, let’s take an example in which the
intended object fails to exist. In the real world, there is no President of Japan.
Nevertheless, the expression “the President of Japan” is understandable. We can
understand the concept it expresses. There is no need for either the peculiar “inten-
tional object” which is something other than the actual, real President of Japan or
some kind of particular relation to it in order to explain this conceptuality. It is
enough that we can choose a suitable object for satisfying the imposed condition
“the President of Japan” in each possible situation where there is the President of
Japan. To make it clearer, consider another example “the Prime Minister of Japan.”
When we understand this concept, it suffices to choose a suitable person as the
Prime Minister of Japan at that time, in each possible situation. No peculiar object
other than each particular possible Prime Minister is needed, and we thus do not
require any peculiar relation to explain it. Then, the content of a concept can be suf-
ficiently explained by a function which designates the suitable object to each pos-
sible situation, or possible worlds. Since there might be some situations which lack
a suitable object, it might be a partial function. This is not an essential difficulty, as
long as the function picks the suitable objects appropriately, whenever they are.
So far, I introduced two theoretical options to explain intentionality. These two
theories do not exhaust our options, however. We also find a third option, in other
words we find a kind of adverbial theory inspired by Michael Dummett’s interpreta-
tion of Frege’s theory of meaning. I will argue that this is the only defensible option.
Since I will explain this option in more detail in the next two sections while con-
trasting it with some difficulties other two options contain, I am going to merely
glance at the third option here. The option could be regarded as a kind of refinement
or revision of the second option, Hintikka’s approach. Hintikka utilized a kind of
model theoretic framework, namely possible world semantics. In the third approach,
it is also essential that we can search for suitable objects, even if we do not know
what they actually are or whether they exist or not. Take “the nearest desk in the
classroom next door will be available and suitable” as an example. The intended
object “the nearest desk in the classroom next door” has not been presented before
my eyes yet, and it is also possible that there is no desk in the classroom next door
in fact. Nevertheless, I can rightly assert that I have understood the content of my
own guess, forming appropriate directedness toward a particular intended object.
Even if it lacks a suitable object, it cannot be reduced to utter nonsense. How and
why can I justify this? It is simply because I know the way to search for the suitable
object, and I can thus check the existence of said suitable intended object and what
it actually is. Although I did not even know whether or not the intended object
exists, I have grasped its intentional content as this searching procedure. Therefore
my search for the suitable intended object is not arbitrary. This guarantees the
directedness even notwithstanding the absence or non-existence of the intended
object.
4 Which Theory?
It is time to evaluate these three theoretical options to explain intentionality and

argue for the most defensible option. First, I will dismiss the first, Bell’s option. It is
not defensible as either an acceptably correct interpretation of the early Husserl’s
theory of intentionality or as a sufficiently plausible philosophical theory of inten-
tionality as such. Second, I will argue that the third option is better than the second,
as both an interpretation of Husserl and as a philosophical theory. In order to dismiss
the first option, we ought to first look at this crucial textual evidence from Husserl’s
Logical Investigations.
It is a serious mistake if one makes distinction between “mere immanent” objects or
“intentional objects on the one hand, and “transcendent” object in the other hand. (Hua
XIX/1, pp. 438–439)
Bell knows this text and cites it in his own arguments, however. Hence, it is not
sufficient to merely point out the existence of this textual evidence. Bell knows that
his argument is apparently inconsistent with Husserl’s text (Bell 1990, p. 133). He
argued, however, that Husserl’s theory must be understood as he described it,
because the identity that is seemingly required by Husserl’s text is impossible, at
least if we follow an adverbialist reading. I will argue that there is no difficulty con-
cerning this required identity. Bell thinks that the adverbialist must construe the
“intentional object” adverbially, hence identify the mode of mental act expressed by
an adverbial with the intended real, actual object in outer world, in order to explain
the reality of objects. Since it is not an intelligible usage of the concept “identity,”
Bell rejected the identity thesis. His mistake is, however, the first step of this argu-
ment. Adverbialists, both Hintikka style and Dummett style, have no need to iden-
tify the “intentional object” and something mental. In Hintikka’s approach, the
mode of a mental act expressed by an adverbial, which forms the directedness
toward an “intentional object,” is a function from possible worlds to objects. In this
theory, the “intentional object” is the value of a function calculated with the input
world where the subject actually lives. Generally speaking, the value of a function
and the function itself need not be identified. Thus, we don’t have to identify the
“intentional object” with intentional directedness itself, even if the latter is con-
strued adverbially. The function guarantees the directedness toward an object, even
before the intended value is actually calculated, namely before the subject comes to
know what the object actually is and it appears before her eyes in person. Value as a
calculated result, on the other hand, is the “intentional object,” i.e., the intended
object itself, and has no need to be identified with the function itself. In the
Dummettian approach, the situation is essentially the same. The “intentional object”
is the result which is to be gained if the searching procedure successfully termi-
nates. There is no reason why this result must be the procedure itself.
Besides, Bell’s interpretation has another defect as an interpretation of Husserl’s
early work. Bell’s interpretation requires every mental act have a corresponding
“intentional object,” but Husserl himself explicitly denies this claim. Hence, Bell’s
theory has two defects, at least as an interpretation of the early Husserl. I will argue
52 Y. Tomiyama
in the next two sections that these defects cause problems for Bell’s work as a philo-
sophical theory as well, regardless of their relation to Husserl’s work.
Hintikka’s approach, in contrast, is immune from these two defects. It has no
difficulty in identifying the “intentional object” (the value of a function) and the
real, actual object in outer world by not (necessarily) identifying them with any-
thing in the mind. There is no difficulty, either, in admitting cases where the “inten-
tional object” fails to exist in reality. While the existence of a function guarantees
the directedness toward an object, and hence the meaningfulness of the content of a
mental act, it does not necessarily require the existence of the value in every possi-
ble world, or even in the actual world. This lack of an intentional object doesn’t
endanger the meaningfulness of the relevant mental act, because the lack of some
values at some inputs doesn’t discard the existence and the meaningfulness of the
function itself.
Hintikka’s theory, however, has other two problems. First, it inevitably entails a
difficulty in explaining how we grasp meaning. It utilizes a model theoretic frame-
work containing an infinite number of possible worlds, most of which we do not live
in and have no experience of. Because of this, we may face some difficulties when
trying to explain how we could come to learn and grasp meanings whose character-
izations contain references to a number of inaccessible1 possible worlds. At least in
the standard set theoretic framework, a function is usually identified with a set
whose members are pairs of input and output, forming a complete list assigning
every input a corresponding output. Generally speaking, those functions used in
Hintikka’s framework contain infinitely many possible worlds as inputs. How and
when could we learn such immensely huge infinite lists, containing inaccessible
other possible worlds as their inputs? Unless a proponent of this theory can explain
this point, Hintikka’s suggestion has at least insufficient and misleading aspects.
Secondly, Hintikka’s intensionalities expressed by such functions are too grossly
meshed together for us to explain our grasp of meaning or mental contents in gen-
eral. As Putnam rightly pointed out, such functions cannot distinguish logically or
mathematically equivalent meanings or contents. Consider the concept “the small-
est positive even number” and “the smallest prime number,” for example. These two
concepts should assign the value “2” at every possible world necessarily. The mean-
ings, however, seems to be different. Hintikka’s framework, at least under model
theoretic and set theoretic settings, cannot explain differences among these neces-
sarily co-extensional concepts. In the next section, I will argue that the Dummettian
approach avoids these two difficulties Hintikka’s has, without falling into the prob-
lems Bell’s contains.
1
This means “we cannot experience it within our actual concrete experiences,” and not in the sense
that it is an inaccessible possible world with respect to an accessible relation in the framework of
possible world semantics.
5 Intentional Directedness
Hintikka’s approach captures the intuition that the intentional directedness itself can
be understood even in the absence of intended object, as long as the subject grasps
the way to assign the suitable object in accordance with the possible situations.
While this main intuition is plausible enough, the framework utilizing possible
worlds semantics is unnecessary, or a kind of excess. In order to think about “the
largest mammal on earth”, for example, we do not need to survey the totality of all
possible worlds and search for the largest mammals in each of them. As long as we
know what the word “mammal” means, the concept of the size of animals and what
the superlative “the largest on earth” means, we can check an arbitrary candidate
whether it is the intended object or not whenever it is given as a candidate, and we
can search for such candidates by ourselves. If someone thinks a fish could be a
candidate or does not understand the concept of the size of animals, trying to check
the hardness of scales, for example, we take this as a reason to doubt her under-
standing of the meaning and the directedness toward the relevant intended object.
Nevertheless, we can check these things in our behavior in our own world, without
referring to other possible worlds. The concrete procedure of searching for the
object and checking given candidates suffices for forming the directedness toward
particular relevant intended object. Any kind of peculiar theoretical entities like
Bell’s “intentional objects” and references to other possible worlds inaccessible
from our concrete experiences are needless.
Consider the problem that Hintikka’s intension cannot distinguish the concepts
necessarily co-extensional among all possible worlds, like mathematical concepts.
“The smallest positive even number” and “the smallest prime number” necessarily
always stand for the same number “2” regardless of the input from any possible
world. This makes the function the same. The concrete procedures, however, to
search for the intended value do not merge into the same procedure because of this
fact. To search for the smallest natural number satisfying a given property A, the
canonical procedure prescribes a step-by-step search, namely check A(0), and if
A(0), then return 0 as searched answer, else check A(1), and if A(1), then return 1,
else check A(2), and so on. As long as A is a decidable property, the whole search
forms an effective semi-decidable procedure.2 Since both “positive even number”
and “prime number” are decidable properties, they prescribe perfectly determined
effective semi-decidable procedures before they terminate and return the actual
intended value itself. In each case, however, the checking processes of each A(x) are
different according to each property to check. We need to check only divisibility by
2 for the one case, and this is not sufficient in order to search prime number for the
other. Even if two procedures necessarily return the same value for their final result,
the whole process of computation can be different amongst the two of them. This
2
A decidable procedure is a well-defined inscription which ensures the answer can be determined
as yes or no within finite steps in all cases, and a semi-decidable procedure ensure the answer yes
within finite steps in positive cases. See, for example, Enderton 2001, pp. 61–65.
54 Y. Tomiyama
fact explains the possibility of having different meanings among necessarily co-
extensional concepts, which Hintikka’s approach fails to explain.
Take another example to clarify this third approach. It is unknown whether there
exists an “odd perfect number” or not. However, we have a concrete procedure to
decide whether a given candidate is an odd perfect number or not. Search its divi-
sors and sum them up, and then compare the sum to the original number itself. This
can be written down in any programming language or in other similar forms.
Although the existence of the value and the value itself have not been known, the
computational procedure to search for odd perfect numbers or “the smallest odd
perfect number” has already determined, described unambiguously. The meaning-
fulness of the concept, or the directedness toward the particular object “the smallest
odd perfect number” is guaranteed by this procedure. There is no need to explain
this, appealing to anything like Bell’s “intentional objects” as theoretically assumed
entities, nor utilizing abstract model theoretic framework, such as possible worlds
semantics. Even in the absence of the intended object (like ‘the smallest odd perfect
number’), the existence of the previously determined searching procedure can suf-
ficiently explain and guarantee the formation of intentionality. This procedure, like
the above mentioned computer program, for example, is easily distinguished from
value as the terminal result. There is no need to identify these obviously different
things as being the same, as Bell mistakenly called us to do. The procedure itself is
determined before and regardless of the presence of the intended object. Husserl’s
claim that objects are irrelevant to phenomenology can be construed as an expres-
sion of this fact (Hua XIX/1, p. 427). This is not harmful to the reality of objects,
since it expresses the fact that the directedness toward an object is guaranteed by a
searching procedure before the presence of the object, without denying that the
procedure will finally result in the actual, real object.
6 The Status of Intentional Objects
I have shown in the previous section that intentionality can be explained without
assuming a corresponding intentional object to every mental act, or a model theo-
retic framework like possible world semantics, which makes giving an explanation
how we can grasp meaning difficult. This approach has no need to assume dupli-
cated conceptions of objects in order to explain the formation of intentional direct-
edness toward an object. Why, however, we can assume this “intentional object” to
be the actual one? Are there any reasons why it must be in the real world? How could
we justify Husserl’s claim that the “intentional object” and the actual transcendent
object are identical, denying the duplication of objects: double objects theory.
The problem here is this. We have already argued that the directedness or our
grasping of meaning, which forms intentionality toward a particular object, need not
be identical with the intentional object intended in it, and that the latter need not be
supposed as existent in all cases. This, however, should not directly lead us to think
that the intended object must be the actual bearer of the supposed properties, i.e., the
actual object in the real world. A searching procedure can give us a result other than
the procedure itself, but the reason why this result must be the actual object in the
real world as the actual bearer of the supposed properties seems to be far from clear.
How can we refute the possibility of a hidden real object behind the intentional
object which is different from both the real object and the meaning towards it. This
requires further justification.
The key to resolving this problem is a close relation between an object and a
truth, as Husserl emphasizes in Logical Investigations (Hua XIX/1, p. 130, p. 106).
An “intentional object” is a subject which a truth is true of. Husserl uses this con-
ception everywhere in Logical Investigations, to distinguish acts with different
intentional objects (cf. for example, Hua XIX/1, p. 177, p. 416, pp. 432–433). A
proposition’s intentional object, for example, must be a state of affairs based on this
reason. Consider the assertion that “the lion is still in the cage,” as per the wishes of
the desperate zoo-keeper. If it is true, the proposition “the lion is still in the cage” is
a constituent of the truth, as a subject of which it is true. Since the zoo-keeper hopes
for a state of affairs in which the lion has remained in the cage, rather than hoping
simply for the lion, the intentional object corresponding the proposition must be the
state of affairs rather than the lion itself. Take another example: “All men should
die” and “The class of all men should be dead” (cf. Hua Mat. I: 99). The former is
probably true, while the latter cannot be true because classes are abstract objects,
which cannot die. Since the same thing is true of the former and not of the latter, the
intentional object “all men” and “the class of all men” are different. This shows that
Husserl’s conception of intentional object is logical. It is not psychological, as it
would be if it were something like mental images, because we have no clear images
which distinctly separate “all men” and “the class of all men.” Another example
comes from mathematics. Consider the truth that “the smallest prime number is
even.” The intentional object “the smallest prime number” is nothing but the num-
ber 2 itself, because there are infinitely many truths about this object, and no num-
ber other than 2 can satisfy all of these properties. Needless to say, nothing other
than numbers can be even, nor can anything that is not a number have most of other
properties which the smallest prime number has. For this reason, supposing a hid-
den true object behind this intentional object would be nonsensical. We are talking
about the number 2, and any other supposed “object” has nothing to do.
This conception of intentional objects is very similar to the concept of “semantic
value,” as it was introduced by Michael Dummett in order to understand the concept
of Frege’s Bedeutung. Semantic values are features of expressions, necessary and
sufficient to decide the truth value of sentences containing the expressions (Dummett
1978, p. 120). In order to check the truth value of a sentence, we must search for the
semantic value of its constituents. Dummett construed Frege’s Sinn as this search-
ing procedure (Dummett 1991, p. 143).
Our interpretation of Husserl’s work runs parallel to this. I can assert that “the
largest prime number less than 100 is odd” before I even know that the number is
97. My assertion is about the number 97, directed toward the number as its inten-
tional object. This directedness is guaranteed by my knowing a searching procedure,
how to search for the intentional object (as needed as semantic value like Frege’s
Bedeutung) in order to decide its truth value before the result is actually presented
before my eyes. This searching procedure is the assertion’s meaning, like Frege’s
56 Y. Tomiyama
Sinn. To make this situation clearer, we can take another example. We previously
discussed before a situation in one expects that “the nearest desk in the classroom
next door will be available and suitable”. When I make this guess, I grasp the mean-
ing and form a directedness toward an intentional object. In this case, I already
know the way to go to the next classroom and search for the aforementioned desk in
my mind before I actually do this. The object I intended is the desk found after this
procedure. This procedure is performed and satisfied by suitable actions and percep-
tions. When the intended object is successfully found, supposing any “real” object
other than it and (in any sense) behind it is nonsensical. Since I intend the desk with
usual perceptual properties, perceptions are essential constituents of its truth or jus-
tification, i.e., fulfillment in Husserl’s terminology. My expectation for the desk to
be available already has these perceptions as possible justifications based on the
meaning of the proposition alone, and anything without this fulfillment is useless.
Because I intend the desk which I can see and touch in order to use in the usual way,
anything without these fulfillments has nothing to do with my initial statement.
Since we learn and grasp the very concepts of truth and object within the sphere of
our experiences, these concepts have close and essential relations to possible fulfill-
ments. Supposing any true, real object other than intentional object, the former of
which lacks those relations to possible fulfillment, is not necessary to create a the-
ory of intentionality. Husserl offers us an insight into this fact, and thus rightly
emphasizes the reality and transcendence of the intended object simultaneously,
without straying from the sphere of our experiences.
References
Bell, David. 1990. Husserl, The Arguments of the Philosophers. London: Routledge.
Dummett, Michael, Frege’s Distinction Between Sense and Reference. In Dummett, 1978,
116–144.
———. 1978. Truth and Other Enigmas. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
———. 1991. The Logical Basis of Metaphysics, William James Lectures: 1976. Cambridge, MA,
Harvard University Press.
Enderton, Herbert B. 2001. A Mathematical Introduction to Logic, 2nd edn. Oxford: Harcourt
Academic Press.
Hintikka, Jakko. 1975. The Intentions of Intentionality and Other New Models for Modalities.
Dordrecht: Reidel.
Simons, Peter. 1995. Meaning and Language. In ed. Barry Smith et al., 106–137.
Smith, Barry, and David Woodruf Smith, eds. 1995. Cambridge Companion to Husserl. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Sokolowski, Robert. 2000. Introduction to Phenomenology. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Yutaka Tomiyama (Ph.D., The University of Tokyo) is Assistant Professor at the University of

Tokyo. He is one of the authors of Word Map: Contemporary Phenomenology (Shinyou-sha, 2017,
in Japanese). His research areas are theories of intentionality, mainly the early Husserl’s. He inter-
prets Husserl’s theories in comparison with theories of meaning in analytic tradition, especially
Dummettian anti-realist one.
Neither One Nor Many: Husserl
on the Primal Mode of the I
Shigeru Taguchi
Abstract Husserl’s concept of “primal I” (Ur-Ich) is well known but difficult to

understand. In this chapter, I present a clue to figuring out what is at stake in this
concept. First, I refer to Husserl’s claim that the primal I cannot be pluralized. This
claim can be understood in the sense that this ego is neither one of many egos nor a
single all-encompassing entity. Second, in order to show that this character of
“neither-one-nor-many” is not anything extraordinary, I shall refer to the fact that in
natural languages we encounter this same character. Finally, I will address the prob-
lem of our fundamental perspective from which we most usually see the world. By
doing this, I will claim that the seemingly strange character of the “primal I” indi-
cates an experience that is “too obvious” to face in our daily life.
Keywords Husserl · Primal I (Ur-Ich) · Ego · Plurality · Naturalness ·

Obviousness · Intersubjectivity · Language
1 Introduction
It is well known that in his later years, Edmund Husserl discussed the notion of
“primal I (Ur-Ich).”1 Unfortunately, this concept has rarely been explored in the
literature regarding Husserl’s phenomenology.2 However, this fact does not indicate
that this concept is insignificant. Husserl speaks of the “primal I” not only in his
1
An earlier draft of this paper was presented at the conference Consciousness and the World at
Tongji University in Shanghai, held on June 3–4, 2016. I appreciate the valuable comments I
received from participants at the conference, which helped me to elaborate the ideas in this paper.
2
There is only one monograph on “primal I.” See Taguchi 2006. Only a few authors have discussed
it in detail in their books or articles. See Theunissen 1965, Zahavi 1996, 2015, Micali 2008, and
Niel 2011.
S. Taguchi (*)
Faculty of Humanities and Human Sciences, Hokkaido University, Sapporo, Japan
e-mail: tag@let.hokudai.ac.jp

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_5
58 S. Taguchi
research manuscripts, but also in his last published work The Crisis of European
Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology. In the Crisis, the “primal I” forms a
culmination of his extensive discussion concerning transcendental phenomenology.
The “primal I” appears in the final paragraphs (§54 and §55) of part IIIA of the
book. This fact indicates that the “primal I” is more than a temporary thought.
Rather, it is a key concept that touches the core of the phenomenology which Husserl
had in mind. What, then, is the “primal I”? Does it suggest that, apart from the ego
in our daily experience, there is an ego that transcends every ordinary experience?
Are we forced to recognize here that with this concept, Husserl goes beyond the
phenomenologically given and into a speculative venture?
In this paper, I claim that Husserl’s concept of the “primal I” is not a deviation
from, but rather a necessary consequence of, the basic principle of phenomenology.
What is the most central principle of phenomenology? As Husserl remarks in Ideas
I, the “principle of all principles” for phenomenology is to assign maximum value
to what is appearing, i.e., what is given as phenomenon.3 If we cannot immediately
understand what Husserl refers to as “primal I,” it is not because the “primal I” does
not appear to us in our experience, but rather because we do not sufficiently respect
what is given as phenomenon. Is it not conceivable that, in the face of the “primal
I,” we are distracted from what is really given because our attention is usually
attracted to abstract constituents which obscure the actually given?
In order to answer this question, I will refer to Husserl’s claim that the primal ego
cannot be pluralized, and interpret his claim to mean that this ego is neither one of
many egos nor a single all-encompassing entity. Second, in order to show that this
character of “neither-one-nor-many” is not anything metaphysical, I shall give
examples of several instantiations of this in natural languages. Finally I will address
the problem of our fundamental perspective from which we most usually see the
world. By doing this, I will claim that the seemingly strange character of the “primal
I” indicates an experience that is “too obvious” to face in our daily life. What is at
stake here is not something “beyond” natural experience, but the experience that is,
in a sense, “more natural” than the common experience that we are usually con-
scious of — because true naturalness is not easily noticeable due to its extreme
obviousness.
2 The Problem of “Primal I” in the Crisis
In §54 of the Crisis Husserl criticizes “the naïveté of our first approach” (Hua VI,
p 185/182). He thinks that what was lacking in his previous discussion was a con-
sideration of the ego in its profound meaning and its pluralization. He remarks as
follows.
The ego was mentioned as the subject matter of the highest level of reflection; but in the
careful analytic-descriptive procedure, which naturally favors the more detailed intercon-
nections, it did not receive its full due. For the depths of its functioning being make
See Hua III/1, §24.

3
Neither One Nor Many: Husserl on the Primal Mode of the I 59
themselves felt only belatedly. In connection with this, what was lacking was the phenom-
enon of the change of signification of ‘I’ – just as I am saying ‘I’ right now – into ‘other I’s,’
into ‘all of us,’ we who are many ‘I’s,’ and among whom I am but one ‘I.’ What was lacking,
then, was the problem of the constitution of intersubjectivity – this ‘all of us’ – from my
point of view, indeed ‘in’ me. (Hua VI, p. 186/182)
In this passage, Husserl first calls our attention to the “depths” of the ego’s func-
tioning being. Then he points out that there is a peculiar phenomenon of “the change
of signification of ‘I’ […] into ‘other I’s’.” This phenomenon can be construed as
the phenomenon of the pluralization of ‘I.’ Through this constitution of the plural of
‘I,’ I become ‘one I’ amongst many others. Finally, the last sentence of the quote
clearly shows that the intersubjectivity is constituted “in me.”
Note that in this passage Husserl distinguishes between two different meanings
of “I.” First, “I” refers to “I among others.” In this sense, I am only one subject
which has been integrated into a plurality of egos. Second, “I” signifies the place
where the very intersubjective plurality of egos is constituted. In this sense, “I” can-
not be a mere member of an intersubjective plurality, because it would be contradic-
tory if the whole of intersubjectivity is constituted in a member as its part. If we
consider this contradiction simply to be a “fact” that we must accept, then we would
be too lazy to even be called philosophers. According to Husserl, “philosophers can-
not be content with such naïveté” (Hua VI: 184/180). When Husserl speaks of an
“essential equivocation” in regard to the concept of “I,” he is apparently thinking of
the two aforementioned meanings of “I.”
The ‘I’ that I attain in the epoché, which would be the same as the ‘ego’ within a critical
reinterpretation and correction of the Cartesian conception, is actually called ‘I’ only by
equivocation – though it is an essential equivocation (Hua VI, p. 188/184; see also Hua XV,
p. 586).
In this way, Husserl makes clear that the meaning of the word “I” is not as obvi-
ous as we usually think. It contains a fundamental ambiguity that cannot be dis-
solved simply by assuming that there are two different concepts of “I.” Rather, “I”
must be a complex but unitary phenomenon whose essential components are the “I
among others” and the “I” in which intersubjectivity is constituted. “I” can be con-
sidered to be the phenomenon of mediation between these two aspects. This view is
also indicated in a passage which is again found in §54 of the Crisis, where Husserl
criticizes his previous description.
[I]t was wrong, methodically, to jump immediately into transcendental intersubjectivity and
to leap over the primal ‘I,’ the ego of my epoché, which can never lose its uniqueness and
personal indeclinability. It is only an apparent contradiction to this that the ego – through a
particular constitutive accomplishment of its own – makes itself declinable, for itself, tran-
scendentally; that, starting from itself and in itself, it constitutes transcendental intersubjec-
tivity, to which it then adds itself as a merely privileged member, namely, as ‘I’ among the
transcendental others. (Hua VI, p. 188–9/185)4
4
This passage clearly shows that the problem of “primal I” is addressed in relation to the problem
of intersubjectivity. In principle, the concept of “primal I” is strongly connected to the fundamental
constitution of intersubjectivity. This applies at least to the works Husserl officially published.
Zahavi seems to miss this point when he criticizes my work (Taguchi 2006) for ignoring the con-
60 S. Taguchi
In this passage, it is shown that the phenomenon of “I” consists in a mediation

between the “primal I” on the one hand and the “I among others” on the other.
Usually we leap over the primal I because it is difficult for us to be reflectively
aware of it. However, without this hardly recognizable dimension, there is no phe-
nomenon of “I.” The primal I is always presupposed in a pre-reflective way when I
am aware of myself as “I.” How can we understand this strange concept of “primal
I”? In a sense, the primal I precedes intersubjectivity because the latter is constituted
“in” the former. But what does this mean?
3 Primal I Is Neither One Nor Many
Allow me to examine some interpretations of “primal I.”5 Imagine that there is an

ego which precedes the constitution of intersubjectivity. If it is merely “an” ego that
can be opposed to other egos, it can be called a solitary ego. This is because, despite
the existence of other egos, it cannot have a relationship with them. Michael
Theunissen adopts this interpretation.6 However, this is not tenable for the following
reasons.
First, given that I cannot have any relationship with others, these others are sup-
posed to exist although they do not appear to me. However, we cannot be phenom-
enologically justified in assuming that there are entities that lack any appearance. It
is unlikely that Husserl would assert the existence of such entities.
Second, if we assume that there are other egos outside of a solitary ego that has
no relation with them, this would mean, in any case, that we have assumed that there
is a plurality of egos. Many egos are already there, but factually they have no rela-
tion to each other. However, Husserl clearly denies this understanding of the primal
I. He says that in a radical epoché, “I am not a single individual who has somehow
willfully cut himself off from the society of mankind, perhaps even for theoretical
reasons, or who is cut off by accident, as in a shipwreck, but who nevertheless
knows that he still belongs to that society” (Hua VI, p. 188/184). What should be
suspended by the epoché is the very sense of intersubjective plurality itself. The
question here is how the valid sense of intersubjective plurality is constituted. To
examine this sense of intersubjectivity, we cannot keep it in its usual validity. It
should be suspended and bracketed. If this epoché is radicalized, we cannot suppose
that there are other egos outside of a solitary ego. We cannot even think that there is
a “solitary” ego, because “solitude” already implies the non-existence of others, and
nection between “primal I” and “primal consciousness” (Zahavi 2015, p. 7). I do not deny that
there is a connection between them, but the problem of primal consciousness should be distin-
guished from the problem of primal I, insofar as the former is analyzed without regard to
intersubjectivity.
5
The following discussion of this section is based on Chapter V of Taguchi 2006.
6
Theunissen 1965, 151ff.
thus implicates the sense of plural egos.7 After the radicalized epoché, the primal
ego “allows no meaningful multiplication” (Hua XV, p. 590).
Next, I shall examine another seemingly possible interpretation of “primal I.” If
the “primal I” precedes the sense of intersubjectivity and has no other egos outside
it, it might be understood as a single metaphysical ego that gives rise to all egos
including “my” ego. According to this interpretation, all egos are derivatives of this
“great” ego as the sole origin.
However, Husserl seems to reject this kind of understanding. In the passage I
quoted above, he rephrases “primal I” as “the ego of my epoché” (Hua VI,
p. 188/185). This means that the primal I cannot be considered as a metaphysical
ego that goes far beyond the existence of my ego, but rather it is “this” me who is
closest to myself, who is thinking and performing the epoché. After Husserl speaks
of “an essential equivocation” concerning the “I,” he remarks as follows:
[W] hen I name it [i.e. I in its equivocation] in reflection, I can say nothing other than: it is
I who practice the epoché, I who interrogate, as phenomenon, the world which is now valid
for me according to its being and being-such, with all its human beings (Hua VI, p. 188/184).
This description does not suggest that the ego in the radical epoché would be a
“great” ego beyond myself. Rather, this indicates that each one of us is the “primal
I” when we practice the epoché by ourselves.
Let me summarize the results of the previous discussion. On the one hand, the
primal I cannot be interpreted as one of many egos that is dissociated from others
for whatever reason. This is because it can only be disclosed by the radicalized
epoché in which the sense of intersubjective plurality is no longer valid. After this
epoché, we cannot simply assume that there are many egos. That is why we cannot
think that the primal I is an ego that has factually lost contact with others. On the
other hand, the primal I cannot be construed as a single metaphysical ego that goes
beyond myself and others. It cannot be said that the primal I is a trans-individual
One that gives rise to all individuals as its derivatives. Thus, we can conclude that
the primal I is neither one of many egos nor the absolute One as the sole origin of
the plural of subjectivity. We can neither say that there are many primal I’s nor that
there is the numerically single primal I. We should say that the primal I is neither
one nor many.8
Eugen Fink points out that in Husserl’s research manuscripts there is a peculiar
thought that the “most original depth of life” is the primal ground which originates
the bifurcation between fact and essence, actuality and possibility, instance and spe-
cies, as well as the bifurcation of the one and the many.9 We can agree with Fink that
Husserl meant to illuminate a dimension preceding the dichotomy of the one and the
7
In this sense, Husserl’s description of ego’s “unique sort of philosophical solitude” in the epoché
seems misleading. Antonio Aguirre also remarks that in regard to the unique I such an expression
as “solus ipse” loses its meaning (Aguirre 1982, pp. 44–45).
8
Schelling also says that “I” is neither one nor many in the empirical sense. See Schelling 1958,
p. 107. However, Schelling emphasizes the absolute unity of the I that is distinguished from empir-
ical unity.
9
Fink 1976, p. 223.
62 S. Taguchi
many. However, Fink’s description suggests that such a dimension lurks in an invis-
ible “depth of life.” It is true that we are not reflectively aware of such a dimension
in our everyday life, but the “depth of life” sounds as if the dimension in which the
primal I is situated is distanced from our natural life as an ego.
Let me ask now: Is it true that the primal I is something unusual that we cannot
find in our everyday life? To grasp it, do we need something special like a specula-
tive adventure or a mystical practice? In the next sections, I would like to address
these questions.
4 Neither-One-Nor-Many in Everyday Language
Let me first temporarily leave the problem of “primal I” to examine whether the idea
of “neither-one-nor-many” in general can be found in our everyday life. If this is the
case, then we are not obliged to conclude that the “primal I” is something “extra-
mundane” because of its “strange” character of neither-one-nor-many.
We tend to think that what we find objectively in the natural world of experience
is either singular or plural. However, in natural language, there are many expres-
sions that signify something that is neither singular nor plural. In the English lan-
guage, we can find uncountable nouns such as “baggage,” “furniture,” or “food.” We
cannot say whether the “baggage” itself is one or many. If we simply say “baggage,”
what it signifies is neither one nor many. Starting from the idea of “baggage” that is
neither one nor many, we can only express a singular or a plural form by adding
further determinations. For example, we can say “a piece of baggage” or “two
pieces of furniture.” “Baggage” or “furniture “itself is neither singular nor plural.
In Asian languages, this phenomenon is much more common. For example, In
Japanese language, nouns have basically no plural forms. If one says “Tori ga ton-
deiru (鳥が飛んでいる),” this can mean “a bird is flying” or “birds are flying.” To
specify whether “tori (鳥 bird)” is singular or plural, other words must be added
(ichiwano一羽の, takusanno たくさんの, etc.). As far as I know, this is also the
case in Chinese and Korean language. Certainly there must be many other examples
of this across the globe.
These examples show that in order to find something that is “neither one nor
many,” we do not need to go beyond the natural world. It is precisely our daily expe-
rience which is full of instances of “neither-one-nor-many.” We might even be able
to assume that such a way of referring to something is more fundamental than think-
ing of it as singular or plural. Our very original encounter with worldly things might
not be unilaterally determined by the dichotomy of singularity and plurality.
However, I will not enter into this problem here.
In any case, the “neither-one-nor-many” is not a sign of extramundane transcen-
dence, but a common phenomenon that can be found everywhere in natural experi-
ence. Therefore, it is at least possible to think that the primal I which is “neither one
nor many” is not something extramundane, but rather refers to something which is
quite familiar to our natural experience. What Husserl described as “primal I” might
be a considerably obvious character of the “I,” which we usually do not notice, just
as we tend to ignore the fact that there are many instances in our natural languages
that show the character of “neither-one-nor-many.”
Let us examine, next, the word “I” in our natural language. In a manuscript,
Husserl points to the fact that we do not say “an I” in our everyday language.
An I – is not I. I do not have a second next to me of whom I can say: That is I. This is red –
this is also red. That is a house – that is another house. That is I – an I, that is also an I. But
we never say: an I.10
Different from such words as “house” or “tree,” the word “I” does not have a plural
form. “I” allows no plural (Ms. B I 14/127a). It is not possible as well to expressly
signify that “I” is singular, so that we cannot say “an I.” Thus we can say that “I” is
also neither one nor many. The word “I” itself is not unique, not for someone’s
exclusive use. “I” is always “I” no matter who uses this word. However, what “I”
refers to is, according to Husserl, “absolutely individual” (Ms. B I 14/138a). The
idea of “I” that we have in mind when we use this word is absolutely universal in
one aspect, while at the same time it is absolutely individual in another aspect.
However, in any case, when we say “I,” we neither imagine a single comprehensive
entity called “I” nor think of “I” in a plural form. Every time we say “I,” we are
involved in that peculiar idea of “I” which has the character of “neither-one-nor-
many.” We should admit that this seemingly strange character of “I,” which is unique
to Husserl’s “primal I,” is quite familiar to our natural life, or even too familiar for
us to view it at a distance.
5 Exclusive and Primal Perspective
In the previous section, I showed that the character of “neither-one-nor-many” is not

necessarily a sign of extramundane transcendence. Especially the word “I,” which
we frequently use in our everyday life, shows this character. Now we can go further
to examine whether this character can be found in our basic natural experience of
the world. Let me first ask the following question: Have you ever viewed the world
from a perspective that is not yours?
Is there anyone who can answer this question with a “yes”? We may also ask
more simply: Have you ever left your own perspective in your life? Given that you
have left your perspective, you must either say that you are not you anymore because
you cannot see the world from your perspective, or you must say that the new per-
spective that you take after leaving the previous one is now exactly yours, and as
such you still see everything only from your perspective.
We might be unsettled by this consideration. The world we believed in might begin
to seem shaky and uncertain. If this is the case, then we are contaminated by a dogma
10
Ms. B I 14/138a: My translation. Cited from Taguchi 2006, p. 159. I partly consulted the transla-
tion of this passage by James Hart (1992, p. 165).
64 S. Taguchi
that is found in a hidden presupposition of our view – the dogma that the world viewed
from “my” perspective is merely relative and uncertain. Against this dogma, phenom-
enology opens our eyes to a view that the world viewed from “my” perspective is
nothing other than the actual world as it is. That is why Husserl characterizes phenom-
enology as a “peculiar science” dealing with “the disparaged δόξα, which now sud-
denly claims the dignity of a foundation for science, ἐπιστήμη” (Hua VI, p. 158/155–6).
What is called the “objective world” is nothing other than the world that is viewed
from “my” perspective because I can never go beyond this perspective.
We tend to say that the world viewed from my perspective is relative and
restricted, and as such it is different from the worlds viewed from perspectives of
others. When we think of this situation, my perspective and those of others are jux-
taposed and opposed to each other. However, the very perspective from which I see
the world in the most original way cannot be opposed to the perspectives of others.
The most original place where even the opposition between my perspective and
those of others is experienced and understood – that is my original perspective.11
Let us go back to the “obviousness” (Selbstverständlichkeit) of our natural life.
When we live embedded in the world, we are not aware of the fact that the world is
viewed from “my” perspective. It seems that the world is simply the world as it is.
Note that phenomenology does not deny this simple view. If there is an objective
world, it cannot be anything different from what it is when it is appearing to us. As
soon as we begin to think that the appearance of the world is merely subjective and
private, and that there is the true world behind it, we are caught in the common trap
called “the riddle of epistemology.” As Husserl points out, as soon as we separate
the representation of the world from the world as it is, we fall into the following
riddle: How can we recognize the true world behind its appearance? (Hua XV,
p. 553) In order to avoid this riddle, we have to start from the basic fact that the
objective world can only constitute itself in its appearing to “me.”
This means that the view from my perspective is not essentially different from
the world as it is. The world itself appears exactly in the experience that I go through
from my perspective. It is true that the phenomenon of the world is mediated by
perspectival appearances, but what we are aware of through them is not each one-
sided appearance, but the world as it is.
Let us think about the perspectives of others. In my natural life, when I am not
particularly aware of my own perspective, what I am conscious of is simply the
world as it is. Similarly, I am not aware of other perspectives that are different from
mine. The world is experienced as one and the same, whether it is viewed by me or
by others. It is not important who experiences the world.
However, sometimes my view comes into collision with the view of another. It is
at this moment that the world viewed from my perspective is opposed to the one
viewed from another perspective. Nevertheless, this opposition does not split the
world into separate fragments. This opposition is always a conflict over “one and the
same world,” so that it can be resolved and the opponents are led back to the identical
world in such a way that either one of the two is wrong. Or it is also possible that
11
See also a detailed discussion on the primitive perspective of our subjective life in Taguchi 2018.
the two different views are compatible because they reflect two different aspects of
the same world. In this case, the opposition is also dissolved. In any case, as far as
the natural experience of the world is concerned, my world and another’s world can-
not stand side by side as two incompatible worlds. Even if there are conflicts and
oppositions, they are always subsumed into the same world, insofar as they at least
occur in the same world. Note that this same world, which precedes all oppositions,
is always experienced by me. It follows that in my basic natural experience I am not
aware of my experience in opposition to another’s experience. In this way, we can
distinguish between two different modes of self-awareness of my perspective.
1. My perspective as opposed to other perspectives, which can be called “my exclu-
sive perspective.”
2. My perspective that is not opposed to other perspectives, which can be called
“my primal perspective.”
The reason why the latter is called the “primal perspective” is that in our world
experience, it is rather rare that my perspective drastically conflicts with the per-
spective of others. It is true that our everyday life is full of disagreements and dif-
ferences of opinions, but the overwhelmingly greater part of the world is still
presupposed by both sides of oppositions as “objective reality.” This objective real-
ity is also experienced by me, but I do not think that this reality is exclusively given
to me. I would like to ascribe such a mode of experience to a “primal perspective.”
It is not necessary to think that in this perspective, my view and other views
merge into one. Merging is only meaningful in contrast to opposition. If there is an
opposition, it is also meaningful to speak of merging. However, before all opposi-
tion, nothing can merge. If the “primal perspective” precedes the opposition of our
views, it also precedes every merging. Originally, I see the world from such a per-
spective, in which others and myself are neither opposed nor merged into one.
This view is obviously related to the “neither-one-nor-many” character of the
primal I. The above discussion in the Sect. 4 shows that this seemingly odd charac-
ter can be found in our natural world-experience. As we have discussed, in our very
basic, primal mode of world-experience, the opposition between my view and other
views does not necessarily play an essential role. This does not mean that there is
something like God’s perspective at the starting point of our world-experience,
which goes beyond my own perspective. Rather, the “primal” perspective is “my”
perspective from which I see the world in the most elemental and ordinary way,
where this “my” does not signify my exclusive perspective. Even when there is a
conflict between my view and other views, this opposition of views is also experi-
enced from “my” primal perspective.
In short, there is a perspective that is experienced by me, but is not confined to
my exclusive perspective. We can neither understand such a “primal” perspective as
one of many perspectives that are opposed to each other, nor as a God’s perspective
which encompasses all perspectives. Rather, what is at stake here is an extremely
simple and obvious view that does not attract attention because it is always present
and forms a permanent background of all of my experience. With the term “primal
I” Husserl arguably refers to such a dimension in our experience which has been
described above as the “primal perspective.”
66 S. Taguchi
6 Transcendental Uncovering of Naturalness
In light of the previous discussion, one might wonder how to understand the situa-
tion that the character of “primal I,” which is a kind of transcendental ego, is also
found in our natural world-experience. Does this not mean that we have mixed up
the transcendental with the natural?
If one thinks that talking about natural experience cannot have a transcendental
meaning, then one has made the mistake of believing that natural and transcendental
experience belong to two different regions that exclude each other. Instead, in
Husserl’s phenomenology, transcendental consideration means reflectively disclos-
ing the true state of natural experience that does not manifest itself in the ongoing
natural attitude. A phenomenologist does not go beyond natural life. Rather, she
stays in the midst of it. Still, she does not simply live it through, but instead makes
its essential features apparent from the inside. Transcendental reflection means
breaking through the barriers of superficial, supposed naturalness to go back to the
true naturalness of experience.12
It is exactly this true naturalness which does not stand out in everyday natural
life. That is why it looks unfamiliar when it is disclosed by the epoché that suspends
more superficial natural constituents. The “neither-one-nor-many” character of the
primal I looks strange exactly in this sense. As has been discussed above, if we take
a closer look, the character of “neither-one-nor-many” can also be found in every-
day experience. However, we usually forget this fact because we are caught up in
the cycle of the abstract way of seeing that is close at hand. The dichotomy between
one and many belongs to this cycle. It is necessary to break this cycle in order to
make ourselves aware of what is truly natural in our experiencing life. Such an
uncovering of the true, therefore hardly noticeable naturalness, is an essentially
phenomenological praxis. This is why Husserl emphasizes the following trait of
phenomenology since his early work, the Logical Investigations.
[The philosopher] must surely also know that it is precisely behind the obvious that the
hardest problems lie hidden, that this is so much so, in fact, that philosophy may be para-
doxically, but not unprofoundly, called the science of the trivial. In the present case at least
what seems at first quite trivial, reveals itself, on closer examination, as the source of deep-
lying, widely ramifying problems. (Hua XIX/1, p. 350/76)13
12
For Husserl, the transcendental question can be formulated as follows: “How is the naïve obvi-
ousness of the certainty of the world, the certainty in which we live—and, what is more, the cer-
tainty of the everyday world as well as that of the sophisticated theoretical constructions built upon
this everyday world—to be made comprehensible?” (Hua VI, p. 99/96) Husserl also describes the
subjective phenomena in the life-world as follows. “It is a realm of something subjective which is
completely closed off within itself, existing in its own way, functioning in all experiencing, all
thinking, all life, thus everywhere inseparably involved; yet it has never been held in view, never
been grasped and understood” (Hua VI, p. 114/112).
13
This view was not abandoned after the transcendental turn of Husserl’s phenomenology. In
Einleitung in die Philosophie of 1922/23, Husserl repeats almost the same statement (Hua XXXV,
p. 8). As for the interpretation of phenomenological praxis as “science of the obvious,” see also
Taguchi 2006, Chapter I.
7 Conclusion
In the face of the concept of “primal I,” we tend to think that it indicates something
extraordinary lurking behind our everyday consciousness. However, the reason why
we are not usually aware of the phenomenon of “primal I “is not that it is something
unusual and exceptional, but that it is too close to our own experiencing life. One of
the achievements of phenomenology is to reveal that our consciousness is usually
fixed to static transcendent objectivities, and due to this we are not aware of the
incessantly changing and flowing experience that we live through very closely. The
“primal I” is nothing other than a faithful development of this kind of basic phenom-
enological idea, namely, the idea of making visible what is invisible due to its
extreme proximity. If the “primal I” with its neither-one-nor-many character appears
bizarre, it is not because the “primal I” is exceptional, but because it is too obvious
and familiar to be noticed as a distinct object of experience – just as seeing itself is
not visible in sight.
References14
Aguirre, A. 1982. Die Phänomenologie Husserls im Licht ihrer gegenwärtigen Interpretation und
Kritik. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft.
Fink, E. 1976. Nähe und Distanz. Phänomenologische Vorträge und Aufsätze. Freiburg/München:
Karl Alber.
Hart, J. 1992. The Person and the Common Life: Studies in a Husserlian Social Ethics. Dordrecht:
Springer.
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Phänomenologie, Husserliana, Bd. VI, Hrsg. v. W. Biemel, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff. (=
Hua VI)
———. 1970. The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology. Trans.
D. Carr. Evanston: Northwestern University Press.
———. 1973. Zur Phänomenologie der Intersubjektivität. Texte aus dem Nachlass. Dritter Teil:
1929–1935. Husserliana, Bd. XV, Hrsg. v. I. Kern, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff (= Hua XV).
———. 1976. Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie.
Erstes Buch: Allgemeine Einführung in die reine Phänomenologie. 1. Halbband, Husserliana,
Bd. III/1, Neu hrsg. v. K. Schuhmann, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff (= Hua III/1).
———. 1984. Logische Untersuchungen. Zweiter Band: Untersuchungen zur Phänomenologie
und Theorie der Erkenntnis. I. Teil. Hrsg. v. U. Panzer, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff (= Hua
XIX/1).
———. 2001. Logical Inverstigations, Volume II. Trans. J. N. Findlay, ed. D. Moran. London/
New York: Routledge.
14
Which is abbreviated as Hua followed by the roman numeral corresponding to the volume. The
volume numbers of Husserliana are shown in the reference list. (E.g. “Hua XXXV” refers to the
volume 35 of Husserliana [Husserl 2002].) The English translations of the quotes from the Crisis
are taken from D. Carr’s translation (Husserl 1970), whose pages are shown after a slash (e.g. Hua
VI, 188/184). The translation of a passage from Logical Investigations is taken from J. N. Findlay’s
translation (Husserl 2001), where pages are shown in the same way.
68 S. Taguchi
———. 2002. Einleitung in die Philosophie. Vorlesungen 1922/23. Hrsg. V. B. Goossens,
Dordrecht: Springer (= Hua XXXV).
Micali, S. 2008. Überschüsse der Erfahrung. Grenzdimensionen des Ich nach Husserl. Dordrecht:
Springer.
Niel, L. 2011. Absoluter Fluss – Urprozess – Urzeitigung. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann.
Schelling, F.W.J. 1958. Schellings Werke, ed. Bd. I, M. Schröter. München: C.H. Beck.
Taguchi, S. 2006. Das Problem des,Ur-Ich’ bei Edmund Husserl. Die Frage nach der
selbstverständlichen,Nähe’ des Selbst. Dordrecht: Springer.
———. 2018. Non-contextual Self: Husserl and Nishida on the Primal Mode of the Self. In The
Realizations of the Self, ed. A. Altobrando, T. Niikawa, and R. Stone, 31–46. London: Palgrave
Macmillan.
Theunissen, M. 1965. Der Andere. Studien zur Sozialontologie der Gegenwart. Berlin: de Gruyter.
Zahavi, D. 1996. Husserl und die transzendentale Intersubjektivität. Eine Antwort auf die sprach-
pragmatische Kritik. Dordrecht: Kluwer.
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and History, ed. J. Bloechl and N. de Warren, 1–14. Dordrecht: Springer.
Shigeru Taguchi (Ph.D., University of Wuppertal) is Professor at Hokkaido University. He is the

author of Das Problem des “Ur-Ich” bei Edmund Husserl. Die Frage nach der selbstverständli-
chen “Nähe” des Selbst (Springer, 2006) and editor of Perception, Affectivity, and Volition in
Husserl’s Phenomenology (with R. Walton and R. Rubio, Springer 2017). His recent publications
include Reduction to Evidence as a Liberation of Thinking in Metodo, Vol.1, No.1, 2013. His
research topics are phenomenology, philosophy of consciousness, and Japanese philosophy.
A Husserlian Account of the Affective
Cognition of Value
Toru Yaegashi
Abstract We seem to have some knowledge of the value the things around us have.
And some of our knowledge of value seems to be acquired through affective experi-
ences, i.e., by our emotions. In this paper, I will give an account of the relationship
between emotions and knowledge of values, largely based on Edmund Husserl’s
theory of perception of value (Wertnehmung). First, I will give a pro tanto justifica-
tion of the idea that affective cognition of value exists. Then, I will briefly introduce
two different accounts of affective cognition of value from early phenomenology:
one account supported by Husserl, the other by Max Scheler (among others). By
comparing these two accounts, I will argue that the Husserlian account is more
promising of the two. It deals with emotions in analogy with sense perception. Thus,
it can be regarded as one form of a perceptual account of emotion, which is quite
popular in the contemporary philosophy of emotion. I will argue for the plausibility
of the perceptual account of emotion in general, and then, at the end of the chapter,
I will argue that my own, Husserl-inspired version of the perceptual account is a
valid way of explaining our cognition of values.
Keywords Emotion · Value · Knowledge · Perception · Perceptual account of

emotion · Edmund Husserl
1 Introduction
The environment around us is always filled with things that have positive and nega-
tive values. Writing this passage, I am looking at a laptop computer on my desk, a
cherry blossom blooming outside the window, and a car running in front of my
house at breakneck speeds; I am hearing noises coming from the construction work
going on in the neighborhood, and news about a murder case on the radio. All these
things that I perceive have some values. By “value” I mean properties things have or
T. Yaegashi (*)
Faculty of Engineering, Hiroshima Institute of Technology, Hiroshima, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_6
70 T. Yaegashi
do not have, whether positive (their goodness, beauty, ease of use, etc.) or negative
(their badness, ugliness, discomfort, danger, etc.).
We can have – at least, apparently – a knowledge of the value things have. Some
of our knowledge of values seems to be acquired through our affective experiences,
i.e., by having some emotions. For example, you may think it dangerous to walk in
the forest at night, after your first experience of doing so caused you to shiver with
fear. Or you may find Donald’s treatment of Mary unacceptable and get annoyed
with him when you hear him make a sexist remark to her. In these cases, you are
exercising a kind of cognition that includes an emotion as an essential component.
It is neither a perceptual cognition of natural facts, nor a cognition by inference. It
seems to be a sui generis affective cognition of value.
In this paper, I will propose an account of the relationship between emotions and
knowledge of value, largely based on Husserl’s theory of perception of value. First,
I will give a pro tanto justification of the idea that affective cognition of value exists
(1). Then, I will briefly introduce two different accounts of affective cognition of
values from early phenomenology: one account supported by Husserl, the other by
Scheler (among others) (2). By comparing these two accounts, I will argue that the
Husserlian account is more promising of the two. It deals with emotions as being
analogous with sense perception. Thus, Husserl’s account can be regarded as one
form of a perceptual account of emotion, which is quite popular in the contempo-
rary philosophy of emotion (3). I will argue for the plausibility of the perceptual
account of emotion in general (4), and then, at the end of the paper, I will show that
my own, Husserl-inspired version of the perceptual account is a valid way of
explaining our cognition of values (5).
2 Emotions and Knowledge of Value
Our affective experience, as a whole, contains various kinds of experiences. Among

them, one class of experiences is called emotions, in other words the class which
includes the classic examples of joy, sadness, fear, anger, disgust, etc. What these
mental episodes have in common is that they are always about something. In other
words, emotions are intentional experiences. We experience the joy of a friend’s
visit, the sadness of a grandmother’s death, the fear of earthquakes, the anger at a
colleague’s rude behavior, and the disgust at a rotten egg. Sometimes our emotions
do not have a specific, well-articulated intentional object. However, we cannot have
an emotion that entirely lacks an intentional object. If an episode in your affective
life does not have an intentional object, it is not an emotion but a mood. Anxiety and
depression are standard examples of moods.
There are many kinds of intentional experiences. What, then, is the characteristic
of emotions that distinguishes them from other kinds of intentional experiences?
When I am glad that my friend has come to visit, I take this particular event as some-
thing delightful; when I am afraid of earthquakes, I regard a disaster that might
happen in the future as dangerous. The intentionality of emotions can be
A Husserlian Account of the Affective Cognition of Value 71
c haracterized, in the first place, as representing something which has a positive or

negative value. In other words, those intentional experiences that ascribe certain
values to their intentional objects are called emotions.
The value ascribed to an object by an emotion may or may not actually be pos-
sessed by the object. Accordingly, those emotions may or may not be appropriate to
the situation or toward the object. An appropriate fear is a fear of something that is
actually fearful or dangerous; an appropriate disgust is disgust at something that is
actually disgusting or hideous. Each type of emotion has its own condition of appro-
priateness, which can be described using an evaluative predicate, such as delightful,
dangerous, painful, admirable, etc.
In what follows, I will use the word “emotions” to refer to those intentional expe-
riences that suffice for the conditions I have just sketched above: they must be evalu-
ative representations of objects, and their conditions of appropriateness must contain
some evaluative predicates. Therefore, the questions of whether all emotions are
intentional, and if emotions can be inappropriate at all will be put outside of the
consideration here, though they are not meaningless as such.1
How, then, is having an emotion about a certain object related to knowing its
value? We talk about “knowing the value of things” in everyday conversation. Jane,
who has seen Michelangelo’s Pietà, is to be said to know its beauty better, all other
things being equal, than Tom, who has never seen it. Sean, who happened to see his
boss in an incident of misconduct, is said to know the moral value of both him and
his actions better than Beth, who did not see what happened, all other things being
equal. These everyday cases show that we can have knowledge, not just opinions,
about the value of things.
What distinguishes those who do have knowledge of the value of a certain thing
from those who do not? To answer this question, let us turn our attention to the
relationship between emotions and evaluative judgment. An established critic would
be said to know the value of a particular work of art better than a layperson. He
would likely be able to give reasons for why he has deemed a work valuable: its
masterful composition, the painter’s deep understanding of the motif, its innovative-
ness for its time, the influence it had on the following generations of painters, and
so on. The layperson, in contrast, would probably not be able to give such clear and
convincing reasons for his aesthetic judgment. A professional and evaluative judg-
ment differs from a lay judgment to the extent that the former has justificatory rea-
sons that are not merely subjective, or in other words, can convince other people. So
we can argue that an evaluative judgment deserves to be called knowledge of value
only if it is adequately justified.
Indeed, an evaluative judgment may or may not be justified, just like other kinds
of judgment. An evaluative judgment cannot be axiological knowledge if it is not
justified. An evaluative judgment without justification is still an evaluative judg-
ment, but it is epistemologically deficient. That is to say, it is something less than the
real knowledge of value.
1
For the discussion of the intentionality of emotion, see Goldie 2000, chapter 2; Deonna and
Teroni 2012, chapter 1.
72 T. Yaegashi
If there is a knowledge of value, what makes it what it is? What, in other words,
is the foundation of axiological knowledge? What kind of experience constitutes it?
The justification of an evaluative judgment may consist of various elements. It is an
experience of “being touched” or “being struck” by value of things that have privi-
leged roles among these elements.2 Even though an experienced critic has a good
deal of knowledge about a certain painting from literature, his judgment that it is
beautiful is not adequately justified if he has never seen it. Does not a layperson, if
he has actually seen it, have better knowledge of the beauty of the painting in ques-
tion, even though his background knowledge is not as rich as that of the critic?
To give another example, suppose a friend tells you that Bistro A serves a deli-
cious spaghetti carbonara, and you have never eaten it there. Convinced by him, you
come to believe that Bistro A’s carbonara is delicious. After a few days, you eventu-
ally visit that restaurant and eat carbonara, and you do indeed find it delicious. Your
judgment about the taste of Bistro A’s carbonara is the same in its propositional
content as before. But something has changed; something seemingly unignorable in
the justificatory basis for that evaluative judgment.
These examples show that it makes an epistemological difference as to whether
an evaluative judgment is accompanied by something we should call a direct aware-
ness of the value of things. Such an awareness of value, if it exists, would not be
reflected in the content of the evaluative judgment. However, if a direct awareness
of value accompanies an evaluative judgment, it makes the latter closer to a real
knowledge of value. I say it makes it closer to knowledge, because an evaluative
judgment may not be adequately justified, even though it is accompanied by a direct
awareness of value. Being moved by the beauty of a painting or the taste of spaghetti
may be unreliable. You might have been under the influence of drugs, for example.
Moreover, even if your awareness of value is reliable, your judgment may be dis-
torted by other mental states. For example, you might hate a critic who admires a
certain painting and want to disagree with him out of spite. However, if there is no
such fault in the reliability of your awareness of value or any distorting factors in
your motivational set, an evaluative judgment accompanied by a direct awareness of
value is epistemologically privileged over an evaluative judgment without such an
awareness.3
As the phrase “being struck by value” suggests, a direct awareness of the value
that is at stake is not the same as a direct awareness of objects, such as the p erception
2
See Mulligan 2009 and 2010. I owe the notion of “being struck by value” to him. However
Mulligan prefers Schelerian view to Husserlian one. My argument in the Sect. 4 of the present
paper is an objection to him.
3
One might wonder that, if a direct awareness of value can be a justificatory basis for thick evalu-
ative judgments like “The dog is dangerous” or “Donald’s behavior is rude,” it would not apply for
thin evaluative judgments that something is good, bad, right, or wrong. I will show in Sect. 6 of the
present paper that appropriate emotions can provide the justificatory basis for evaluative judgments
in general, provided that their value has an aspect-relative and context-dependent character. I admit
that justificatory basis for thin judgments is more complex than that of thick judgments. However,
I do not think that there is an insurmountable gap. I would like to offer my thanks to Helmut Heit
for making me aware of this matter.
of a physical object. A person may lack a direct awareness of the value of a particu-
lar painting, even though he is seeing it. He would not be aware of its value if he, for
example, has never seen a work of fine art, and he does not see a painting as any-
thing more than a colored surface of a canvas. Also, in the event that his brain was
injured so that his affective function has become paralyzed, he might not be able to
have a direct awareness of beauty. A direct awareness of value necessarily includes
an affective movement within the mind.
In this section, I have provided a pro tanto justification for the idea that we can
have affective knowledge of value. I have done this in order to prepare for the fol-
lowing discussion. I think it became clear that “affective knowledge of value” refers
to a justified evaluative judgment that is accompanied by a direct awareness of the
value of its object. Note that I do not intend to argue for the strong claim that all
values can be given in a direct awareness. In the following, I only assume that we
can directly know some values through our affective experiences. In the next sec-
tion, I will consider, by referring to the works of some early phenomenologists, how
and by what kind of experience an affective cognition of value can be achieved.
3 Two Views in the Early Phenomenology
In this section, I will reconstruct two conflicting views on the affective cognition of
value in the early phenomenology. Husserl advocates the first view, and Edith Stein
also adopts this view (Stein 1917). Looking outside of the early phenomenological
schools (the Munich and Göttingen circles), Alexius Meinong and Aurel Kolnai can
also be counted as members of this camp (Meinong 1917 and Kolnai 2004). The
Husserlian view, as I call it, regards the cognition of concrete value as achieved by
the emotions, such as fear, joy, sorrow, anger, etc. The second view is advocated by
Max Scheler, Moritz Geiger, and Dietrich von Hildebrand, among others (Scheler
1916, Geiger 1911 and Hildebrand 1916). They claim that the cognition of value is
achieved by what they call value-feeling (Wertfühlen), which is distinct from emo-
tion. I call this the Schelerian view.4
These views are in conflict with each other, with respect to how the affective
knowledge of value should be placed in the realm of conscious experiences. The
question is whether the affective knowledge of value consists of emotion, or of
value-feeling. Moreover, these two views can be regarded as two different accounts
of the nature of the emotion. The Husserlian view considers emotion to contain an
access to concrete value; in contrast, the Schelerian view has it that an emotion itself
does not have any such access: it is, rather, a reaction to the value already given to
us by value-feeling. I will reformulate both views, referring to the texts written by
their representatives.
4
For a more detailed comparison of two camps, see Vendrell Ferran 2008, chapter 6. Vendrell
Ferran herself supports the Schelerian view.
74 T. Yaegashi
3.1 The Husserlian View
Husserl calls the conscious act which makes an individual object directly accessible
to us as having some concrete value, the “Wertnehmung,” or value-perception.
We have, so to speak, a direct acquaintance (Kenntnisnahme) of the value, or better, of the
object characterized in its value. We called it a simple value-perception (schlichte
Wertnehmung). (Husserl 2004, p. 292).
It is obvious that Husserl coined the term through the combination of Wert
(value) and Wahrnehmung (perception). As the following quotation shows, he
regards value-perception as analogous to ordinary perception, namely sense percep-
tion, but also as belonging to the affective realm of consciousness.
The most original constitution of value is performed in feelings (Gemüt) as that pre-
theoretical (in a broad sense) delighting devotion (genießende Hingabe) on the part of the
feeling Ego-subject, for which I used the term “value-perception” already several decades
ago in my lectures. (Husserl 1952, p. 9; modified from the English trans. by Rojcewicz and
Schuwer).
What he calls “delighting devotion” is “that feeling in which the Ego lives with
the consciousness of being in the presence of the object ‘itself’ in the manner of
feelings” (ibid.). When you, for example, enjoy listening to music (Husserl 2004:
75), smoking a cigar (cf. Ms. A VI 12 II, 37a), or looking at a beautiful woman (cf.
Ms. A VI 8 I, 45a), you are in a state of delighting devotion to the object’s value.
Husserl distinguishes this kind of affective experience, which is nothing else but the
value-perception, from an “empty” kind of evaluative judgment that lacks an affec-
tive sensation.
For Husserl, value-perception is what provides direct access to the value of an
object. But at the same time, it is an act that is founded on other cognitive experi-
ences. It is necessary to see the body of a woman, whether in person or in a photo-
graph, to be aware of her beauty. In this case, the value-perception of beauty has a
visual perception or an image consciousness (Bildbewusstsein) as its cognitive
basis. The value-perception makes the value of an object accessible, only based on
some cognitive, non-axiological, experiences of the same object. According to the
Husserlian account, therefore, an affective cognition of value contains two aspects
at the same time: a direct awareness of value, on the one hand, and an act founded
on a non-axiological cognition, on the other hand.
The value-perception, as characterized by Husserl, is, in my view, simply emo-
tion. His examples, such as the delight we feel when hearing music, smoking a
cigar, or looking at a woman, are emotions. Although he only mentions positive
feelings, nothing prevents negative feelings, such as disgust, fear, and sadness, from
being examples of value-perceptions.
Thus, we can summarize the Husserlian view as follows:
An affective cognition of value is realized by what we usually call emotion, and (b)
it is analogous in its epistemological role to sense perception, and (c) it requires
some non-axiological acts as its cognitive basis which provides us access to the
non-evaluative properties of the object.
3.2 The Schelerian View
For Scheler, in contrast to Husserl, things that we usually call emotions, such as joy,
sadness, anger, are not directed to objects with values; they are thus not intentional
in the proper sense. An emotion is a merely reactive attitude toward what is already
given in consciousness. Scheler calls it “feeling-state (Gefühlszustand).” It lacks the
function of originally giving an object value. Instead, this function is a distinct type
of act which he calls “intentional feeling” or literally, “feeling of values (Fühlen von
Werten).” It is a genuinely intentional experience that originally gives an object of
value to consciousness. It first establishes a cognitive access to value, after which an
emotion might occur. To use his example, “certain evils must be ‘comprehended’
beforehand in feeling if anger is to be aroused” (Scheler 1916, p. 272). Following
Scheler’s idea, Hildebrand impressively illustrates the distinction and relationship
between value-feeling and emotion:
I see in the street how a child is being mistreated and a terrible indignation wells up in me.
I am indignant about the vileness and brutality of this behavior. This indignation is clearly
not a having (Haben) of the vileness and brutality, but a response (Antwort) to these quali-
ties with which I am already acquainted, in other words, a position-taking (Stellungnahme)
to the object which stands in front of me (Hildebrand 1916: 137).
Both Scheler and Hildebrand characterize the value-feeling as a direct awareness

of concrete value, and they distinguish this from propositional knowledge of value.
An evaluative judgment that a certain behavior is brutal first forms after the subject
becomes aware of its brutality. The relationship between a value-feeling and an
evaluative judgment stands in analogy with the relationship between a perception
and a perceptual judgment. In this respect, the Schelerian view also admits the anal-
ogy of the affective cognition of value with the perception, as the Husserlian view
does. The most important difference between the two views pertains to the status of
emotions. Whereas Husserl and his followers believe that the function of affectively
becoming aware of the value belongs to the emotion itself, Scheler and his followers
believe that it belongs to the value-feeling which is distinct from the emotion.
Another difference is that the Schelerian view regards the value-feeling as an
originally giving act which is not founded on other cognitive experiences, while
Husserl regards value-perception as requiring some cognitive basis.
We can summarize the Schelerian view as follows:
(a′) An affective cognition of value is realized through a value-feeling, which is
distinct from an emotion, and (b) it is analogous to sense perception in its episte-
mological status, and (c′) it does not have any cognitive basis.
4 The Advantage of the Husserlian View
Following the reconstructions given above, I will argue that the Husserlian account
has an advantage over the Schelerian view. Namely, I will show that an affective
cognition of value should be explained as being realized through emotion, rather
76 T. Yaegashi
than by something similar to value-feeling. In the first place, the existence of an act
of value-feeling the Schelerian view postulates is doubtful, to say the least. We can
hardly find something like a value-feeling in folk psychology. As for the character-
ization of value-feeling, we are not provided with more than the formal one: it is an
act of consciousness distinct from an emotion, which gives us a non-propositional
knowledge of an instance of an axiological property. In contrast, we have a much
richer characterization of emotions. There are various types of emotions (anger,
fear, sadness, joy, etc.); each of them is accompanied by a different kind of qualita-
tive feeling and bodily change; they can affect our cognition and action, and can be
affected by them as well, in different ways. We know all these things about emotions
from our everyday experiences and from psychological studies. A value-feeling
seems detached from such empirical resources. In short, we have little intuition
about what a value-feeling actually is.
Of course, the advocates of the Schelerian view do make efforts to intuitively
convince us of the existence of value-feelings. Scheler argues that it is possible to,
for instance, experience the same pain in different ways: one can suffer, endure, and
even enjoy it. If these are possible ways of experiencing the same concrete value,
one should distinguish the act of consciousness through which a pain becomes orig-
inally given in one’s consciousness, from the different modes of response to it
(Scheler 1916, p. 270). However, this argument is too weak. Why should we think
that the same value is experienced in different modes? We can rather think that the
different values are given in consciousness in each case. Because it is natural to
regard the way of valuing pain as being different in each case: when I enjoy pain in
my body, its value is different for me, compared with the case in which I suffer or
endure it.
All things considered, does Hildebrand’s illustration cited above convince us?
When you see a child mistreated and become indignant, your indignation itself is a
reactive attitude. However, what the indignation is about is given in the conscious-
ness beforehand, according to Hildebrand. The situation he describes is easily imag-
inable, but the way he explains it is not the only possible way to interpret the
situation. It is also possible to say that you become aware of the brutality of the
mistreatment at the very moment you get indignant, and that the two things (aware-
ness of brutality, on the one hand, and indignation, on the other) are actually one and
the same thing. Moreover, Hildebrand’s explanation would be convincing only if
you assume that an emotion is a merely reactive experience. However, it begs the
question to assume this. Finally, even if this assumption is true – though I do not
think it is – the notion Hldebrand uses to explain the case, the value-feeling, has no
place in our everyday intuitions, as argued above.
One might say that a non-intuitive item may also be admitted if it is helpful for
us to explain a certain phenomenon. This is correct. Yet it should be admitted only
if it cannot be substituted by a comparatively less dubious means of explanation. As
far as I can see, the explanatory role the Schelerian view expects from the value-
feeling can be played by emotions as well, and this idea fits much better into our
everyday intuition. Therefore, there is no need to use a dubious concept like value-
feeling. This is the advantage of the Husserlian view. If the phenomenon of direct
awareness of value can be explained by emotions, which are relatively familiar to

us, this explanation is better than one that employs the Schelerian notion of
value-feeling.
Another important distinction of Husserl’s position from Scheler’s is that the
former does not presuppose, nor entail, any kind of naïve realism about value. As is
well known, the transcendental position of Husserl claims that any kind of object is
constituted in the corresponding kind of conscious experience. For example, physi-
cal things are constituted in our perceptual experience. Accordingly, value is sup-
posed to be constituted in our affective experiences. Husserl’s transcendental
idealism, which intends to find out how every kind of objectivitiy is constituted
within consciousness, is entirely different from, say, expressivist anti-realism,
which regards some kind of properties as a projection onto the world. Transcendental
idealism is rather a systematic attempt to disclose the “sense” of what exists in the
world, from within our experiences.
[W]e have here a transcendental idealism that is nothing more than a consequentially exe-
cuted self-explication in the form of a systematic egological science, an explication of my
ego as subject of every possible cognition, and indeed with respect to every sense of what
exists, wherewith the latter might be able to have a sense for me, the ego. It is sense-
explication achieved by actual work, an explication carried out as regards every type of
existent ever conceivable by me, the ego, and specifically as regards the transcendency
actually given to me beforehand through experience: Nature, culture, the world as a whole.
But that signifies: systematic uncovering of the constituting intentionality itself. (Husserl
1950, pp. 118–9; my italics).
Husserl’s analogy of emotion and sense perception should be understood against

the background of his transcendental idealism. According to Husserl, the meaning
of the fact that an object has, objectively, particular value will become intelligible
through the analysis of the appropriateness condition of the corresponding emotion.
This amounts to a constitutive analysis of value. If this project is feasible, the
Husserlian account has another advantage over the Schelerian account. Unlike
Scheler’s naïve realism about value, the Husserlian account does not leave the
meaning of having value untouched. It will provide an elucidation of this meaning
by analyzing the affective intentionality.
I have shown that the Husserlian account of the affective cognition of value is
more plausible than its rival account. The next step should be to show that it pro-
vides a satisfactory explanation. For this purpose, I will argue for the analogy of
emotion and perception in the following sections. The Husserlian view can be
regarded as a form of a perceptual account of emotion, since it puts emotion in anal-
ogy with sense perception. The perceptual account is quite popular in the
contemporary discussion of the nature of the emotion,5 though there are some objec-
tions. To defend the Husserlian view, it is necessary to argue for the analogy itself,
while at the same time answering the objections.
5
For an overview of perceptual theories of emotion and objections to it, see Deonna and Teroni
2012, chap. 6.
78 T. Yaegashi
5 To What Extent is Emotion Similar to Perception?
The theory of emotion faces at least two requirements. First, since emotion is an
experience we feel, the felt aspect of emotion should be considered. The theories
that reduce emotion to an evaluative judgment (Nussbaum 2001; Solomon 1993)
can be criticized for not being able to meet this requirement. Second, emotion
reveals to us the world of things with value. A theory of emotion should explain this
epistemological role. A classical Jamesian theory of emotion (James 1884; Lange &
James 1922) is not sufficient for this requirement, since it regards emotion to be the
perception of changes in our own body, dismissing its directedness toward the
objects in the world. The contemporary perceptual theory of emotion intends to
explain both the felt aspect and epistemological role of emotions at the same time
within a single model. According to perceptual theorists, emotion is more like per-
ception than judgment; feeling fear is, for instance,to perceive a danger, feeling sad
is to perceive a loss, and so on (de Sousa 1987; Tappolet 2000; Döring 2007).
In what respect, then, is emotion like sense perception? What do they have in
common? First, when you feel an emotion, an object appears to you as having some
properties, or some value. For example, when you fear a dog, it appears dangerous;
when you are indignant at someone else’s behavior, their behavior appears unjust;
when you are glad to receive a present from a friend, what you received appears nice;
and so on. On these occasions, second, the values of dangerousness, unjustness, etc.
are not what you yourself actively ascribe to the objects, but rather what you receive
from them. In other words, the emotional appearance of an object’s value is not
under your conscious control. Perception shares both of these characteristics. A per-
ceptual object also appears as having certain properties (a certain color, shape, tex-
ture, etc.), and the subject receives its appearance, rather than actively configuring it.
Third, although emotion and perception are passive in the sense that they lack a
sense of control over the way an object appears, the subject does not simply receive
what there is as it is. As a perceptual appearance depends on the condition of a sub-
ject’s sense organs, an axiological appearance within the emotion depends on the
condition of the subject. As I mentioned in the sect. 2 of this paper, an affective
awareness of value can be distorted by physiological, pathological, and motiva-
tional states of the subject. In this sense, both emotions and perceptions have sub-
jective aspects.
However, fourth, they are not subjective in the sense that they are only about the
bodily or mental states of the subject. Rather, they are representational, or better,
intentional experiences, in the sense that they are about the objects in the world.
These four characteristics are things we can admit without serious dispute, at
least following the general characterization of the emotions that I presented in the
sect. 2. However, the perceptual account of emotion – thus, the Husserlian account,
too – insists on a stronger similarity of emotion and perception.
First of all, what the perceptual theorists regard as analogous to an individual
emotion is not a veridical perception, but a perceptual experience that could be an
illusion or hallucination. An emotion is not always appropriate; it may be inappro-
priate with respect to the object’s value. So, as for the fifth point of similarity, an
emotion has its condition of appropriateness, just like a perceptual experience has
its veridicality condition.
A veridical perception provides the knowledge of color, shape, texture, and
motion of its object. In a similar way, an appropriate emotion provides knowledge
of the value of its object, or so the perceptual account of emotion claims. Thus,
finally, both perception and emotion can be a source of knowledge, if they are
appropriate.
Even if perception and emotion are similar on all these aspects, they are obvi-
ously different in other respects. An important difference is that emotion necessarily
has a cognitive basis, while perception does not. I do not, however, think that this
difference gives the perceptual account any difficulties. Remember that the
Husserlian account admits the cognitive dependency of emotions as an essential
feature of such. On my view, this is really essential, since it makes an emotion a
representation of value. This character of the emotions corresponds to an essential
feature of the evaluative properties: they are aspect-relative and context-dependent,
unlike the perceptual properties. I will account for this feature of evaluative proper-
ties in the next section.
Another, albeit related, difference is that we can ask someone why he feels the
way he does, whereas we cannot ask why he perceives something the way he does
(Mulligan 2010, p. 485). However, this is not harmful to the perceptual account I
intend to defend, either. It is certain that you can ask why someone is sad, angry,
happy, etc. You can ask for not only a causal explanation but also a justification.
In contrast, it is strange to ask someone to give justification for seeing what he
sees. It does not make sense. This difference, however, derives from the fact that
an emotion always accompanies its cognitive basis, while perception does not. If
you ask a little girl scared by a dog why she is scared, an answer would be
“Because it barks!”, “Because it will bite me!” or something like that. These
answers refer back to the cognitive basis of her fear of the dog. It is natural that
the perception rejects this kind of justification, because it lacks a cognitive basis,
unlike emotion.6
So far the analogy of emotion with perception seems plausible. However, there
is another difference between both that seems to give the perceptual account of
emotion a serious difficulty. In the next section, I will deal with this difference.
6 E
motion, Aspect, and Context: In Defense
of the Perceptual Account of Emotion
If you feel an emotion, an object appears to you as having some value. However, an
axiological appearance of an object is not always the same for everyone. In a visual
perception, an object appears in the same way, provided it is standing still and seen
6
Helm (2015) mentions a couple of differences between emotion and perception that I did not
discuss here and argues that they are harmless for the perceptual theory for emotion.
80 T. Yaegashi
from the same location. The axiological appearance, instead, depends on some con-
ditions of the subject that do not affect the perceptual appearance. One and the same
thing or event may appear favorable to one and, at the same time, unfavorable to
another. Not only may the idea of what constitutes a felt emotion differ from person
to person, but that of an appropriate emotion may differ. Eating pork, for example,
is disgusting for some people, but alright or even preferable, for others.
Strictly speaking, the way things visually appear also depends on the subjective
condition. How a desk looks depends on perceiver’s height, quality of eyesight, the
effect of drugs, and so on. But this fact is not relevant to the difference between
perception and emotion that we are discussing here. The axiological appearance of
the object in an emotion may be affected by the cultural context in which the subject
lives and feels, whereas the visual appearance may not be affected by it. The value
of eating pork is affected by cultural, largely religious, contexts. This difference
between axiological and perceptual appearances seems a good reason to reject the
perceptual account of emotion.
A putative reaction from the perceptual view is that at least some perceptual
properties appear differently, depending on the cultural context. It is well known
that the number of colors in rainbow depends on the culture, especially on the lan-
guage the perceiver uses. Considering such an example, the cultural dependency of
axiological appearances does not seem to hinder the analogy of emotion with per-
ception. However, the case of a rainbow cannot be treated in the same way as the
case of eating pork. No matter how many colors you distinguish in a rainbow, it is
certain that you will see it as the arc having red (or “warm”) color on the one side
and purple (or “cold”) color on the other. In contrast, an emotional reaction to eating
pork may be totally opposite in a different cultural context. An inverted spectrum is
nothing more than a logical possibility in our visual experience, but its equivalent
really exists in our axiological experience.
Still insisting on the analogy, one might argue as follows: “Suppose someone
says it is white, and another says it is black, looking at the same thing from the same
angle. It is impossible that both are true. Either report may be false. In the same way,
if two persons have the opposite emotional reactions to the same thing, either may
be inappropriate.” Indeed, there are cases in which one reaction is inappropriate,
and another is appropriate. When you see a child mistreated on the street, for exam-
ple, getting indignant would be an appropriate reaction, but feeling delight would be
inappropriate. However, not all cases of emotional responses are like this. For exam-
ple, the case of eating pork is not of this kind. If some people are disgusted at eating
pork and others enjoy it, both parties might have an appropriate emotion when situ-
ated within the context of their own culture. It is hardly the case that one of their
cultures is right, and the other is wrong.
Following this line of thought, we should admit a crucial difference between the
veridicality of perception and appropriateness of emotion, and also a difference
between perceptual and axiological properties. Evaluative properties have a unique
relativity that perceptual properties do not have. It is such a strong relativity that
what constitutes an appropriate emotion may be totally opposite in different cul-
tures. How can the perceptual account of emotion cope with this difference?
I think our account here can cope with this difference in the following way. Firstly,
the evaluative properties can be regarded as being relative to the aspects. The same
thing, event or action type can be economically good, but morally bad, and so on.
There are moral, religious, economic, aesthetic, prudential, and other aspects of eval-
uation, to which goodness and badness are both relative. Moreover, what value an
object has is not only relative to the aspects of evaluation, but they are also dependent
on the cultural context or situation in which it is placed. The religious value of eating
pork depends, for example, on whether it is done by a Muslim or by a person of
another religion. Thus, I claim that the value of an object is always aspect-relative and
context-dependent. There are no evaluative properties of being good or bad per se.
I admit that the evaluative properties are different from the perceptual properties
in the above respect. Evaluative properties are aspect-relative and context-dependent
in a sense in which perceptual properties are not. To admit this difference is to
loosen the analogy between perception and emotion. But this does not mean that the
perceptual account of emotion itself must be abandoned. The evaluative properties
are not subjective, that is to say, they are not the properties our experiences have. As
exemplified by the objects in the world, they are objective properties. It does not
prevent them from being objective that they are aspect-relative and context-
dependent. The emotions provide us cognitive access to such properties. Insofar as
this point may be preserved, the perceptual theory of emotion can still account for
the epistemological role of the emotions. And, insofar as the similarities between
emotion and sense perception I listed in Sect. 5 may be preserved, the perceptual
account can also explain (at least a part of) the felt aspect of emotions.
In this paper, I have argued that the analogy of emotion with perception is, despite
several differences between them, an important indicator of how we can account for
the epistemological role of emotions. Even if one admits that an appropriate emo-
tional reaction to an object depends on the cultural background, one does not need
to abandon the perceptual account of emotion. One only needs to accept the fact that
the value has aspect-relative and context-dependent characters. The view I have
defended here includes many things Husserl did not explicitly say, but I believe that
it is not only consistent with what he thought, but also fits well into his transcendental-
idealist spirit.7
7
The previous version of this paper was presented at the Consciousness and the World: Conference
on Phenomenology - East Asia held at Tongji University, Shanghai. Thanks for the helpful com-
ments to the participants. Especially, I am grateful to Helmut Heit for a wonderful and detailed
commentary on my presentation there. The author is supported by the Grant-in-Aid for Scientific
Research from the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (JSPS).
82 T. Yaegashi
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James, W. 1884. What is emotion? Mind 9: 188–205.
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B. Smith and C. Korsmeyer, 93–109. Chicago: Open Court.
Lange, C., and W. James. 1922. The emotions. Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins.
Meinong, A. 1917 [1968]. Über emotionale Präsentation. In Alexius Meinong Gesamtausgabe, Bd.
III, Graz: Akademische Druck- u. Verlagsanstalt.
Mulligan, K. 2009. On Being Struck by Value: Exclamations, Motivations and Vocations. In Leben
mit Gefühlen: Emotionen, Werte und ihre Kritik, ed. B. Merkel, 141–161. Paderborn: Mentis.
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Toru Yaegashi (Ph.D., The University of Tokyo) is Associate Professor of the Faculty of
Engineering, Hiroshima Institute of Technology. He is the author of Husserl ni okeru kachi to jis-
sen [Value and Practice in Husserl] (Suisei-sha, 2017) and the coauthor of Gendai Gensho-gaku
[Contemporary Phenomenology] (Shin-yo-sha, 2017). His research topics are classical phenome-
nology (Husserl, Pfänder, Reinach, Scheler, Otaka, etc.), ethics, and philosophy of emotion. He
has been a Visiting Scholar at the Husserl Archives, University of Cologne.
Husserl on Experience, Expression,
and Reason
Shun Sato
Abstract In this essay, I develop Husserl’s view of the relation between sense
experience and empirical knowledge by outlining the idea of Husserlian expressiv-
ism. I begin the essay by taking a look at the relevant problem on empirical knowl-
edge in the literature. The point is that the content of experience is of the propositional
form if experience should have justificatory significance. Husserl emphasizes the
epistemological significance of the perceptual presence of objects; nevertheless, he
sees perceptual sense as nonpropositional. How can we understand Husserl’s
thought? I argue that Husserl’s conception of expression in Ideas I can give us a
clue. Interpreting this conception as saying that expression is not representational
medium, but the logical form of the content of experience, I argue that we can
ascribe the significance to experience as such, which is only made explicit by
expression: propositional form is the expressive form of the implicit experiential
content. This interpretation also makes a Husserlian conception of reason possible
in which perceptual experience as such can have its rationality. Characterizing sense
experience as a non-discursive form of reason, I attempt to describe this conception
as an explication of holistically conducted inquiry of empirical knowledge.
Keywords Perceptual knowledge · Space of reasons · Categorial intuition ·

Expressivism
1 Introduction
No one doubts that what makes knowledge empirical is its relation to sense experi-
ence; for it is almost the definition of empirical knowledge that it originates from
sense perception. However, how and in what sense it originates from experience is
not obvious. Thus there are various philosophical theories about this relation. As
Husserl states:
S. Sato (*)
Yamagata Prefectural University of Health Sciences, Yamagata, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_7
84 S. Sato
Position belongs to any appearing “in person” on the part of a physical thing; it is not just
somehow one with the appearing [...]; it is one with it in a peculiar manner: it is “motivated”
by <the appearing> and again, not just somehow, but “rationally motivated.” That is to say,
position has its original legitimizing basis in originary givenness (Hua III/1, p. 316/328).
According to Husserl, the perceptually given does not go without a sort of belief,
or Setzung (position): the latter is rationally motivated by the former, i.e. the bodily
presence of the object of which the belief is. Husserl thus characterizes what he calls
Evidenz (evidence) as follows: “[E]vidence of any kind [...] is thus a wholly distin-
guishing occurrence; in terms of its “core” it is the unity of a rational position with
that which essentially motivates the position [...]” (ibid.). Granted that being knowl-
edge implies being justified belief, and to motivate rationally can be understood as
describing a kind of justification, we can say that evidence in Husserl’s sense is, in
the best case, the original acquirement of knowledge.1 Empirical knowledge origi-
nates from sense experience in the sense that experience originally confers the right
of being knowledge upon belief.
Superficially, this idea is very plausible, especially insofar as it belongs to our
ordinary practice to see the things around us and to know the situation or confirm
our own belief when we find ourselves in doubt. What makes us certain is the pres-
ence of the objects themselves. Furthermore, in some cases, we may regard some-
one as irresponsible if he believes or makes claims about some things without
seeing anything for himself. However, it is not easy to understand the matter from a
philosophical perspective, as we shall see immediately below. In this essay, we will
offer a way of looking at the matter by interpreting Husserl’s view on perceptual
experience, expression, and reason.
2 Experience and the Space of Reasons
The issue that we will address here is obviously connected with themes from con-
temporary discussions of the epistemology of perception. In fact, one of the best
ways to start is to consider the Sellarsian notion of the space of reasons:
The essential point is that in characterizing an episode or a state as that of knowing, we are
not giving an empirical description of that episode or state; we are placing it in the logical
space of reasons, of justifying and being able to justify what one says (Sellars 1997, p. 76).
What is required for something to be able to justify or give some reason for what
we say? What can be endorsed as a reason? Davidson’s coherentism, which, accord-
ing to Brandom (1997, p. 122f.), is based on the same insight as Sellars’, is clear on
this point: “[N]othing can count as a reason for holding a belief except another
belief” (Davidson 2001, p. 141). For instance, mere sensations or sense-data, which
have sometimes been regarded as a candidate for the foundation of empirical knowl-
1
We added “in the best case,” because there are also bad cases, in which the object actually does
not exist as it seems.
Husserl on Experience, Expression, and Reason 85
edge in empiricist tradition, cannot constitute any reasons for any beliefs because
“the relation between a sensation and a belief cannot be logical since sensations are
not beliefs or other propositional attitudes” (ibid., p. 143). The relation is at best a
causal one. However “a causal explanation of belief does not show how or why the
belief is justified” (ibid.). Sellars called such an idea that the non-conceptually given
could justify a belief “the Myth of the Given”: the idea that “the space of reasons,
the space of justifications or warrants, extends more widely than the conceptual
sphere” (McDowell 1996, p. 7). To avoid the Myth, we have to consider that any-
thing which has any justificatory significance is placed in the space of reasons.
Since only what is capable of being in logical relation to what one says can offer a
reason, whatever justifies it must have conceptual or propositional content.2 In
short, “the content of experience, if it is to have any epistemological significance,
must be propositional in form” (Williams 2001, p. 97).
A question now arises: do Husserl’s claims about “rational motivation” or “evi-
dence” commit him to a form of the Myth of the Given? He says that perceptual
givenness rationally motivates a sort of belief, or position; but how is this possible?
One may consider that it is not fair to pose such a problem for Husserl because the
givenness in question certainly is not like mere sensation, or sense-datum; rather,
the givenness here means the mode of content that Husserl also calls Sinn (sense):
But the posited characteristic has as its own a specific rational character, as a distinguish-
ing mark accruing to it essentially, if and only if it is a position on the basis of a fulfilled
originarily presentive sense and not merely on the basis of just any sense (Hua III/1,
p. 315/327; emphasis added).
Husserl emphasizes that our perceptual experience is not a mere complex of

sensations but rather a type of intentional experience and as such has its content or
sense, which is argued as having rational import (Hua III/1, p. 196/207). However,
we should pose a further question: is the sense in question the content of proposi-
tional form? Unfortunately, the answer should be, “no.” Can we then vindicate a
claim that not only can propositional content have justificatory power, but that non-
propositional content can have it as well? This seems to be a difficult way to pro-
ceed; any content of non-propositional form seems to be the same as mere sensation
in that it could not be in any logical relation to statements or beliefs. However,
granting that the content of sense perception, or perceptual sense, is not of proposi-
tional form, we must proceed in this way: but how? What we seek to render intelli-
gible below is that perceptual sense is originally not propositional in its form, but it
can be propositional without losing or adding anything to its presentational charac-
2
We will not address the questions about whether the content of experience is conceptual or non-
conceptual, or whether experience has content at all. Regarding the latter, we simply assume here
that experience has content, following Husserl. The former question is subtler. In our case, the
answer totally depends on what the “conceptual” means. At least, according to Husserl’s own
usage of “begrifflich (conceptual),” as we can see in this essay, he explicitly rejects the claim that
the content of experience is conceptual. He seems to use the term “Begriff (concept)” to mean the
content which (1) itself is a proposition, or (2) is a possible part of proposition.
86 S. Sato
ter. The process that makes this possible is what Husserl calls, in a somewhat pecu-
liar sense, “expression” in Ideas I.
3 The Concept of Expression in Ideas I
The key idea is found in what McIntyre and Smith (1982) call the expressibility
thesis, which Husserl makes in Ideas I. Here we shall cite the whole paragraph that
includes the thesis:
For example: an object is present to perception with a determined Sinn (sense), posited
monothetically in determined fullness. As is our normal custom after first seizing upon
something perceptually, we effect an explicating of the given and a relational positing
which unifies the parts or moments singled out — perhaps according to the schema, “This
is white.” This process does not require the minimum of “expression,” nor of expression in
the sense of verbal sound, nor of anything like a verbal signifying [...]. But if we have
“thought” or asserted, “This is white,” then a new stratum is co-present, unified with the
purely perceptually “meant as meant.” [...] Anything “meant as meant,” anything meant in
noematic sense (and, more particularly, as the noematic core) [...] pertaining to any act, no
matter which, is expressible by means of “Bedeuten (significations).” Quite universally we
may say: Logical Bedeutung (signification) is an expression (Hua III/1, p. 286/295;
“expressable” in translation is substituted for “expressible”]).
There are some points to note in this passage. First, Husserl obviously distin-
guishes the Sinn (sense) with which an object is given perceptually and the Bedeutung
(signification or meaning) by which the sense is said to be expressed. According to
Husserl, the latter is “co-present” when we assert or think that, for example, “This
is white”; by implication, the signification cannot simply be identified with the per-
ceptual sense.
Here we follow the convention that Husserl stipulates in the same section (Hua
III/1, p. 285/294): we use the term signification especially for any meaning that can
belong to a verbal expression, and the term sense is used for intentional content in
general. This amounts to stating that any signification is sense, but not vice versa;
for not all intentional experiences can perform the role of the bedeutungsverlei-
hender Akt (signifying act).3
Second, and far more importantly for the present discussion, Husserl here identi-
fies expression as the content that is properly called logical, by stating “Logical
3
Husserl’s terminology is rather ambiguous. This comes from mainly three reasons. (1) He calls
intentional content in general Sinn, (2) he does not see the necessity to distinguish Sinn from
Bedeutung, i.e., they are synonyms for him (cf. Hua XIX/1, p. 58f./200f.), (3) he identifies the
meaning of words and sentences, i.e. linguistic meaning, as the content of intentional experience
that is called bedeutungsverleihender Akt (signifying act). However, it does not follow from these
that all intentional content is of the same kind, of the same structure. As Husserl states in his later
work, if we call every intentional experience that can be the signifying act (meaning-conferring
act) Denken (thinking), the distinction would become clearer: to perceive something is not exactly
to think of it (cf. Hua XVII, p. 27/23). Hence, we cannot completely agree with McIntyre and
Smith’s (1982) interpretation of the expressibility thesis.
signification is an expression.” This means that the quintessence of what should be

called “expression” consists not in its being verbal, but in its signification that is
logical. Here, the notion of expression is essentially related with what is logical, and
thus the expressibility thesis is simply the claim that any content that is not yet logi-
cal can be formatted logically. Expression in this sense is thus “distinctive form
which allows for adapting to every ‘sense’ [...] and raises it to the realm of ‘Logos,’
of the conceptual and, on that account, the ‘universal’,” (Hua III/1, p. 286/295).
More simply, the essence of expression is Logos; expression is the expressive or
logical shape of the sense that is the object in how we experience it.4 How we expe-
rience or perceive an object is not the problem of logic as such, but it can be made
into the matter of logically organized science or knowledge in the form of expres-
sion (Hua III/1, p. 286/295).
What, then, makes content distinctively logical? The answer to this question is
arguably the same as that to the question: what makes content propositional? The
answer is categorial form. In contraposition, without any categorial form, content
cannot be propositional or logical. Categorial form is the form of the content that
can be expressed verbally by using categorial words, or categorials.5 In sum, cate-
gorials confer the propositional or logical form on the sense and thus express it.
Here, we will not investigate the details of this clearly relevant problem as it was
treated in the sixth investigation of Logical Investigations, i.e. the problem of cate-
gorial intuition. Instead, we will review the attempt to revise the sixth investigation,
its first chapter in particular, that was written in the same year of the publication of
Ideas I. This is helpful for understanding what the expressibility thesis states and,
thus, aid us in our present task.
First, Husserl interestingly acknowledges here that the sense or meaning of a
perceptual statement, i.e., the signification is contained already in the perceptual
experience that the statement intends to voice: “[I]t is undisputed that, in the percep-
tual judgment there holds an internal relation between perception and Bedeuten
(signifying) of the statement; far from it, the sense of the latter in a certain way ‘lies’
in the perception” (Hua XX/1, p. 70). It lies in the perception “if ‘unexplicated’,”
and it can be “herausholen (brought out)” (Hua XX/1, p. 71). What is important, of
course, is how to understand what it means to “bring out” the sense in experience.
Let us summarize the main points that he states. Perception has its own content, or
sense, that is how the object appears to us, or the object in how we experience it.
When we see something and express it by making a statement, its signification cer-
tainly has to anpassen (fit) the sense of perception. The required fit-ness, however,
cannot refer to an isomorphic, immediate correspondence, since the sense of experi-
ence and that of statement are not of the same form:
4
For the concept of noematic sense, see, e.g., Hua III/1, p. 303/314; Hua XX/1, p. 58f.
5
Besides copula, the examples Husserl provides include “the,” “a,” “some,” “many,” “few,” “two,”
“not,” “which,” “and,” “or,” “if,” “then,” “all,” “none,” “something,” and “nothing” (cf. Hua XIX/2,
p. 658/272, p. 667/278). For the sake of simplicity, we term both categorial words and their content
(correlate) categorials. We can generally ignore the difference of the verbal and content (significa-
tion), given the thesis: logical content is an expression.
88 S. Sato
[R]ather, it belongs to this fitness [...] that a sort of “thinking” is executed on the ground of
perceiving; in other words, the perception takes on a certain “Denkfassung (intellectual
form).” It cannot be expressed (verbally) qua a simple perception, it must undergo a sort of
denkmäßige Gestaltung (intellectual formation) in advance. Founded act-characters are
needed, which give the perception certain forms belonging to a certain system of forms
(Hua XX/1, p. 72).
To use the vocabulary proper to the original context of the sixth investigation,
specifically, regarding fulfillment of a statement, this amounts to saying that “in the
unity of intuitively fulfilled expression, the perceived has its ‘categorial shape,’ a
‘gedankliche (intellectual)’ shape as (noematic) correlate of formative thinking”
(ibid., p. 73). This point is really particularly suggestive for the expressibility thesis:
to express the percept by making a statement inevitably implies a sort of “intellec-
tual” process of explicating and conceptually grasping, the possibility of which
belongs to the essence of all perceptions. In essence, any sense of perception can be
expressible through the categorial formation. It is precisely this possibility which
justifies the claim that the sense of a perceptual statement already “lies in” the per-
ception itself:
Insofar as it belongs to the essence of every perception that it takes on such categorial
shape, i.e. it is explicable and “conceptually” graspable in the form prescribed by the per-
ception itself, the new sense [i.e., the sense of the perceptual statement] is contained in the
perception, and to that extent, as we say, somewhat incorrectly, the statement “is directed”
at the perception and expresses it; it is, in reality, the categorial product to which the state-
ment gives expression (ibid.)
Categorials (as words) are, as it were, the voice of the process of conscious activ-
ity that gives explicitly logical form to the perceptually given. Certainly, they do not
represent any perceptually given; rather, they express the way of our intellectually
taking it in. More simply, they are expressive devices of bringing out the sense of
perception in the sense that they make it possible to say or think of it explicitly and
logically.6
6
Of course, we should not ignore Husserl’s view that by making a statement, we are conscious of
a totally new kind of object, i.e. categorial object. However, this is not confused with the thought
that a statement represents a peculiar ready-made entity or object in the world. Rather, the catego-
rial object is originally constituted by the complex process of objectification. In short, representa-
tion should not be confused with objectification. Given Husserl’s concept of object, i.e., that to be
object is to be the subject of a statement (cf. e.g., Hua III/1, p. 15 [10], p. 47/41; Hua XX/1, p. 282),
the objectification whose product is the categorial object is possible by virtue of the expressive
operation that is called nominalization or substantiation. In general, we could tentatively say that
in making a perceptual statement, we are conscious of the new object only implicitly and, by nomi-
nalization or substantiation, we become conscious of the object explicitly (qua the subject of a
predicative judgment).
4 Husserlian Expressivism
Let us clarify the view that we endorse here by characterizing it as a sort of expres-
sivism.7 Expressivism, or expressive theory of certain vocabulary, is based on the
idea that the vocabulary in question is not (exclusively) used as the linguistic device
of representation; the vocabulary does not refer to, or describe anything in the
objective world. Specifically, the sentences in which the vocabulary is used do not
state any facts of the world. Instead, according to classical expressivism, the vocab-
ulary is used in another way that is generally characterized to be (merely) expressive
of something on the subjective side. As a metaethical theory, expressivists take it to
be expressive of emotions, moral sentiments, approving or disapproving attitudes,
prescriptions, and so on.8
However, what is more interesting here is Brandom’s (1994, 2000) expressive
conception of the logical vocabulary. In this theory, the basic logical vocabulary that
is epitomized by the conditional is understood as the device that makes what is
implicit in doing explicit by saying; it is used to say explicitly what is implicitly
known to us when we are engaging in the distinctively normative discursive prac-
tice — the game of asking and giving of reasons. The knowledge in question is a
sort of know-how, which is not reduced to know-that; rather, the latter is seen as the
expressive form of the former:
Logical vocabulary endows practitioners with the expressive power to make explicit as the
contents of claims just those implicit features of linguistic practice that confer semantic
contents on their utterances in the first place. Logic is the organ of semantic self-conscious-
ness (Brandom 1994, p. xix).
Although there are many interesting features in this type of expressivism, one
point to be noted here is that the contrast is not between the subjective side and the
objective side, but between what is explicit and implicit. The authentic users of the
vocabulary know implicitly what is expressed and it is made explicit by saying it
using the vocabulary. What is expressed is not represented by the vocabulary but is
instead made explicit. In other words, the know-how in question is translated into
the form of know-that.
In Husserl’s case, regarding the relevant themes here, he originally started from
the insight that categorials do not represent anything real, i.e., anything that can be
given by any possible sense perception. In this particular sense, they are something
super-sensible, or ideal, and the ideal cannot be real and vice versa. This is the
actual source of the problem of categorial intuition, i.e., the fulfillment of state-
ments in its entirety. Although Husserl does not explicitly say so, when he makes
7
Kadowaki (2002) seems to head in the same direction as our view. Regarding my own position, I
draw inspiration from Brandom’s works (1994, 2000, 2015). Although I cannot definitely establish
if my discussion here may be one that Kadowaki envisaged, his suggestion is worthy of being
explication. It is hoped that the present paper will be helpful in this regard.
8
See, e.g., Blackburn (1984, p. 167ff.) for the possible varieties of expressivism. Especially for the
expressivism on ethical terms, see Blackburn (2006).
90 S. Sato
some remarks on the concept of expression in Ideas I, his real concern is arguably
this problem.9 What we are suggesting is that this way of treating the problem, can
be broadly characterized as expressivist.
The point can be succinctly made as follows: categorials are not representational
devices or media, but they are expressive of the sense that is implicitly in percep-
tion. They have the specific function of bringing out the sense unexplicatedly lying
in experience, in the sense that they make it explicit in the form of propositional
content. Propositional content is distinctively logical and, as we saw, Husserl calls
such content expression in Ideas I. Thus, in this terminology, to express something
is to make the content that is not yet propositionally articulated into the content that
is propositionally articulated and, thus, logical. Indeed, we can find support for this
interpretation in another thesis that Husserl makes in Ideas I, immediately after the
expressibility thesis:
Apart from the fact that it confers expression on all other intentionalities, the stratum of
expression — and this makes up its own peculiarity — is not productive. Or, if one wishes:
its productivity, its noematic production, is exhausted in the expressing and with the form of
the conceptual which is introduced with <the expression> (Hua III/1, p. 287/296).
This may sound somewhat perplexing; one may well wonder whether introduc-
ing the “form of conceptual” could be a rather productive achievement, especially
since the sense of experience is yet to be logical. However, this is a quite intelligible
thesis from our perspective. Expression is not productive at all, because it does not
representationally add anything new to the content that is thus expressed. It merely
says explicitly what is implicit in the experience. More precisely, expression, cate-
gorials in particular, is the media expressive of the conscious activity of explication
and conceptual grasping that brings out or carves out the perceptual sense. Note that
this is not to espouse a kind of subjectivism according to which to say that things are
thus and so is to assert an existence of a certain attitude, belief in particular. The
statement “This is white” does not state that I believe that this is white, but simply
expresses what I now see. Moreover, to express what I see is not to take an attitude
to the object that I see; to repeat, expression only makes what I see explicit.
Accordingly, the belief character of expression is to keep track of the one of experi-
ence itself:
The expressive stratum can have no other qualified posited or neutral position than the
stratum subject to the expression, and in the coincidence we find not two positions which
are to be separated but only one position (Hua III/1, p. 287/297).
The claim that experience per se is a position, a sort of belief, is characteristic of

Husserl’s theory of perception. Our expressivist perspective can make it less diffi-
cult to see what it means: if the perceptual statements can be seen to be merely
expressive of the perceptual sense, specifically, if they do not assert the existence of
any subjective attitude, the positions certainly belonging to the statements should be
seen to be originate from the experiences themselves.
9
He suggests something like this in a footnote by mention of “[a] second way” that starts “from the
side of experience and sensuous givenness” (Hua III/1, p. 287/296).
5 The Concept of Reason: Husserlian Holism
From such an expressivist perspective, we can now see what kind of rationality
belongs to perceptual experience. We have been arguing that perceptual statements
are (mere) expressive forms of the sense of experience. This implies that what is so
expressed is already in the experience itself, except logical form; but logical form
itself is not of epistemic power relevant to perceptual confirmation, or fulfillment.
Certainly it makes the power available in a logical, consciously explicit form; on
balance, it is the authentic form of the move in the space of reasons. However, the
justificatory power or epistemic “weight” characteristic of a perceptual statement or
belief is not in its being logical, but in its being perceptual; in essence, exactly
because it is the expressive form of perceptual experience. Therefore, the power or
weight in question is to be found in experience itself. Thus, there is some sense to
say that when we see something red, for instance, what makes us reject the claim
that it is blue and endorse that it has a color, is the experience as such. In short, it
seems to follow from our interpretation that what is of power to reject or endorse a
claim is to be located in experience itself. This, obviously, is Husserl’s view.
Consider this view more closely. Perceptual experience, as a type of intuition, is
not discursive in a genuine sense, as McDowell (2009, p. 262) emphasizes and we
endorse. Experience as intuition is not the normal form that is used as a premise or
a conclusion of the discursive inference. However, as McDowell argues, this does
not imply that experience has no content at all; it has content and it is exploitable for
the discursive activity: “Intuitions immediately reveal things to be as they would be
claimed to be in claims that would be no more than a discursive exploitation of some
of the content of the intuitions” (p. 267). In a somewhat peculiar way, perceptual
experiences might be said to belong to “the logical space of reasons”: the space “of
justifying and being able to justify what one says.” However, it would be more pre-
cise to say that only the perceptual statements and the perceptual belief with propo-
sitional content can be available for the move of the logical space of reasons; for
only they have form that can be posed as a premise or a conclusion of some infer-
ence, and thus are called discursive and, undoubtedly, genuinely logical. If experi-
ence has a sort of rational significance or power, its rationality is not a discursive
one. There is a nondiscursive form of reason. Experience or intuition belongs to the
territory of Vernunft (reason), but it is not discursive or, in this sense, logical.
This may sound implausible, prima facie. For experiences to belong to the terri-
tory of reason, it should be capable of being controlled by other beliefs. However,
perceptual experience seems to be belief-independent, as Evans (1982, p. 123f.)
notes. Müller-Lyer’s illusion is here a case in point. One of the two lines appears to
be longer than the other (or the latter appears to shorter than the former); yet the
truth is that they are exactly equal in length. Even if we are acquainted with this kind
of phenomenon, and therefore believe from the start that the length of the two is
equal, they do not cease to appear to be as they were at first glance. The appearance
or content of perceptual awareness is not affected by what we know and thus believe.
However, from our perspective, it is quite reasonable that the experience contin-
ues to have a content immune to belief. If the content of the experience should be
92 S. Sato
modified, (part of) the content would be negated; however the negation cannot be
part of content of experience per se; it is typically categorial. In this case, when we
find that the two lines are actually equal in the length, what is negated is not (part
of) the content of experience but rather its epistemic power. By deprivation of the
power, the content is, in turn, marked as being misleading so that its content should
no longer be taken at face value, even if the appearance remains the same. Deprived
of the power, experience is demoted to mere illusion.10
This example also offers a clue to Husserl’s conception of reason.11 How can we
notice and confirm the equality of length? Simply, by using a ruler. However, why
do we believe that this can and should deny that the two are of different length at all?
Why should we believe so? Of course, one may answer, it is because the ruler is a
reliable device to measure the length of objects. That is true; to confirm the equality
implies to embrace such a belief. However, the question arises again: why do and
should we believe so? On balance, even such a simple confirmation requires so
many (implicit or tacit) beliefs: to confirm the length, we should also believe that the
ruler itself does not change its length easily, that there is no change to the lines writ-
ten on the paper, that my eyes function properly, and so on. Seen atomistically and
abstractly, any belief cannot offer a reason for deprivation of the power of any
beliefs. There must be further beliefs connected each other, and there is no clear
limit of required beliefs. More simply: the rationality of belief presupposes the
whole system of beliefs within which it finds a niche.
The consideration strongly suggests that what Husserl calls reason has to have a
distinctly holistic feature. Alternatively, we should say that the system in which
every belief is related to each other in ways of supporting, rejecting, suspending,
and so on, is called reason. Everything in this system has rational significance only
relational to the others that are located in the system. What we have been advocating
for, that is, that experiences, in addition to beliefs, have rational significance amounts
to saying that experiences also form part of this system, i.e., experiences and beliefs
together constitute the system, or reason. This implication is striking, especially in
the empirical sphere of knowledge. Husserl claims that in this field, there can be
nothing absolutely certain:
[N]o <rational positing> is equivalent in its singularization to the <positing> simpliciter:
“The physical thing is actual;” it is only equivalent to the positing: “it is actual” — assum-
10
Compare this with Sellars’ treatment of the logic of looks (1997, Chapter III.). The relevant point is
that the talk of “looks F” depends on the ability to see and say that something is F: one can say that it
looks as if x is F only if one can see and say that x is F in the sense that the former can be characterized
only indirectly as something that lacks the endorsement that is involved in the latter. Seeing the point
from a different angle, this means that we can eschew endorsement when we have some reasons for
doing so. This creates space for the claim that seeing is already involved in reason, since it is at our
disposal whether to receive appearance at face value. See also McDowell (1996: 11f.) for a related
discussion; he would reject the view that experience involves any kind of endorsement, though.
11
Although reason is one of the main themes in his thought, we can hardly find any clear state-
ments that elucidate what he means by that term. In Cartesian Meditations, we finally find one
brief account: “Reason is not accidental de facto ability, not a title for possible accidental matters
of fact, but rather a title for all-embracing essentially necessary structural form belonging to all
transcendental subjectivity” (Hua I, p. 92/57). What we have presented in this essay may be read
as an explication of this (all to) succinct description.
ing that the further course of experience does not bring forth “stronger rational motives”
which show the original positing as a positing to be “cancelled out” in the broader context.
(Hua III/1, p. 319/331)
Entering into or springing up in the system, each new experience brings its own
epistemic weight, and the reevaluation of the whole occurs. This is exactly why no
experience, no belief, can escape its possible deprivation. Sellars beautifully posited
the point: “[E]mpirical knowledge, like its sophisticated extension, science, is ratio-
nal, not because it has a foundation but because it is a self-constructing enterprise
which can put any claim in jeopardy, though not all at once” (Sellars 1997: 79).
If beliefs and experiences that belong to the system of reason can be of epistemic
power or weight only within the whole system, why should perceptual experience
be privileged? Why should intuitional experience in particular be emphasized? We
close this essay by addressing these questions briefly. We started this essay by
observing that what makes knowledge empirical is its relation to sense experience:
knowledge originates from sense experience. An alternative way of accounting for
this is to say that perception gives us the subject matter of our empirical knowledge,
i.e., the objects themselves. To explicate or to pin it down, and thus formulate what
and how it is, forms the beginning of the rational inquiry, which is actually the well-
organized whole of beliefs and experiences. If there is inherent incompleteness, and
perhaps even error in the beginning, the beginning must be given and the given must
be the beginning. If there could be no given, no subject matter, then any inquiry
would lose its intentionality, its of-ness, since there would be no object into which
the inquiry could be made. The holistic structure of reason implies only that we can-
not begin with nothing; it does not deny that there is the order or structure of ratio-
nal inquiry. In Husserl’s case, it is this that is enshrined in what he calls “the
principle of all principles”:
[E]very originary presentive intuition is a legitimizing source of Erkenntnis (cognition),
[...] everything originarily (so to speak, in its “personal” actuality) offered to us in “intu-
ition” is to be accepted simply as what it is presented as being, but also only within the
limits in which it is presented there. [...] Every statement which does no more than confer
expression on such data by simple explication and by means of significations precisely
conforming to them is [...] actually an absolute beginning called upon to serve as a founda-
tion, a principium in the genuine sense of the word (Hua III/1, p. 51/44).
As we have seen, the epistemic power or weight of intuition (in the empirical
field) could be deprived in further inquiry; thus, “absolute beginning” here is not to
be read as “absolutely certain foundation of knowledge” in the traditional founda-
tionalist sense. However, if there could be no intuition, then we would get no subject
matter of any inquiry; in this sense, intuition, or more precisely, its expressive or
logical form, is the absolute beginning. The object is given first and the object given
is allowed to increasingly show itself in the process of the rational inquiry: the
world manifests itself in reason.
94 S. Sato
References
Blackburn, Simon. 1984. Spreading the Word. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

———. 2006. Antirealist Expressivism and Quasi Realism. In The Oxford Handbook of Ethical
Theory, chap. 5, ed. D. Copp, 146–162. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Brandom, Robert B. 1994. Making It Explicit. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
———. 1997. Study guide. In Empiricism & the Philosophy of Mind, 119–181. Cambridge:
———. 2000. Articulating Reasons: An Introduction to Inferentialism. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press.
———. 2015. From Empiricism to Expressivism: Brandom Reads Sellars. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press.
Davidson, Donald. 2001. A Coherence Theory of Truth and Knowledge (1983). In Subjective,
Intersubjective, Objective, 137–153. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Evans, Gareth. 1982. The Varieties of Reference. Oxford: Clarendon Press/Oxford University
Press.
Kadowaki, Shunsuke. 2002. Phenomenology of the Space of Reasons (Riyuu no Kukan no
Genshougaku), Sobunsha.
McDowell, John. 1996. Mind and World. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
———. 2009. Avoiding the Myth of the Given. In Having the World in View, 256–272. Cambridge:
McIntyre, Ronald, and David Woodruff Smith. 1982. Husserl’s Identification of Meaning
and Noema. In Husserl, Intentionality, and Cognitive Science, ed. Hubert Dreyfus, 81–92.
Cambridge: The MIT Press.
Sellars, Wilfrid. 1997. Empiricism & the Philosophy of Mind. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press.
Williams, Michael. 2001. Problems of Knowledge: A Critical Introduction to Epistemology.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Cited Translations of Husserliana
Husserl, Edmund. 1969. Formal and Transcendental Logic. Trans. Dorion Cairns. Martinus
Nijhoff.
———. 1973. Cartesian Meditations. An Introduction to Phenomenology. Trans. Dorion Cairns.
Martinus Nijhoff.
———. 1983. Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to a Phenomenological Philosophy.
First Book. General Introduction to a Pure Phenomenology. Trans. F. Kersten. Martinus
Nijhoff.
———. 2001. Logical Investigations (in two volumes). Trans. J.N. Findlay. Routledge.
Shun Sato (Ph.D., Tohoku University) is a part-time lecturer at Yamagata Prefectural University

of Health Sciences. He is the author of Transcendental Philosophy and the Philosophy of World
Experience in Husserl (in Japanese, Tohoku University Press, 2015) and the articles focusing on
Husserl’s phenomenology of reason, his theory of perception, his idealism, and the systematic
relations between these topics.
Phantasieleib and the Method
of Phenomenological Qualitative Research
Yasuhiko Murakami
Abstract In the world of qualitative research, especially in nursing studies, phe-

nomenology is a powerful method to analyze the meanings of individual and con-
tingent experience. The concept of Phantasieleib (from Marc Richir) explains the
function of the phenomenological method when applied to empirical data. When the
Phantasieleib of the phenomenologist can enter into the movement of a certain nar-
rative, a kind of phenomenological reduction begins. This phenomenological analy-
sis reveals the composition of his/her practice within its inter-subjective and
institutional contexts. All aspects of the grammatical character of the narrative can
be a hint of comprehension of this composition.
Keywords Phenomenological qualitative research · Husserl · Richir ·

Phantasieleib · Narrative
1 Phenomenology of the Singular
Many researchers in varying domains of empirical research have become interested

in the phenomenology as a method of analysis.1 From 2003 to 2008, I conducted a
research project in a pediatric hospital to study autistic children with pediatric doc-
tors. In 2009, I was invited to a group of phenomenological nursing study and
started myself a field research among nurses since 2010. In these recent years, I
interviewed more than 40 nurses and conducted field research in a mental hospital,
with two teams of visiting nurses, as well as with practioners who work in the sec-
tion of child welfare in poor area. With the much appreciated help of Professor Yumi
Nishimura (Tokyo Metropolitan University), we developed a method of empirical
research based on observation and on interviews. Among the existing phenomeno-
logical methods in empirical studies (van Manen, Giorgi, etc.), the first original
1
French version of this text will be published in a volume edited by Pablo Posada at University of
Coimbra Press. Japanese version of the text is published as the appendix of Murakami (2013).
Y. Murakami (*)
Graduate School of Human Sciences, Osaka University, Suita, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_8
96 Y. Murakami
point of our method is the manner in which we respect the individuality of each
datum (each nurse, each interview, each research field, and so on.). It seems to us
that the strongest point of our method consists in the ability to show the detailed and
nuanced structure of each and every human’s experience. For example, I showed the
structure of the particular communication developped by a caregiver who is special-
ized in the care of (often locked-in) ALS patients (Murakami 2018). In this sense,
our method abandoned a part of the Husserlian idea of eidetic reduction, although
the spirit of our project remains sincere to Husserl’s intuitions.
Nevertheless our method is not merely “applied phenomenology,” but phenom-
enology itself. We do not merely apply Husserlian concepts – intentionality, inter-
subjectivity, passive synthesis, etc. – to understand nursing practices. We are
phenomenologists because we analyze the experience of nurses and patients from
the inside, and describe the structure of their experiences (although sometimes we
will write a paper without any philosophical concept). It is why we respect the
expressions used by our interviewees and try not to replace their words with philo-
sophical concepts that reduce particular experiences to a generalized understanding
(of course, sometimes we quote a philosophical text if it enables us to gain a better
understanding of the particular experience). “Describing phenomena from the
inside of their flow” is the most important feature of our research (and of Husserl’s
philosophy). In the following description of our method, we refer to Phantasieleib:
a concept of Marc Richir (1943–2015).2 Phantasieleib is a concept based on the
Husserlian Phantasie-ich, which means the ego functioning in the world of one’s
own imagination (Phantasie). We will here try to describe how powerful the phe-
nomenological method can work in empirical research.
In qualitative research, phenomenology tries to grasp the meaning of a singular
experience, which refuses quantitative understandings and disappears when we
compare plural data to extract something resembling common sense.
It is the implicit structure or configuration of each action that gives us a key. Each
human experience has its own structure and is worthy of analysis. In our research,
we independently analyze each interview as non-phenomenological text which
elaborates a theory of action in each of them. People have criticized us because a
singular case does not always have universal validity. Nevertheless, it is also true
that human experience is always singular and has its own meaning. A sociological
study, which describes the general character of multiple examples cannot show this
singular moment of our life.
Our method reverses the starting point. Each experience, each action and each
event has a meaning. And in spite of their singularity – or rather, because of it – the
very meaning of a singular moment is lost in a general concept. A singular case can-
not have scientific validity, but the structure of the case – the configuration of its
2
The Phantasieleib - inspired by Husserl’s Phantasie-ich (Husserl 1980) - is simultaneously the
center of the world of imagination and the starting point from which the flowing appearances of
imagination occur, “The Phantasieleib is nothing but, as “center of orientation”, that the zero-point
(Nullpunkt) taht is not a point or an element of space. It is the cell of spatialization from which
there is orientation” (Richir 2000, p. 137).
Phantasieleib and the Method of Phenomenological Qualitative Research 97
elements and context – has a certain meaning because others will understand it, and
because the structures of the several cases resonate with each other. On this level of
the structure of experience and of its meaning, our phenomenology of field research
achieves a certain universality – or more precisely, a certain understanding. The
very detail of each individual obtains scientific validity. It is a sort of micro-
phenomenology of human facticity.
Nevertheless, the phenomenology contributes not only to understanding the
details of the experiences of individual persons. Its uniqueness as a method is found
in one other aspect. This phenomenology discovers the configuration of details,
which characterize one’s narrative. If a motif becomes salient, it presupposes a
structure of experience behind it. The dynamism of motifs and their configuration
are nothing but the “meaning” of the singular in our phenomenological research. In
general, the interviewee is not aware of this configuration and it forms thus a sort of
phenomenological unconscious.
In other qualitative researches, this individuality is summed up into a general
character when various sets of data are considered. These types of research try, in
general, to understand a common character that reigns in almost all the available
data. They consider that this generalization of the individual is the best way to
achieve scientific universality. Contrary to these methods, our phenomenological
qualitative research tries to describe a singular structure of the singular experience
(of an individual) and to show the meaning and the value of this singularity. And the
meaning found in this singularity depends on the configuration of phenomena that
our analysis describes.
2 Method of Analysis – Noises, Signals, and Motifs
In the transcription of an interview, we can point out three phenomenological

dimensions of semantics; “motif,” “signal,” “noise.” The analysis starts with
repeated readings of the transcription. The repetition enables a deeper reactivation
of the data. We call the first layer of semantics the “motif.” The motifs become obvi-
ous in the first period of the analysis. The motifs are certain words and expressions
that particularize the narrative. These motifs often depend on the cultural context of
the interviewee, but at the same time also reflect some personal characteristics.
At the outset, the importance given to these motifs are not so clear. Very often
these motifs are popular words that are not necessarily relevant to the nurse’s prac-
tice. Furthermore, the interviewees use these words as imbued with their own per-
sonal meaning. When we grasp the configuration of the motifs, we discover the
veiled and personal meanings attributed to the words which go beyond the diction-
ary’s definition. The configuration of the motifs determines the meaning of each
motif and the narrative individualizes itself because of the singularity of the con-
figuration. It is why each analysis of interview has its own singularity that does not
necessarily correspond to the personality of the interviewee. Phenomenological
qualitative research insists on the singularity of each analysis instead of the
98 Y. Murakami
g enerality claimed in other scientific domains based on the statistics. But, this sin-
gularity is not that of the personality but of the configuration as result of the analy-
sis. Though, this singularity of the configuration reflects the experience of the
interviewee.
For example in the next quotation, a nurse who works in a unit of dialysis used
the verb “to be visible [mieru]” in place of “see [miru]” (“mieru” is the middle voice
of “miru”).
[Because the unit of dialysis is an open space, I] work in a place where everything the other
nurses do is visible [mieru]. The patients and everything my colleagues do can be seen
[mieru]. Because I work in an environment where what everyone, veteran nurses and new-
recruits alike, can be seen [mieru], I can pick up [steal, nusumu] good “care practices [Or
care, spoken in English]”, as well catch [steal a glance, peep upon, nusumimiru] examples
of care practices that are not so great.
In place of the verb “see” in its active voice, she uses the middle voice by expressing
the actions of her colleagues to “be visible” or “can be seen” The events in the unit
of dialysis are all visible and Ms. E is forced to see them. She is forced to observe
the practice of her colleagues and her vision is influenced by the rules of medical
institution because of this open space (it reminds us of Foucault’s Panopticon). The
values and rules are always in sight. And although this nurse tries to escape from
this political structure of the space she works in, which forces the disciplinary power
(Foucault). We can observe the tension between the political power that dominates
the unit and her wish to be human through the usage of the word “be visible [mieru].”
Besides important motifs, there are frequent words which catch one’s attention
although they do not have a clear meaning. Because these words do not have a clear
and determinate meaning, it becomes difficult to understand what is being said.
They do not explain any concrete practices, but they indicate the movement and the
configuration of the motifs. It is these words that suggest the global structure of the
narrative and of the practice. I propose we call them “signals.” Signals articulate the
configuration of motifs.
Ms. B [midwife]: Even a baby who is dying must experience his or her own birth, and even
a baby who already died in the mother’s womb must experience – in spite of this [yap-
pari] – the birth. Even if [yappari], he/she is already dead, nevertheless [yappari] I cannot
stay without addressing some words to the baby. Even if [yappari], he/she is dead, I address
a word for example [yappari] thinking “Come on!” in my heart. [...] But, what was different
at the moment of the birth, because he or she is, in fact, dead, so the baby does not cry. And
what was totally different was the tactile impression and the smell... I cannot find any word
to describe the moment of the birth. [...] Because [yappari] it was totally different.
This expert midwife repeated the word “yappari” when she talked about her most
traumatized experience of an aborted baby’s care. “Yappari” can mean anything
ranging from words such as “still,” “because,” “nevertheless,” “in spite of”, etc., and
thus does not mean any concrete thing in this scene. But, it indicates the dynamism
and the atmosphere of the situation. The repeated “yappari” means the great tension
felt by the midwife. She tries to care the aborted baby as if he/she was alive with an
enormous difficulty.
This effort to transform death into life determines the whole structure of her
practice. It is something like a perceptual phantasy (perceptive Phantasie)
(Husserliana XXIII, no. 12) but this perceptual phantasy requires a particular effort.
“Yappari” means the conflict between the perception and the imaginative world.
“Yappari” shows the dynamism of the practice that tries to realize the image of the
“life” of the dead baby. Thanks to the perceptual phantasy, the dead body of the
baby can be considered as the Leib (living body).
Here is another example. A nurse specialized in cancer uses three different
adverbs to describe the rhythm of her practice.
Ms. C: Before all, hmm, hmm, with a physical decline, the patients who were energetic
before gradually lose the capacity to do what they could do before.
Hmm, for example, there was a patient who went to buy everyday a bottle of tea outside
of his room. One day, he said, “Today, I feel this bottle is very heavy.” The weight of the
bottle was his first experience of his [physical] decline. And some days later, he said, “I
even dropped this.” Everyday, he made these kinds of reports. Before, he could buy a bottle
without pain. And then, he started to feel how heavy the bottle was. He felt the weight of his
legs as well, but it was rather that of bottle that was important for him. As time passed, he
became unable to go to buy tea by himself.
Someone who starts to discuss these experiences will always want to speak [about
death]. Yes, [I recognize this by] listening attentively [jikkuri jikkuri] to the patient.
And as they experience this daily loss of mobility, they can feel death approaching
rapidly [dondon dondon]. They’re afraid. There is a fear that gradually [dandan]
they cannot go about their daily lives, yes, but at the same time they are also afraid
of death. When they start to say, “I am gradually [dandan] losing my ability to do
what I once could,” many of them speak also of their own death.
“Dondon” refers to the precipitated rhythm with which the new events (radio-
therapy, chemo treatment and the death) come. It points out the temporality of the
external event. “Dandan” refers the temporality of the internal experience of the
gradual loss of daily life. “Jikkuri” refers the temporality of the act of listening by
the nurse that allows for the expression of “dondon” and “dandan” by the patient.
Three different temporalities are combined into one experience of medical practice,
and constitute the temporality of the palliative care. We can observe the articulation
of this practice in the use of onomatopoeia as it is related to the temporality of expe-
rience and, especially, to the bodies within their habitus.
In the interview, there are innumerable noises, which do not have meanings by
themselves and do not have any relation to the contents of the narrative. Discord
between the subject and the predication, a slip of the tongue, the silence, the repeti-
tion of certain words, the dialect, the flexion of the tonality, etc. A method of quali-
tative research such as GTA erases these noises. But in our approach, these noises
become key for an analysis, because the noises indicate very often the encounter of
heterogeneous and implicit contexts. Furthermore, noises indicate the configuration
of these contexts. Because of this, the noises in an interview teach us the whole (and
implicit) structure of the nurse’s practice – the “whole” structure that go beyond
nurse’s intentions.
100 Y. Murakami
For example, in case of the first quotation, the mix-up in the grammatical subject
between my utterance and hers, which we did not recognize in that moment, shows
her standpoint in practice. The structure of practice is totally explained by narra-
tive’s literal contents.
In the next quotation from the narrative of a visiting nurse, just after the appear-
ance of the grammatical subject “I, myself”, the interviewee implicitly replaces the
subject with another one (“my colleague” becomes the new grammatical subject)
and introduces another theme and the first subject comes back later.
• Ms. F: I, myself..., several times, [one of my colleagues] visited this patient [with
brain cancer]. But she [i.e., my colleague] cried a lot because [of the sympathy she
had for him and] she could do nothing. And she could not keep the cool mind that
she needed to care for this patient. That is why we discussed the matter and decided
that we had to change his primary nurse. It is why I replaced her, I replaced her. But,
perhaps, I, myself, do not do my work [as her]. I observed [this patient] with a
distance...
Between the two occurrences of “I, myself”, the nurse describes the practice of
one of her colleagues – this colleague resembles, in fact, the practices she operated
on when she was younger, but she ignores this fact in the interview. This means that
the inserted part describes the basis on which her actual practice has been formed.
At first glance, this sudden change in grammatical subject sounds strange and
appears to be a simple gap in her thinking, but in reality it explains the genetic struc-
ture of her practice. The distortion of the grammar corresponds to her actual ‘‘style’’
(Merleau-Ponty 1960) and the genetic structure of practice as nurse.
A nurse cannot clearly describe the interwoven, heterogeneous contexts that
have formed over experiences, and it is impossible to recognize their styles of prac-
tice that has been integrated into them. We can observe them only through the noises
that pop up during the otherwise smooth narrative. Ambiguous or contradictory
moments in a narrative are where the global configuration of an experience appears
in spite of the intention of the narrator.
This is why our attention to minor moments in the narrative is a necessary step
for detecting the global structure of the practice that goes beyond the subjective and
psychological impression of the nurse who explains it. Phenomenological research
based on narratives is not a psychological explanation of the narrative, nor is it a
description of the history of the narrator’s life. Phenomenological and qualitative
research tries to describe the conscious structure of the practice analyzing the con-
figuration of the various moments and contexts.3
In this context, the concept of “individuality” changes its meaning. This indi-
viduality is not necessarily that of the individual nurse who gives us an interview. It
is the structure of the practice that individualizes itself in the narrative or in the
whole research field, and can be somehow impersonal. In my actual research on the
network of practitioners who work in a poor area of Osaka, their collaboration indi-
vidualizes itself even if the style of each carer differs. This is our definition of factic-
ity, insofar as this structure is always singular and unique.
We can refer to « institution » in the late thought of Merleau-Ponty (2003).

3
I would like to summarize our discussion. In our research, we analyzed inter-

views with several nurses. Through the striking motives, we came to understand
important moments of their practice. An analysis of the insignificant signals showed
the configuration of motives that further shows the global structure of their practice.
Finally, these noises indicate the configuration of the complex, and even contradic-
tory, contexts imposed upon the nurse. Independent of the personality of the nurse,
individualization is achieved as a configuration of the practice face to the complex
and difficult situation composed of heterogeneous contexts.
3 A
n Intersubjective and Delayed Phenomenological
Reduction
As a conclusion, I would like to clarify our method in relation to the phenomeno-

logical reduction. Husserl’s phenomenological reduction is based on a reflection on
his own experiences. How can one demonstrate the validity of the knowledge of an
object, which transcends the immanence of consciousness? To reply to this ques-
tion, we have to reach the unquestionable evidence of the consciousness that an
apperception of an external object presupposes. Thus, Husserl started to examine
function of the consciousness that remains behind the external perception from an
internal standpoint. We have tried to apply a method of reduction that goes beyond
the theory of knowledge.
When I perform the reduction of the empirical perception of a cup in front of me
to the appearance, the individuality of “my” experience and the reality of the “exist-
ing” cup, are bracketed and the perception is transformed into the flowing of phe-
nomena. Even in this reduction that brackets the effective reality of an empirical
object and of the psychological ego, the fact that such and such a phenomenon
occurs in consciousness remains indubitable and evident (even when this perception
is revealed to be a hallucination). Even in the reduction, there remains the transcen-
dental subjectivity as the sphere of appearance. It is true that solitary reflection plays
a crucial role in Husserl’s argument, but it is not the reflection itself that guarantees
the truth of transcendental subjectivity. In Husserlian phenomenology, it is the evi-
dence of the appearance that guarantees its truth. Because the appearance obeys a
universal law, the phenomenological reduction discovers a universal and true struc-
ture. And we consider that even our qualitative research maintains the idea of the
evidence.
When we apply the phenomenological method to qualitative research, the phe-
nomenological reduction is no more a matter of solitary reflection. In place of soli-
tary reflection, the reduction occurs in an intersubjective and delayed manner.
Before clarifying the intersubjective character of this new reduction (it has nothing
to do with Husserl’s intersubjective reduction), I would like to add some remarks on
the empirical stage in our research before the reduction. The starting point of this
research is the interview and the observation. The narrative of a nurse is that of his
102 Y. Murakami
or her experience in medical practice. This narrative is based on the empirical reality
of their personal experience. In a narrative, the world of the practice is reconfigured
on the empirical stage.
When listening to nurses speak, I myself tend to sympathize with him or her. In
so far as I am engaged in the reality of their narrative and of the described experi-
ence as the interviewer, my attitude is also empirical and natural. This participation
in the empirical aspect of the nurse’s experience is important. Because of this par-
ticipation, I can reactivate this experience and I can verify the validity of my analy-
sis. At the same time, in listening to the story, I can try to find its global articulation
and also grasp some important motives, and thus try to understand the particularity
of this narrative in comparison to other interviews. In this sense, I also have a differ-
ent attitude.
The situation changes when I analyze the transcript of the recorded interview.
The interviewer now becomes the analyst. At the same time, the empirical stage of
the interview now becomes transcendental. When I re-live the nurse’s experience
reading the transcription, the described events lose their reality and personal indi-
viduality. These events are now captured purely in their movement as phenomena.
In the nachleben [re-living], of the analyst, the narrative shows a transcendental
structure of (anonymous) phenomena that do not correspond necessarily to the
empirical contents of the narrative. It becomes the transcendental constitution of the
world. There are two salient characters to this event. First, phenomena occur in an
intersubjective manner through the interview. Second, the transcendental stage
appears only when we read the transcript – that is, the transcendental occurs in a
delayed manner.
Transcendental subjectivity is the sphere wherein the flux of phenomena occurs.
In qualitative research based on interviews, transcendental subjectivity is nothing
but the movement captured through data wherein a nurse’s narrative and a research-
er’s eye have fused with one another. A narrative’s contents are simultaneously the
nurse’s concrete experiences as well as the phenomena filtered by analyst’s view
(who conducts the phenomenological reduction). Exactly speaking, analyzed expe-
rience belongs neither to the nurse nor to the analyst. It is, strangely enough, a
combination of the nurse’s perspective and of the analyst’s perspective. Phenomena
become intersubjective, or rather, anonymous.
Originated in individual and empirical experiences, the data mapped in the tran-
scendental configuration accomplishes a sort of universality or communicability.
We may claim its universality just as the traditional phenomenology has for reflec-
tion. Analyzing the transcript, the personality of the person who speaks is bracketed,
and several layers of phenomena are revealed. In place of the emotion of the nurse,
we are interested, for example, in their gestures the configuration of their bodies,
and the machines in the medical settings. In the midst of an interview, I sympathize
with the emotions of the nurse, but I do not feel these emotions when I analyze the
transcript, thus re-living his or her experience (I read it repeatedly and in place of
emotional moments, I gradually grasp the details that determine its configuration).
The personality of the nurse does not matter anymore. The methodological “re-
live (nachleben)” is distinguished from sympathy. The data becomes impersonal
and anonymous, and is thus reduced to the configuration of the multiple layers of
phenomena (motives, signals, noises). These moments are based on the narrative
and that the nurses articulate when discussing their experiences. But they are very
often outside of his or her consciousness, at least one part of their movements forms
a phenomenological unconscious.
In our analysis, the “I” of the phenomenologist locates himself or herself as a
video camera in the flux of the described phenomena. The “video camera” is, of
course, a metaphor. This camera grasps not only the perceptual appearances but also
all the possible (intuitive and not-intuitive) “movements” suggested in the narrative.
It is the incarnation of the Phantasieleib of phenomenologist into the movement of
the transcribed narrative. The Phantasieleib becomes a tool of analysis. It reveals
the articulation of phenomena unknown even to the nurse.
The re-living (nachleben) of the analyst is an incarnation with a distance. The
detachment suggested in the metaphor of the video camera leads to a certain emo-
tional and methodical distance of the analyst against the data (It is one of the effects
of the epoché of the reality and of the individuality of the person). A clear and
detailed observation requires, rather, an emotional detachment against data. Even if
the phenomenologist re-lives the “emotion” of the interviewee, this emotion
becomes a part of phenomena and it is used to analyze its articulation and configura-
tion of the whole phenomena’s movements.
The more we deepen our analysis, the more we become detached from the emo-
tional aspect (that corresponds to the position (Setzung) of the empirical reality in
the phenomenology), and the data becomes neutral and impersonal. The phenome-
nological reliving is opposed to the empirical sympathy. The role of video camera
(Phantasieleib of phenomenologist) or of the “phenomenological viewer” (Eugen
Fink) consists of bracketing the empirical reality of the data and of articulating the
movements of elements (motives, signals, noises) as such.
We have to read the same data many times. Without this rereading process, we
cannot recognize small motives, signals and noises. Very often, the important
moments are hidden and unmarked. Discovering hidden moments requires time –
there is a temporalization proper to phenomenological analysis in qualitative
research: it takes several months to analyze one interview. The crystallization of
motives has its own rhythm. What a nurse wanted to convey in his or her interview
is not necessarily what is important in the analysis. We need repeatedly read over
the interview to discover it.
These repeated readings are nothing but the process of phenomenological reduc-
tion. The more we repeat, the more we can bracket these empirical aspects. The
process of repeatedly reading through an interview is the temporality of the phe-
nomenological reduction. Thus, the configuration of phenomena that characterizes
each interview in its singularity. The repetition reveals the singularity of the con-
figuration of each practice. The more we read, the more data becomes structured
and individualized.
The video camera of phenomenological analysis – Phantasieleib of analyst –
functions anonymously and impersonally. The agent who conducts the phenomeno-
logical description is not the empirical ego of the analyst, but the anonymously
104 Y. Murakami
functioning video camera. When the personality of the nurse is bracketed (and the
data become a bundle of phenomena), the personality of the analyst is also brack-
eted. It is why a phenomenological description is somehow anonymous in spite of
the individuality of the data. Analyzed experience does not belong any more to one
particular individual (be it the nurse or the phenomenologist). It is one of the rea-
sons why phenomenological analyses of narratives can gain a sort of universality in
spite of the singularity of the result.
Contrary to Husserl’s presupposition, the described structure is not necessarily
an eidos. Furthermore, we always analyze a particular and singular experience of a
nurse irreducible to others’ experiences. With that said, because of the above men-
tioned methodological process, any analysis of an individual becomes impersonal.
But, we have to underline the fact that, even if the psychological individuality of a
nurse is bracketed, the singularity of the configuration of phenomena remains. The
singularity of an analyzed experience and the anonymity of the structure of this
experience are compatible.
Through the discovery of microelements, the hidden and anonymous structure of
a narrative is revealed. The noises occur when a gap among several contexts in one
narrative encounters each other. If we analyze this gap, we have to read the move-
ments of several and often contradictory social contexts which function behind the
nurse’s consciousness. The noises reveal thus the configuration of the phenomeno-
logical unconscious. In one narrative, the transcendental structure of an individual
and that of the social contexts play together. Thus, phenomenological qualitative
research discovers simultaneously the micro and global structure of human
experiences.
References
Husserl, E. 1980 (Hua XXIII). Phantasie, Bildbewußtsein, Erinnerung. Zur Phänomenologie

der anschaulichen Vergegenwärtigungen (1898~1925), Husserliana Band XXIII. Den Haag:
M. Nijhoff.
Merleau-Ponty, M. 1960. Signe. Paris: Gallimard.
———. 2003. Institution Passivité. Paris: Belin.
Murakami, Y. 2013. Tekiben to Ohanami – Phenomenology of Narratives on the Nursing (in
Japanese). Tokyo: Igakushoin.
Murakami, Y. 2018. Phenomenological Analysis of a Japanese Professional Caregiver Specialized
in Patients with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Neuroethics: 1–11: online. https://doi.
org/10.1007/s12152-018-9379-2.
Richir, M. 2000. Phénoménologie en esquisses. Grenoble: J. Millon.
Yasuhiko Murakami (Ph.D., Université de Paris 7) is Professor at Osaka University. He is author

of Lévinas phénoménologue (J. Millon, 2002), Affection of Contact and Transcendental Telepathy
in Schizophrenia and Autism (Phenomenology and Cognitive Sciences, 12(1):1–16 · March 2011),
and L’endroit à partir duquel quelqu’un m’appelle Dialogue avec une infirmière spécialisée en
soins palliatifs (in F. Bastiani, M. Saint-Jean, éd. Soin et fin de la vie – Pour une ethique de
l’accompagnement (2014), Paris: Seli Arslan) and Le soin infirmier dans l’hôpital psychiatrique
au Japon et la mise hors circuit de l’institution médicale (Revue Institutions. Vol. 55. 2015,
pp. 57–71).
Martin Heidegger and the Question
of Translation
Takashi Ikeda
Abstract Heidegger’s language was previously considered to be unique vocabu-

lary or jargon. However, the publication of the collected works of Heidegger allows
us to see in detail that he had acquired his ontological concepts largely by translating
ancient Greek concepts into German. My paper aims to clarify the role of translation
in Heidegger’s philosophy and to demonstrate the insights he has into the nature of
translation. First, I illustrate that translation is required as an essential procedure for
posing a question of meaning of Being in early Heidegger. The requirement for
translation can, I argue, only be understood in the context of the general question
concerning meaning Heidegger shared with his contemporaries. Second, I explore
Heidegger’s method of translation called “literal” or “true-to-word” translation in
his lectures from the 1940s, and show that his strategy in translation belongs to the
underestimated tradition of “word for word” translation in opposition to the domi-
nant ideal of “sense for sense” translation. I further argue that Heidegger’s true-to-
word translation is aimed to cause an existential shift for readers by making the most
self-evident in reader’s native language foreign and questionable, and to situate
readers in possibilities of thinking on the Grundwörter of Being.
Keywords Heidegger · Hermeneutics · History of being · Interpretation ·

Language · Meaning · Translation
1 Introduction
It used to be a typical reaction to Heidegger’s Being and Time as well as his later
writings that one of his greatest enterprises was to create a new and unique original
vocabulary, completely different from that of modern, epistemological, and
T. Ikeda (*)
School of Arts and Letters, Meiji University, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
e-mail: ikeda77@meiji.ac.jp

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_9
106 T. Ikeda
consciousness-based philosophies.1 Conversely, there have also been readers who

admit that his vocabulary is radically new, but still critically and negatively evaluate
this new vocabulary as “bombastic, indecipherable jargon.”2 However, since new
volumes of the collected works of Heidegger, including early lectures preceding the
publication of Being and Time, have become available, both reactions appear to be
pointless; it has become common knowledge among scholars that Heidegger had
acquired what was previously considered his unique vocabulary or jargon to a large
extent by translating ancient Greek concepts into German.3 Now, we must take a
more serious look at Heidegger’s endeavors in translation, e.g., his translations of
the Greek notion of αλήθεια into Unverborgenheit (Un-Concealment) in German
instead of simply adopting the standard translation such as Wahrheit (Truth). What
role does this kind of translation play for his philosophical thinking and in what way
is this thinking through translation acceptable?4 Heidegger appears once again as a
unique philosopher who presents his thoughts by interpreting old concepts in
unusual ways, rather than as a creator of completely new languages.5
My investigation aims to clarify the role of Heidegger’s labor of translation in his
strategy of philosophical thinking and to demonstrate the important insights
Heidegger has into the nature of translation by locating his discussion in the stan-
dard context of the philosophy of translation. Firstly, I will illustrate that translation
is required as an essential procedure for posing a question of meaning of ontological
concepts in early Heidegger. I will do this by examining Heidegger’s phenomeno-
logical and hermeneutic treatment of meaning and his way of performing transla-
tion in Being and Time, as well as lectures and articles preceding this work. The
requirement for translation can, I argue, only be understood in the context of the
general question concerning meaning Heidegger shared with his contemporaries
and his rejection of both Platonic and psychologistic understandings of meaning.
1
See Hans-Georg Gadamer’s retrospective comments on the impact of early Heidegger’s lectures
in his article “Heideggers’ theologische’ Jugendschrift,” Dilthey-Jahrbuch für Philosophie der
Geisteswissenschaften Bd. 6 (1989), p. 229. Also see Richard Rorty’s evaluation of Heidegger’s
later thought as “edifying” philosophy or hermeneutics in his Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979), p. 369.
2
This expression is used by George Steiner to describe the negative reaction of authors such as
T. W. Adorno and Günter Grass in his Martin Heidegger: With a New Introduction (originally
published in 1978; Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1991), p. 9.
3
See for example, Franco Volpi, “Being and Time: A ‘Translation’ of the Nicomachean Ethics?
(trans. J. Protevi)” in Theodore Kisiel and J. Van Buren (ed.) Reading Heidegger from the Start:
Essays in his Earliest Thought (New York: State University of New York Press, 1994).
4
For an important and influential work regarding the significant role of translation in Heidegger’s
philosophy, see Parvis Emad, “Thinking more deeply into the question of translation: Essential
translation and the unholding of language”. John Sallis, Das Ende der Übersetzung, in Günter
Figal und Hans-Helmuth Gander (ed.) Dimensionen der Hermeneutischen: Heidegger und
Gadamer (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2005).
5
In this paper I limit the scope of my considerations into Heidegger’s labor of translating ancient
Greek concepts into German. However, it is worth noting that the translations of Latin concepts
into German also takes on a significant role in Heidegger’s philosophy, as evident e.g., in the con-
cept of existence in Being and Time or temporality in the summer semester of Heidegger’s 1927
The Basic Problems of Phenomenology.
Martin Heidegger and the Question of Translation 107
Second, I will explore Heidegger’s unique method of translation called “literal” or

“true-to-word” translation in his lectures on Parmenides and Heraclitus from the
1940s, and show that his strategy in translation roughly belongs to the historically
underestimated tradition of “word for word” translation in opposition to the domi-
nant ideal of “sense for sense” translation. The latter, indeed, presupposes the
Platonic ideality of meaning. I will further argue that Heidegger’s most original and
important insight into the act of translation cannot be yet understood in terms of
semiotic notions. Heidegger’s labor of translation is aimed to cause an existential
shift for readers by making the most self-evident in reader’s native language foreign
and questionable, and to situate readers in possibilities of thinking on the fundamen-
tal words (Grundwörter) of Being.
2 T
ranslation in Early Heidegger: The Context
of Phenomenological Inquiry into Meaning
Let me start with some general considerations on translation. The word “transla-
tion” is normally used to indicate the translation of certain texts, sentences or words
in a foreign language into a mother language and vice versa. What happens in the
activity or event of such intralingual translations?6 From an etymological point of
view, it is often thought that translation is related to crossing over or transposition
in some manner; i.e., to translate something (etwas Übersetzen) means in its most
fundamental sense to transfer something from one place to another (es über einen
Abstand hinübersetzen).7
What is, then, specifically transferred beyond boundaries in translation? The
most popular answer is the meaning of words. According to this understanding,
translation is an event in which the meaning of words is transferred into other
words.8 Insofar as one follows such an understanding of translation and evaluates
the quality of certain translations—i.e., whether this translation is good or bad—one
tends to adopt such criterion: Whether the meaning of translated words coincide
with or correspond to the meaning of the original words?9
6
In this paper I follow Parvis Emad’s view that in Heidegger the intralingual translation holds “the
original and prominent status” over the interlingual translation and limit my discussion to the for-
mer type of translation. For Emad’s distinction of these two types of translation, see Frank Schalow,
“A Conversation with Parvis Emad on the Question of Translation in Heidegger,” in Frank Schalow
(ed.) Heidegger, Translation, and the Task of Thinking: Essays in Honor of Parvis Emad (Dordrecht:
Springer, 2011), p. 177.
7
See John Sallis, On Translation, p. 23. Sallis provides a similar argument in terms of the makeup
of the German word “Über-setzen” in his “Das Ende der Übersetung,” p. 12. As for the brief sketch
of the historical development of the French concept of “Traduction,” see Richard Kearney’s intro-
ductory explanation in his “Introduction: Ricoeur’s philosophy of translation,” in Paul Ricoeur: On
Translation with an intoroduction by Richard Kearney (London and New York: Routledge, 2006),
pp. xiii–xiv.
8
See John Sallis, “Das Ende der Übersetzung,“p. 12.
9
See John Sallis, “Das Ende der Übersetzung,“p. 13.
108 T. Ikeda
Insofar as such an understanding of translation is based on the concept of mean-

ing, the question of the nature of translation leads to the more fundamental question
of the philosophy of language: What is meaning? From the perspective of the phi-
losophy of language, it is not self-evident at all to assume that there should be the
same or identical meaning crossing over words in two languages which are different
in shape or sound.10 The ideal or platonic identity of meaning—one that is supposed
to be identical independently of each situation in which words and sentences are
uttered and used—was, as is often admitted, one of the most controversial topics in
contemporary philosophy since its emergence, in both the phenomenological and
analytical traditions.11
As Steven Crowell systematically discusses, the path of early Heideggerian phi-
losophy can be sketched in terms of his constant philosophical concern for meaning
shared with his contemporaries.12 From his early pre-habilitation writings, Heidegger
showed great interest in the problem of the ideality of meaning by referring to: e.g.,
Edmund Husserl’s phenomenological inquiry into the meaning of linguistic expres-
sions; Gottlob Frege’s Platonism of meaning; and Hermann Lotze’s concept of
validity.13 Heidegger rejected both Platonism and empirical psychologism and
rather attempted at performing “subjective logic” that should analyze our making
sense of something phenomenologically, i.e., as lived intentional experience.14 On
the path to publishing Being and Time, Heidegger further acquired hermeneutic
methods and developed a new way of approaching the meaning of philosophical
concepts as embedded within a historic context called the “hermeneutic situation”
into which inquirers are always and already thrown.
The central theme of ontology in Being and Time is none other than the meaning
of “Being.” Being is, according to Heidegger’s historical understanding, the very
concept, the meaning of which has been least questioned, and the question about the
meaning of Being has been long forgotten.15 Since Being, in its nature, is most con-
cealed, it is for Heidegger the most significant topic in phenomenological research,
the task of which should be to let something that conceals itself for everyday or
scientific views show itself explicitly. Heidegger overtakes Husserl’s idea that we
can experience not only the sensible but also the ideal entities by intuiting them.
Furthermore, Heidegger attempts to clarify the meaning of Being, which is sup-
posed to be the most universal and abstract, in terms of the phenomenology of the
10
This is impressively illustrated in Quine’s case of radical translation. See Willard Van Orman
Quine, Word and Object (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1960).
11
See Michael Dummet, Origins of Analytic Philosophy (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1993).
12
Steven Galt Crowell, Husserl, Heidegger and the Space of Meaning: Paths toward Transcendental
Phenomenology (Evanston: North Western University Press, 2001), p. 3.
13
Martin Heidegger, Neuere Forschung über Logik, in Frühe Schriften, GA1 (Frankfurt am Main:
Vittorio Klostermann, 1978).
14
Martin Heidegger, Die Kategorien- und Bedeutungslehre des Don Scotus, in Frühe Schriften,
GA1 (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1978), p. 404.
15
Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer), pp. 2–4.
most fundamental intentionality known as “understanding of Being

(Seinsverstehen).”16 Yet, in Heidegger’s own development of a “subjective logic,”
the emphasis is given on the point that “understanding” can be captured neither as
psychological inner experience nor as intuition of phenomenological conscious-
ness. This is because every understanding is pre-conditioned by the hermeneutic
situation.
The hermeneutic situation is a pre-condition for the possibility of questioning the
meaning of X. The purpose of Being and Time is to pose the question “what is
Being?” in opposition to the general tendency towards the oblivion of Being and
provide an answer to this question so that the meaning of Being will be grasped.
Already at the first step of posing a question, three factors that constitute the herme-
neutic situation must be presupposed: fore-having (Vorhabe), fore-sight (Vorsicht),
and fore-conception (Vorgriff). In order to pose a question about what is Being, one
has to already understand what Being is, even though this understanding is vague
(fore-conception). In addition, one must have the range of entities available one can
refer to in questioning the meaning of Being (fore-having), and finally one has to
have some prospects for ways of addressing the question (fore-sight).17 According
to Heidegger’s hermeneutics, the meaning of a certain concept cannot be considered
independently of the situation in which the interpreter already understands the con-
cept. The meaning of Being can be questioned only if it is posed by an interpreter
who has an insight into how the concept in question is used and understood in his or
her own historical situation. The inquiry into meaning is not pursued in the form of
a question about something a-historical or ideal. Rather, the inquiry into meaning is
renewed by Heidegger as inseparable from the question about the specific historic-
ity of the one who questions.
For Heidegger, I would argue, the activity of translation is the inevitable and
essential element of his hermeneutics, and may be even regarded as the focal point
that joins three descriptions of the analysis in Being and Time: ontology, phenome-
nology, and hermeneutics. Now let us recall the very beginning of Being and Time
by citing Frank Schalow’s illustration: “Following the citation from Plato’s Sophist
that echoes the perennial perplexity about the question of being, Heidegger asks:
“Do we have an answer to the question of what we actually mean by the word
‘being’?”18
Schalow’s intention is not to inform readers of how Heidegger’s major work
factually begins, but rather to indicate “the fundamental link between intralingual
translation and Heidegger’s strategy for formulating the question of being.”19 It is
16
For the relationship between Husserl’s categorical intuition and Heidegger’s understanding of
Being, see Jiro Watanabe, “Seinsverständnis, Aussage und Zeitlichkeit: Zum Problem bei Frege,
Husserl, Russell und Heidegger,” in Hubertus Busche, George Heffernan und Dieter Lohmar
(Hrsg.) Bewußtsein und Zeitlichkeit: Ein Problemschnitt durch die Philosophie der Neuzeit
(Würzburg: Königshausen und Neumann, 1990).
17
Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer), pp. 150–151, 157, 232.
18
Frank Schalow, “Attunement and Translation,” in Heidegger, Translation, and the Task of
Thinking: Essays in Honor of Parvis Emad, p. 293.
19
Ibid.
110 T. Ikeda
obvious that Heidegger first tries to prompt readers to inquire into the meaning of
Being in their own hermeneutic situation. He does this by arousing and repeating
the question of Being raised in ancient Greek thought at the beginning of Western
philosophy. Here translation takes an essential role in Heidegger’s strategic writing.
On the first page of Being and Time, Heidegger cites the original Greek text of Plato.
Some key questions of this text are subsequently translated into German. Readers
are then asked to overtake the same question in their own current situation.20 This
process of turning back to the original question is required insofar as the central
topic, Being, is conceived of as the phenomenon that has been forgotten in the
course of history and is today mostly concealed. Otherwise, there would be no clues
for two-hold tasks of Heidegger’s phenomenology: To make something unseen
explicitly seen, and to bring the concealing tendency of history of Western ontology
to its destruction.
It can also be seen that translation takes the unifying role of ontology, phenom-
enology, and hermeneutics precisely through Heidegger’s way of defining these
descriptions. As was already mentioned, Heidegger uniquely presents the concept
of phenomenon as the most concealed and Being as the phenomenon in its most
original sense. This is because Being is, in its nature, concealing itself; thus the task
of phenomenology is defined as letting this phenomenon show itself and oppose its
concealing tendency. This understanding of the link between phenomenology and
ontology is acquired by means of translating the Greek word φαινόμενon into a
phrase along the lines of “something showing itself.”21 Further, Heidegger intro-
duces hermeneutics as the method of phenomenology in that he characterizes “the
λόγος of phenomenology” as “έρμηνεύειν.”22 This characterization is based on his
interpretation of λόγος as “talk” that can mean both discovering and concealing, or
true and false. It is worth noting that Heidegger describes his interpretation of this
Greek word as “literal translation” and refuses to take for granted that “λόγος is
‘translated,’ i.e., is always interpreted as reason, judgment, concept, definition,
ground, or proportion.”23 Doubtlessly, the way of translating basic Greek words into
German, works as a criterion for doing genuine or false philosophy.
Most discussions of the role of translation in Heidegger’s thinking are focused on
lectures and writings completed after the 1940s. Herein, as we will see in the next
section, Heidegger explicitly takes translation as a topic of the task of thinking.
However, as we saw above, Heidegger already expresses his stance on the activity
of translation in Being and Time by taking “literal translation” in a positive way.
From his early work, he also speaks of translation as a kind of interpretation. This
may not be unexpected when we consider that what he calls literal translation is, in
fact, rather unusual. In the lecture course of the summer semester of 1922, shortly
before the so-called “Natorp-report” that is the first substantive draft of Being and
Time, Heidegger engaged in translation and interpretation of Aristotle’s
20
Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, p. 1.
21
Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, pp. 28–29, 35–36.
22
23
Metaphysics, Physics and other works. At the beginning of this lecture, he states his
belief in the task of translation, namely, that it is necessary to have learned Greek
and German to understand the classic works, but it is not sufficient. Linguistic pro-
ficiency will contribute to understanding issues only if it “obtains its direction from
[the] hermeneutic situation.” Insofar as one tries to be true to the issues discussed in
the Greek works, “every translation is already certain interpretation.”24
Heidegger is consistent in this seemingly contradictory stance towards transla-
tion: he prefers to call his own translation literal, whilst maintaining that every
translation is already an interpretation. Sofar, it has been shown that translation is
one of the essential parts of Heidegger’s thinking, but the problem that now arises is
what Heidegger has in mind when he speaks of translation as interpretation. What
can it mean for “literal translation” to involve factors of interpretation on the side of
interpreters?
3 T
ranslation in the Later Heidegger: What Is Literal
Translation as Interpretation?
In his lectures from the winter semester of 1942–1943 Parmenides and Heraclitus
and the summer semester of 1943 The Beginning of Western Thinking: Heraclitus,
Heidegger considers his own translation as a kind of “literal (wörtliche) translation”
more explicitly and elaborately than in Being and Time. He takes the Greek word
αλήθεια as an example, and names it “what one always ‘translates’ as truth” and
presents his own translation, namely, Un-concealment, which he calls the “‘literal
translation’” of this word.25
Needless to say literal translation, or, put another way, a “word for word” transla-
tion is not popular among translators and is often rejected in favor of “sense for
sense” or readable translation. This negativity towards literal translation has a long
tradition. As a typical historical example, Cicero’s comment on the task of transla-
tion in The Best Kind of Orator (De Optimo Genere Oratorum) may be used; herein
Cicero admittedly takes precedence of thought over figures of thought i.e., words
and says: “I did not hold it necessary to render word for word, but I preserved the
general style and force of the language. For I did not think I ought to count them out
to the reader like coins, but to pay them by weight, as it were.”26
The idea of “sense for sense” or “not by coins, but by weight” as a translation
prevails and seems to be harmless. Nevertheless, there are problems inherent in such
forms of translation. In his Truth and Method, Hans-Georg Gadamer suggests that
such a translation inevitably includes the character of over-highlighting
24
Martin Heidegger, Phenomenological interpretation of selected papers of Aristotle’s ontology
and logic, GA62 (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2005), p. 6.
25
Martin Heidegger, Parmenides, GA54 (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1992), p. 16.
26
Marcus Tullius Cicero, The Best Kind of Orator, in (trans. H. M. Hubbell) De Inventione: De
Optimo Genere Oratorum (Cambridge, MA/ London: Harvard University Press), p. 365.
112 T. Ikeda
(Überhellung).27 Translators must not leave any word open, even though some parts
are unclear to them; their translation must be less ambiguous and more articulate
than the original text. For this task, translators have to emphasize some features of
the text on the one hand while also attaching little importance to other features on
the other hand. In every attempt at achieving the best “sense for sense” translation,
there is a tendency to over-highlight.
I took Gadamer’s notion of over-highlighting as an example among other expla-
nations of difficulties of “sense for sense” translation,28 to draw attention to the fact
that Heidegger used this notion in his Natorp-Report that greatly influenced the
younger Gadamer. Shortly before starting with his interpretation of the 6th book of
Nicomachean Ethics, Heidegger provides some introductory explanation on what it
means to interpret Aristotle. Heidegger claims that “every interpretation must over-
highlight its thematic object in accordance with its position and direction of looking
(Blickstand und Blickrichtung).”29 He then describes “withdrawal of over-
highlighting”30 as one condition for the possibility that the object (the text of
Aristotle in this example) will be addressed appropriately. It is suggested that
Heidegger was aware of the danger of over-highlighting in the “sense for sense”
translation as he dares to shed positive light on “literal translation.”
What, then, is literal or “word for word” translation, and why is it often regarded
as more problematic? In the summer lecture of 1943, Heidegger distinguishes “mere
literal translation” from what he considers to be a genuine type of literal translation
called “true-to-words (wortgetreu) translation.”31 As the most typical example of a
“mere” literal translation, we may think of “dictionary-based” translation, wherein
one seeks for the equivalent word to the original word in dictionaries. The ideal of
this sense of literal translation is seen today in a large number of automatic, machine
translations on the Internet. It is as if Heidegger had anticipated the future develop-
ment of technology, having already referred to the “translation machine
(Übersetzungsmaschine)” as a manifestation of “modern logical interpretation of
thinking and discourse”32 in the lecture course The Principle of Reason held in the
winter semester of 1954–1955. In Heidegger’s view, such machines are able to
translate business documents, but this is not the case with poetry. This limitation of
the capability of a translation machine is, in its basic understanding not far from
Friedrich Schleiermacher’s distinction between translator (Übersetzer) and inter-
27
Hans-Georg Gadamer, Wahrheit und Methode (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1990, originally pub-
lished in 1960), pp. 389–390.
28
Antoine Berman analyzes many varieties of “distorting tendencies” involved in the act of transla-
tion such as clarification, expansion, and qualitative or quantitative impoverishment. See, his La
Traduction et la lettre, ou L’auberge du lointain (Paris: Seuil, 1999).
29
Martin Heidegger, Phänomenologische Interpretationen zu Aristoteles (Anzeige der herme-
neutischen Situation), in GA62 (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2005), p. 372.
30
ibid.
31
Martin Heidegger, Heraklit, GA55 (Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1979), p. 44.
32
Martin Heidegger, Der Satz vom Grund, GA10(Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1997),
p. 145.
preter (Dolmetscher).33 According to him, the former is suitable to science, art, and
literature, whilst the latter is suitable for the business world. The common feature of
both translation machines and business interpreters share is that they are in charge
of strictly neutral transmission of information that must be free from any subjective
interpretation. Significantly, the ideal of neutral transmission not only has a long
tradition from universal language, from the Enlightenment to bilingualism in the
age of globalization. It also clearly reflects the idea of the ideality of meaning that
Heidegger rejects (as we saw in the first section). The literal translation in the sense
of dictionary-based transmission of information is problematic, not solely because
it seems to lack some necessary labor on the side of translators, but also and more
fundamentally because it depends on the Platonic ideal of unchangeable meaning
and hence shares the ontological presupposition on the nature of meaning with
those who support “sense for sense” translation.
What is, then, the genuine kind of literal translation Heidegger calls “true-to-
word translation” like? For engaging in this task, one has to adopt an alternative
method that avoids the danger of over-highlighting as well as the thoughtless substi-
tution of words one finds in dictionaries. Heidegger calls the unique method of the
true-to-word translation replication (Nachbildung).34 The act of replication is never
performed in “sense for sense” or dictionary-based translation. Replication in
Heidegger’s sense is not meant psychologically, say, as a translator’s re-experience
of a creative act originally performed by the author.35 Rather, replication in
Heidegger’s sense is more “syntactic,” as it were. The replication or “‘literal’
replacement”36 refers to the procedure for translation, the typical example of which
is to make a German word Un-verborgenheit out of two elements of the negative
pre-fix un- and verborgen(heit) as faithfully as possible to the makeup of original
Greek word of αλήθεια, consisting of the negative pre-fix α-, and the conjugation of
λήθε. For this literal replacement it is necessary at the first stage to resolve the word
in question into its components, i.e., that are not conceived to be the standard unit
suitable for a dictionary index.
The philosophically significant point indicated in the procedure of true-to-word
translation is that thought and the figure of thought, or put differently, meaning and
the letter of a word, are not separable in language, and that the meaning of words
cannot be extracted from the flesh of words. This point is opposed to the naive belief
in such extraction on the side of opponents of literal translation. For those who fol-
low the traditional view of “sense for sense” translation, this line of thinking,
wherein such a thing as equivalence of meaning is clearly abandoned, may appear
odd. However, there is an alternative tradition, though not popular among profes-
33
Friedrich D. E. Schleiermacher, “Über die verschiedenen Methoden des Übersetzens,” in Hans
Joachism Störig (hrsg.) Das Problem des Übersetzens (Stuttgart: Henry Goverts, 1963), p. 65.
34
Martin Heidegger, Parmenides, p. 16.
35
According to Gadamer, Schleiermacher’s notion of re-experience of original creative acts is one
of the evidences that his hermeneutics has a psychological aspect. See, Gadamer, Wahrheit und
Methode, p. 191.
36
114 T. Ikeda
sional translators, of thinkers who support the inseparability thesis of meaning and
letter. Heidegger is not alone in this way of understanding language, as Paul Ricoeur
names Hölderlin, Paul Celan, and Henri Meschonicc as model figures that fought a
“campaign against the isolated meaning”37 in his On Translation. Although Ricoeur
does not mention Heidegger in this context, it seems safe to say that Heidegger
belongs to this alternative tradition, once one takes his well-known sympathy with
Hölderlin and Celan into account. Ricoeur even thinks that those who deny the
inseparability thesis of meaning are restrained by old prejudices. According to him,
“the vast majority of translators rush to oppose this [i.e., giving up the comfortable
shelter of the equivalence of meaning], without recognizing an achievement of con-
temporary semiotics, the unity of meaning and sound, of the signified and the signi-
fier (…).”38
It is, however, questionable as to whether one could understand the enterprise of
the above-mentioned figures from a semiotic point of view. For Saussurean signs
are constituents of an abstract system that is completely separate from the historical
world, including other languages, and hence it seems impossible to deal with the act
of translation in this theoretical framework.39 In fact, Heidegger stated in his winter
1942–1943 lecture that translation certainly begins with the replication of the origi-
nal word, but that this procedure is merely the beginning: “Solely by replacing the
Greek αλήθεια into the German Un-verborgenheit, we have not translated the word
yet.”40 Rather, such replication of the word is considered to be senseless without
“effort to contemplate on the forgetfulness (λήθε) that should refer back to
αλήθεια.”41 What is, then, contemplation in the act of translation, and how does it
work? Heidegger captures this specific kind of contemplation with recourse to the
literal meaning of translate (übersetzen), as follows:
The word αλήθεια will have been completely translated, firstly when the translated word
(Un-concealment) transfers us into the sphere and the way of experiences, in which the
Greeks, in this case, Parmenides, the thinker at the beginning, says the word αλήθεια.42
As we have seen before, the typical answer to the question as to what will be trans-
ferred from one place to another in translation, is meaning. Heidegger’s answer is
“us” i.e., Heidegger himself and students, put more generally, the translator and her
readers. The translation will be completed if those involved are transferred by the
37
Paul Ricoeur, On Translation, p.38.
38
ibid.
39
See Émile Benveniste’s critical comments on Saussure’s attempt at general linguistics in his
Problems in General Linguistics (London: Faber and Faber, 1973, translated by Elizabeth Palmer).
Some readers of Heidegger also reject interpreting Heidegger’s praxis of translation in terms of
specific linguistic theories. See the conversation between Parvis Emad and Frank Schalow “A
Conversation with Parvis Emad on the Question of Translation.”
40
41
Ibid.
42
Ibid. “Dazu kommt es erst dann, wenn das übersetzte Wort »Unverborgenheit« uns übersetzt in
den Erfarungsbereich und die Erfarungsart, aus dem das Griechentum und im jetztigen Fall der
anfängliche Denker Parmenides das Wort αλήθεια sagt.”
original word into the sphere and way of experiences in which the original word is
used. Characteristically, Heidegger thinks that translation requires some kind of
existential modification or change on the side of translators and readers as historical
beings, and hence his understanding of the act of translation is far from a picture of
neutral transmission of information.
How can translators and readers be transferred into the situation wherein the
Greeks spoke those original words? In the tradition of hermeneutics, the “transpor-
tation” required for understanding the meaning of a text is sometimes considered as
something that happens in an interpreter’s empathy for the original author, as is
suggested in Wilhelm Dilthey’s descriptive psychology.43 Although the nature of
empathy is still fiercely discussed, it is an accepted view that in theories of empathy,
it is assumed that one can know only one’s own mental states in a direct manner and
that one can know other minds only by reproducing their own mental states and
projecting them into other minds.44 If we apply this model of empathic understand-
ing to the case of translation we can then imagine a German translator, as
Schleiermacher illustrated, who says to his readers: “I bring you the book that this
foreign person would have written, if he had written in German.”45 For
Schleiermacher, who thinks of psychological interpretation such as imaginative
self-transportation into the perspective of other persons as merely one aspect of the
interpretive method of historians, the work of translation by such a translator is not
genuine. As Antoine Berman points out, this notion of self-transportation denies
“the profound relation that connects the author to his own language.”46 Insofar as the
central element of authorship is lost, translation based on self-transportation cannot
be considered genuine.
In the above citation, Heidegger provides another, non-psychological way of
understanding the transportation of translator into the situation of the original
authors. What transfers us into the original situation of experiences is not us, but the
word. According to Heidegger, the appropriate relatedness to the word is, as a natu-
ral consequence of the view that we are not subjects of transportation, receptive
rather than self-centered as contrasted with reproduction of what I would think if I
were in author’s situation. Heidegger defines this receptive relationship towards the
word as “hearing (Hören).”47 By attentively hearing the word, or more exactly, hear-
43
See for example, William Dilthey, “Beiträge zum Studium der Individualität,” in Die geistige
Welt: Einleitung in die Philosophie des Lebens, Gesammelte Schriften Bd. 5 (Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht).
44
For the general view of contemporary discussion on empathy, Karsten Stueber, Rediscovering
Empathy: Agency, Folk Psychology, and the Human Science (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press,
2006). For criticism of projectionist view of other minds from phenomenological perspective, see
Chapter 9 of Shaun Gallagher and Dan Zahavi, The Phenomenological Mind: An Introduction into
Philosophy of Mind and Cognitive Sciences (New York: Routledge, 2008).
45
Schleiermacher, “Über die verschiedenen Methoden des Übersetzens” p. 65.
46
Antoine Berman, The Experience of the Foreign: Culture and Translation in Romantic Germany
(trans. S. Heyvaert; New York: State University of New York Press, 1992), p. 147.
47
116 T. Ikeda
ing “what words are actually saying,”48 our transportation into the original situation
occurs. This hearing is considered a kind of thinking rather than a physical act of
auditory sense. As we have seen, Heidegger views mere replication of the original
word as only the beginning of translation. After true-to-word replication of the word
αλήθεια, we will face the fact that we cannot understand what the translated word
of Un-concealment means, even though this translated word is no longer foreign.
Through experiencing the incomprehensibility or the strangeness of the word in
one’s mother language, there is a chance for translation to become thinking, while
simple repetition of the standard translation or dictionary-based translation tends to
stop working after the original foreign word has been replaced by the word in one’s
mother language.
Translation, as a matter of hearing thinking, is not reducible to mere etymologi-
cal research of familiar words. The decisive point of this thinking is rather that not
only the words in familiar language, but also the co-existence of we, the translators
and readers; i.e., those who share the same mother language, become questionable
and thus worth questioning. In other words, Heidegger’s translation is not simply
intended to translate the old Greek word into contemporary, familiar German, but
also or even in the first sense, to reverse translate the familiar German theoretical
concepts such as truth or reason into the foreign, ancient Greek, in order to make the
seemingly most self-evident doubtful. We have seen this distinctive strategy at play
from the beginning of Being and Time. Heidegger does not intend to justify the use
of philosophical concepts he and others have learned and grown familiar with by
pointing out their etymological origins. Instead, reverse-translation deprives such
concepts of their validity and evokes critical thinking or contemplation about what
fundamental words actually say. According to a lecture in The Principle of Reason,
what is happening in the labor of genuine translation is the “shift from the familiar
tonality of a sentence to its unfamiliar tonality” and this “leap remains a free pos-
sibility of thinking.”49
We can now understand the reason Heidegger repeats the thesis that every trans-
lation is certain interpretation. In his summer lecture of 1943–1944, Heidegger
states: “The translation provided here already includes interpretation of the text.
And this interpretation needs explication (Erläuterung).”50 In this lecture, an inter-
pretation of Parmenides’ fragments is performed through what Heidegger calls
explication followed by preceding replication of the original words. For interpreting
the text, it is necessary to explicate the referential-network of words in which the
word in question acquires its most fundamental sense, i.e., the situation in which we
are able to hear what this word actually says. Forgetfulness (λήθε) is, for example,
the most essential word among words located in the referential-network within
which what the word αλήθεια says can be genuinely heard. So, as we have already
seen, for Heidegger, replication of the word is senseless without an “effort to con-
template on the forgetfulness (λήθε) that should refer back to αλήθεια.” The effort
48
ibid.
49
Martin Heidegger, Der Satz vom Grund, p. 139.
50
Martin Heidegger, Parmenides, pp. 4, 12.
of explication Heidegger engages in is beyond what we normally imagine to be the

task of translators. Heidegger tries to explicate the conflict among λήθε and αλήθεια
not only by examining Parmenides’ text, but also by first investigating Homer’s
usage of these words and then tracing a historical shift of meaning of these original
words in their Latin and German translations. In short, Heidegger’s effort for trans-
lation is directed at nothing other than opening up a situation in which we are ori-
ented historically in order to think on and within the History of Being
(seinsgeschichtlich denken). Heidegger especially emphasized this link between the
labor of translation and historical thinking in the middle of the 1940s, as he concen-
trated on having a “conversation” with pre-Socratic thinkers. However, in my view,
this link was never broken: the young Heidegger began to be engaged in both trans-
lation and interpretation of Aristotle’s works in 1923, as Gadamer suggests in his
personal recollection of attendance at early Heidegger’s lecture, stating that it was
“as if Aristotle came up in front of us and actually started to talk to us.”51
For those who have faith in “sense for sense” translation and try to recreate the
message of the whole text, Heidegger’s true-to-word translation may seem to under-
estimate the holistic character of language. This may seem to be the case because he
concentrates on explicating particular words in a text. However, this impression is
pointless if one misunderstands Heidegger’s treatment of a word in the sense of an
automatic replacement of single words without any contextualization, as in the case
of dictionary-based translation. Heidegger’s aim is rather to open up a historic situ-
ation, in the context of which we are firstly able to let original words say what they,
in fact, say. Here, I would suggest paying attention to Ricoeur’s discussion on the
relationship between text, sentence, and words in order to avoid possibly confusing
Heidegger’s translation with dictionary-based translation. Ricoeur summarizes the
general agreement between translators: “Translators know it perfectly well: it is
text, not sentences, not words, that our texts try to translate. And texts in turn are
part of cultural groups through which different visions of the world are expressed.”52
The first task of translators will then be to gain access to a cultural way of world-
experience that is not familiar to them. This task may include such preparative steps
as having respect for foreign culture and language, learning foreign languages, and
giving up ethnocentric views of one’s own language, all of which Ricouer describes
as instances of linguistic hospitality.53 We may roughly identify what Heidegger
calls “the sphere and the way of experiences of the Greek” with Ricoeur’s cultural
background in which different world-views are expressed, and we can safely to say
that all steps involved in linguistic hospitality are included in Heidegger’s require-
ments for genuine translation, as we have seen thus far. In this respect, Heidegger
also starts with the context in which the text in question is placed. More signifi-
cantly, Ricouer further points out that the biggest difficulty in translation emerges at
the level of words:
51
Hans-Georg Gadamer, “Heideggers’ theologische’ Jugendschrift” p. 228.
52
Paul Ricoeur, On Translation, p.31.
53
See the introduction to Paul Ricoeur, Le Juste 2 (Paris: Esprit, 2001); Also, Paul Ricoeur, On
Translation, p.10.
118 T. Ikeda
The work of the translator does not move from the word to the sentence, to the text, to the
cultural group, but conversely: absorbing vast interpretations of the spirit of a culture, the
translator comes down again from the text, to the sentence and to the word. The final act, if
one can put it that way, the final decision is about making out a glossary at the level of
words: the selection of the glossary is the final test where what should be impossible to
translate is crystallized as it were in fine.54
In my view, this final stage of translation, in which “what should be impossible to

translate is crystalized” is, in fact, the starting point of Heidegger’s labor of transla-
tion. Any choice of words among candidates, whether reason or judgment is adopted
as the final translation for λόγος, will leave the realm of the unsaid of the original
word. This situation will not be overcome by any redetermination based on the
translator’s speculation on messages of text, which will again leave the new realm
of the unsaid. Avoiding both automatic dictionary-based translation and subjective
over-highlighting translation, Heidegger thereby starts with more “material” or
“syntactical” translation; i.e., replication of the word that should let readers feel
foreign with respect to the translated word, thus alerting them to the fact that trans-
lation or interpretation of the fundamental word has been not completed. Following
replication of words, explication of the referential-network in which the original
word can be initially heard will continue. Through this contemplation or thinking,
readers should be able to orient themselves in the history of Being and transfer
themselves into the sphere of original experiences. In this process, readers are taken
to the first stage of translation as described by Ricouer, though their relationship
with the fundamental word has again been changed. What Heidegger achieves in his
contemplative translation is, in short, a transferring of readers into situations in
which they will be able to translate the original fundamental words i.e., think in the
middle of history of Being by themselves.
Heidegger’s hermeneutic analysis of linguistic meaning shows that a philosophical

understanding of fundamental concepts should never be identified with the mere
acquisition of new information. When one has succeeded in capturing what X is,
one has not experienced a shift from being ignorant of X to being informed of
X. Rather, one has already understood what X is or the meaning of X, even vaguely.
Without this pre-conception, it would have been impossible to raise the question:
“What is X?” Instead of acquiring factual information about the world, what
Heidegger’s hermeneutic ontology is achieving in its process of asking and answer-
ing a question concerning the meaning of Being is to interpret the most well-known
phenomenon explicitly by opening up a historic situation in which what has been
already understood becomes able to hold meaning. Through this process, one who
engages themselves in ontology, say Dasein, experiences existential change or
54
Paul Ricoeur, On Translation, pp. 31–32.
modification, from the everyday and natural mode of Being-in-the-World in which

Being is taken as self-evident, into the philosophical mode of Being-in-the-World in
which the Being of self and world reveals itself as uncanny and questionable. In
order to make this decisive change for ontological thinking possible, to translate
basic concepts of one’s own language into foreign language or vice versa is a fine
method. For those concepts will be then revealed as words that are in fact not self-
evident at all and need philosophical interpretation in a broader context.
Translation featured as a necessary part of Heidegger’s philosophical thinking
from his early lectures. Translation is so significant in Heidegger’s thinking that the
possibility of genuine thinking even relies on how translation is performed; this is
shown in the idea of “true-to-word” translation as a criticism of the translation
machine conceived as a manifestation of “modern logical interpretation of thinking
and discourse.” This modern image of thinking and discourse is crystalized in the
contemporary notion of a language as a tool of communicating information.55 In this
respect Heidegger’s philosophy of translation can be placed within the context of
his harsh criticism of cybernetics, as a branch of science, which suggests the further
scope of Heidegger’s question of translation. According to Heidegger, the age of the
translation machine we experience today is at risk of lack of thinking. Translation is
not an optional topic for the purpose of our understanding Heidegger and thinking
with him. It should be, rather, regarded as the central element of both his and his
readers’ corporative thinking.
References
Benveniste, É. 1973. Problems in General Linguistics. Trans. E. Palmer. London: Faber and Faber.
Berman, A. 1992. The Experience of the Foreign: Culture and Translation in Romantic Germany.
Trans. S. Heyvaert. New York: State University of New York Press.
———. 1999. La Traduction et la lettre, ou L’auberge du lointain. Paris: Seuil.
Cicero, M.T. 1949. The Best Kind of Orator. In De Inventione: De Optimo Genere Oratorum.
Trans. H.M. Hubbell. Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press.
Crowell, S.G. 2001. Husserl, Heidegger and the Space of Meaning: Paths Toward Transcendental
Phenomenology. Evanston: North Western University Press.
Dilthey, W. 1968. Die geistige Welt: Einleitung in die Philosophie des Lebens. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.
Dummet, M. 1993. Origins of Analytic Philosophy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Gadamer, H.G. 1989. Heideggers ‘theologische’ Jugendschrift. Dilthey-Jahrbuch für Philosophie
der Geisteswissenschaften 6: 228–234.
———. 1990. Wahrheit und Methode. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr.
Gallagher, S., and D. Zahavi. 2008. The Phenomenological Mind: An Introduction into Philosophy
of Mind and Cognitive Sciences. New York: Routledge.
Heidegger, M.S.Z. 1993. Sein und Zeit. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer.
Heidegger, M. GA1. 1978. Frühe Schriften. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.
Heidegger, M. GA10. 1997. Der Satz vom Grund. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.
Heidegger, M. GA54. 1992. Parmenides. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.
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Martin Heidegger, Der Satz vom Grund, pp. 182–183.
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Heidegger, M. GA55. 1979. Heraklit. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann,.

Heidegger, M. GA62. 2005. Phenomenological Interpretation of Selected Papers of Aristotle’s
Ontology and Logic. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.
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Quine, W.V.O. 1960. Word and Object. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press.
Ricoeur, P. 2001. Le Juste 2. Paris: Esprit.
———. 2006. On Translation. Trans. R. Kearney. Introduction by R. Kearney. London/New York:
Routledge.
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Sallis, J. 2002. On Translation. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University press.
———. 2005. Das Ende der Übersetzung. In Dimensionen des Hermeneutischen: Heidegger und
Gadamer, ed. G. Figal and H.H. Gander, 11–22. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann.
Schalow, F. 2011a. Attunement and Translation. In Heidegger, Translation, and the Task of
Thinking: Essays in Honor of Parvis Emad, ed. F. Schalow, 291–311. Dordrecht: Springer.
———. 2011b. A Conversation with Parvis Emad on the Question of Translation in Heidegger.
In Heidegger, Translation, and the Task of Thinking: Essays in Honor of Parvis Emad, ed.
F. Schalow, 175–189. Dordrecht: Springer.
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Übersetzens, ed. H.J. Störig, 38–70. Stuttgart: Henry Goverts.
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Takashi Ikeda (Ph.D., The University of Tokyo) is Associate Professor at Meiji University. He is

author of Sonzai to Koi: Haidega Sonzai to Jikan no Kaisyaku to Tenkai [Being and Action:
Heidegger’s Being and Time Reexamined] (Sobunsya, 2011). His research topics are Heidegger’s
philosophy and phenomenological ethics. Among his articles are “Agency and Mortality:
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feministische-phänomenologische Perspektive” (Polylog, 2014).
Heidegger’s Transcendental Ontology
and His Interpretation of Kant
Norio Murai
Abstract The transcendental thinking of Heidegger has its roots in his study of the
medieval theory of ‘transcendentals’ during his Habilitation. By displacing the
Aristotelico-Scholastic concept of ‘transcendentals’ from the realm of metaphysical
speculation and replacing it with the context of Kantian transcendental philosophy
and Husserlian phenomenology, Heidegger formed a project called ‘the explication
of the transcendental horizon of time for the question of being’ in Being and Time.
This point of view led him to a positive confrontation with Kantian thought. In this
paper, we will investigate the traces of this transcendental thinking in Heidegger’s
work, mainly based on his interpretation of Kant, and then explore the self-referential
structure of transcendental imagination (Ein-bildungs-kraft), which makes the phil-
osophical reflection in general possible through the medium of image (Bild).
Keywords Kant · Heidegger · Transcendental · Imagination · Image · Temporality

· Self-affection
1 Introduction
The notion of “transcendence” or the “transcendental” is one of the key concepts in

Heidegger’s philosophical inquiries, starting from the very beginning of his early
studies and lasting through the period in which he wrote his master-work, Being and
Time (Sein und Zeit). This concept of “transcendence” also continues to play a role
thereafter, although the term itself appears less frequently in his later philosophy.
The importance of the term suggests he was influenced by the metaphysical thought
of Scholasticism, which Heidegger first occupied himself with in his early career.
We can likely also see his academic background in Neo-Kantianism. These two ele-
ments, and, in addition to the existential meditation on the activities of life influ-
enced by the work being done by theorists interested in Lebensphilosophie, were the
initial motives for the development of his own original philosophy and its
N. Murai (*)
Faculty of Letters, Chuo University, Hachiōji, Tokyo, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_10
122 N. Murai
integration with transcendental philosophy. In particular, his critical confrontation

with the epistemological interpretation of the Neo-Kantians of his time led
Heidegger to an innovative method of reviving ontology and metaphysical thinking.
It is in this context that we will aim to explore Heidegger’s interpretation of Kant as
concerns its transcendental character, beginning with showing the influence of
medieval theories of “transcendentals.” Our discussion will then focus on examin-
ing the problem of the imagination, which is, according to Heidegger’s interpreta-
tion, the foundation of the ontological structure of time and the condition for
philosophical reflections on time. In order to examine his usage of the term “tran-
scendental,” we will also take its meaning in medieval philosophy into account and
also look into the enigma concerning the function of the ‘transcendental imagina-
tion’ toward its ontological domain. From this point, we will see that transcendental
thinking has the possibility to contribute to new aspects of contemporary ontology,
as it were, of a “transcendental ontology.”1 This consideration will, furthermore,
also give us a clue about how we can think about the later phases of Heidegger’s
philosophy.
2 ‘ Transcendence’ and ‘Transcendental’ in Heidegger’s

Early Thinking
In early twentieth-century Europe, critiques of materialism and scientism began

working against the trends of modernization and rationalization that had originated
in the nineteenth century. With the aim of reconstructing the entirety of culture, a
flow of restoration flourished and movements of recurrence spread rapidly in
Europe. In this academic, artistic, and religious climate, which has been called ‘the
progressive reaction’, young Heidegger took part through his academic career in the
endeavour of reviving the philosophical and metaphysical tradition and of produc-
ing a new kind of philosophical thought. Such trends were similarly named with the
prefix ‘neo’, or ‘neu’ in German: Neo-Kantianism, Neo-Romanticism, Neo-Thomist
Scholasticism). Heidegger finished his thesis On Judgment Theory of Psychologism
(1913) as his first academic treatise and then extended the same line of critical
investigation to the Habilitation on Duns Scotus’ Theory of Categories and Meaning
(1915). Outgoing from the objective epistemological theory of Neo-Kantianism and
the pure logic and grammar of Husserl, Heidegger specifically analysed in this
Habilitation the grammatica speculativa of metaphysical language theory in the
1
Using the terminology ‘Transcendental Ontology’, M. Gabriel developed an interpretation of
German Idealism from the viewpoint of ontology and realism. In Chapter 2 of his work, he com-
pares the concept of being in the later work of Schelling and the later work of Heidegger, and
demonstrates the close proximity of the two philosophers. M. Gabriel, Transcendental Ontology,
Bloomsbury: London, etc. 2011, esp. pp. 69–81.
Heidegger’s Transcendental Ontology and His Interpretation of Kant 123
Scholasticism of the late Middle Ages. This was the first opportunity upon which he
came across the problem of transcendentals.2
The discipline called ‘speculative grammar’ was then a suitable subject for
developing Heidegger’s interest in scholastic ontology using the philosophical
framework of Neo-Kantian transcendental theory. The young Heidegger, whose
education original started from a theological background, gradually noticed ‘the
question of being’ in the concerns cultivated by the Neo-Scholastics, hence consid-
ering a problem of Aristotelian ontology with the transcendentalism provided by the
Neo-Kantianism, while furthermore absorbing the Lebensphilosophie inspired by
Neo-Romanticism. This phenomenological and transcendental interpretation of
Scholasticism, which included the creative possibility of ontology, helped lead to
the formation of Heidegger’s own original thought concerning the internal linkage
of phenomenology and transcendental philosophy, and the correlation of cognition
(Wissen) and being (Sein).3 It was also then that the strong impetus for Heidegger to
seek a connection between the philosophical affairs of being (Sein), understanding
(Verstehen), language (Sprache), and the mutual relations between them.
While analyzing speculative grammar as an ontological theory, Heidegger paid
special attention to the argument of “transcendentals” (transcendentalia;
Transzendentalien) that provides the ontological foundation of speculative gram-
mar. Heidegger did this in order to rethink the problem of Scholasticism in a con-
temporary environment, as well as to regain its possibilities for philosophy. Unlike
general categories that prescribe empirical objects, transcendentals surpass the
predicates of concrete attributes and predicate the being of beings in general. The
doctrine of transcendentals began with the argument about the compatibility of
‘existence’ and ‘one’ discussed by Aristotle in Metaphysics IV, 2,4 but it was more
concretely established by some thinkers, represented by Philippus Cancellarius
(1165/85-1236)5 as a theoretical base for Scholasticism in the early thirteenth cen-
tury. Thereafter, Thomas Aquinas (1225-74) defined transcendentals as “thing, one,
something, truth, good” (res, unum, aliquid, verum, bonum) in his work The
Disputed Questions On Truth (Quaestiones disputatae de veritate), which is now
considered as the classic formula of transcendentals. Transcendentals are funda-
mental to metaphysical views of knowledge and language, insofar as they are related
2
For a survey of the history of the concept of the ‘transcendental’ from medieval philosophy to
Heidegger, I suggest one to consult the following article: Cf. J. J. Kockelmans, On the Meaning of
the Transcendental Dimension of Philosophy, in: G. Müller, Th. M. Seebohm (Hgg.), Perspektiven
transzendentaler Reflexion, Bouvier: Bonn 1989, pp. 27–49. Also, see the useful collection of
articles: S. Crowell, Jeff Malpas (eds.), Transcendental Heidegger, Stanford U. Pr.: Stanford,
California 2007.
3
Cf. A. K. Wucherer-Huldenfeld, Zu Heideggers Verständnis des Seins bei Johannes Duns Scotus
und im Skotismus sowie im Thomasismus und bei Thomas von Aquin, in: H. Vetter (Hg.),
Heidegger und das Mittelalter, Frankfurt a. M./Berlin/Bern/New York/Paris/Wien 1999.
4
Aristoteles, Metaphysica IV, 2, 1004b23sp., pp. 148sp.
5
J. A. Aertsen, art. “Transzendental; Transzendentalphilsophie: II Die Anfänge bis Meister
Eckhart”, in: J. Ritter, K. Gründer (Hgg.), Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie, Bd. 10,
Schwabe & co.; Basel 1998, pp. 1360–1365.
124 N. Murai
to a description about being in general. In Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason as well,

the theory of transcendentals should be understood as a “chapter containing pure
concepts of the understanding in the transcendental philosophy of the ancients.”6
Tellingly, Kant then quotes the Latin sentence quodlibet ens est unum, verum,
bonum (whatever is being, is one, is true, is good) and claims it to be “the famous
proposition of the scholastics.”
Since the theory of transcendentals in late Scholasticism argued in favor of the
possibility of predication of existence or being in general, the issue of the relation
between thinking and being became a prominent problem for the whole of medi-
eval philosophy. As Alexander of Hales (1185-1245) formulates: Unum, verum et
bonum convertuntur cum ente.7 Each transcendental has a specific concrete mean-
ing, but, so long as each transcendental is convertible in predicating being with
other transcendentals, they simultaneously maintain conceptual universality. We
can say that whatever is “good,” is also “true,” and must also “be.” When we talk
about the transcendent being of God, this characteristic stands out more clearly:
God is equally “one,” “truth,” “goodness,” and “being.” While this convertibility
suggests that these terms have a priori universality insofar as they can similarly be
used as predicates of being in general, the assertions using these concepts are
never mere empty tautological statements. They have the principal property of a
synthetic judgment a priori in their Kantian meaning. This reasoning is based on
the assertion that transcendentals have absolute truth, although not in formal logi-
cal sense, and furthermore expand objective knowledge of reality. Heidegger also
attempted to find the ‘circulation’ of spirit (in the Hegelian sense) in this convert-
ibility or commutativity of the transcendental categories, and to grasp the reflec-
tive character of transcendental thinking.8 In this way, Heidegger transferred the
concept of ‘transcendentals’ from the realm of metaphysical speculation to the
context of transcendental philosophy and phenomenology. Heidegger believed
this reinterpretation allowed for a ‘Making-Fluid [Flüssigmachung] of
Scholaticism’, which could be taken to anticipate the ‘destruction [Destruktion]’
of metaphysics in his later thinking.9 As concerns his interpretation of transcen-
dence, Heidegger also stated the following in his lecture, Basic Concepts of
Ancient Philosophy (1926):
6
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, B113; Engl trans., p. 110. Quotations of this work are cited
from the following English translation: I. Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, translated, edited, and
with an Introduction by Marcus Weigelt, Based on the translation by Max Müller, Penguin Books:
London 2007.
7
Alexander Halensis, Summa theologica, P I, inq.1, tract.3, pp. 1–3.
8
M. Heidegger, Die Kategorien- und Bedeutungslehre des Duns Scotus (1915), Gesamtausgabe (=
GA) 1, Vittorio Klostermann: Frankfurt a. M. 1978, p. 217.
9
Ibid., pp. 196f.; 204; 399. Cf. J. Schaber, Heideggers frühes Bemühen um eine >Flüssigmachung
der Scholastik< und seine Zuwendung zu Johannes Duns Scotus, in: N. Fischer, F.-W. von
Herrmann (Hgg.), Heidegger und die christliche Tradition, Felix Meiner Verlag: Hamburg 2007,
pp.108–113.
The science of being as transcendens (transcendence) has propositions that describe being
itself, not the truth of the entities that exist, but truth about being itself as transcendens. This
truth (veritas) is transcendental. The philosophical truth is veritas transcendentalis, but not
transcendental in the Kantian meaning.10
As we can tell by looking at the above quote, it is clear that Heidegger’s aim is to
connect transcendental philosophy with the ontological concerns of the Scholastic
metaphysical theory of transcendentals. Moreover, Heidegger intended to recast the
concept of transcendens with the phenomenological and existential meaning of
‘lean out (Hinausliegen)’, or ‘exceed (Übersteigen),’ which should not be under-
stood as the supersensory world in the metaphysical sense.11 This interpretation
becomes the foundation of the view of Dasein in Being and Time (1927) so that
‘transcendence’ is regarded as transcendence to the world (Transzendenz zur Welt),
or the disclosure of being-there (Erschlossenheit des Daseins) in the ontological
sense.
Being is transcendens pure and simple [Sein ist das transcendens schlechthin]… Every
disclosure of being as transcendens is transcendental knowledge. Phenomenological truth
(the disclosedness of being) is veritas transcendentalis.12
Here, Heidegger converts the concept of veritas transcendentalis that Kant used
sparingly in Critique of Pure Reason into his own existential concept of the ‘tran-
scendence (exceed) of being,’ assuming the ‘truth’ to be that of the transcendentals
in Scholasticism. In this manner, the concept of the ‘transcendental’ defined as ‘the
condition of possibility of experience’ in Critique of Pure Reason acquired a new
existential-ontological meaning in his Fundamental Ontology.13 When Heidegger
calls being transcendens schlechthin in Being and Time, transcendence has a more
comprehensive meaning than in modern transcendental philosophy, which is limited
to the Kantian philosophical framework. Hence, Heidegger’s argument seems closer
to the medieval doctrine of transcendentals.14 Although Heidegger criticized and
deconstructed the history of metaphysics in his later thought, we can see that his
original motivation derived from a systematic analytic of medieval Scholaticism.
10
M. Heidegger, Die Grundbegriffe der antiken Philosophie (1926), GA 22, Vittorio Klostermann:
Frankfurt a. M. 1993, p. 10.
11
Ibid.
12
M. Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, 7. Aufl. Max Niemeyer: Tübingen 1979, p. 38; Engl. trans., p. 62.
The quotations from this work rely mainly on the following English translation: M. Heidegger,
Being and Time, translated by John Macquarrie & Edward Robinson, Harper & Row: London
1962.
13
Chr. Steffen, Heidegger als Transzendentalphilosoph. Seine Fundamentalontologie im Vergleich
zu Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, Universitätverlag Winter; Heidelberg 2005, pp. 195–209.
14
Cf. L. B. Puntel, Analogie und Geschichtlichkeit I, Freiburg/Basel/Wien 1969, p. 463.
126 N. Murai
3 Heidegger’s Kant Interpretation
By connecting the ontological concerns derived from his study of transcendentals in

Aristotelico-Scholastic speculative grammar with the transcendentalism of Kantian
philosophy, Heidegger formed a project called ‘the explication of the transcendental
horizon of time for the question of being’ in Being and Time. “With the problem of
transcendence, Kant does not replace metaphysics by a theory of knowledge but
brings into question the intrinsic possibility of ontology.”15 For the purpose of
unfolding transcendental philosophy as concerns its ontological potential based on
the function of the reflective self-reference of existence (Being-in-the-World), it is
necessary to deconstruct and reconstruct Kant’s structure of transcendental subjec-
tivity in order to understand the transcendental construction of the objectivity of the
objective world. Heidegger was, indeed, intensely engaged in interpreting Kant’s
Critique of Pure Reason before and immediately after the publication of Being and
Time. This fruits of this labor can be seen in his series of lectures: Logic. The
Question of Truth (1925/26), The Basic Problems of Phenomenology (1927), and
Phenomenological Interpretation of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason (1927/28); as
well as in one of his major written works, Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics
(1929). Through his attempt at providing an interpretation of Kant, Heidegger
investigated the possibility of viewing Kant’s transcendental logic as an ontological
method of analysis of Dasein: “On the horizon of transcendental logic, Dasein must
be a theme of ontological interpretation, and the theme of transcendental logic must
be the ontology of transcendence of Dasein.”16
For the purpose of realizing an ontology of Dasein by means of the transcenden-
tal method, it was necessary to research the basic structure of human understanding
more carefully and fundamentally than Kant had managed to do. Hence, Heidegger
researched “the whole domain of the pure understanding” that Kant traversed,17 and
went deeper to arrive at the structure of this ontology. Heidegger also intended to
compare a topographical map of the first edition (A-version) of Critique of Pure
Reason with that of the second edition (B-version), and discovered through this
comparison an old, fundamental layer to pure reason. In other words, Heidegger
found in Kant, a schematism (Schematismus) as “an art hidden in depths of the
human soul”18 with imagination as its origin. Contrasting the A-version and the
B-version of Critique of Pure Reason, Heidegger focused heavily on the A-version,
and subsequently refused the revisions proposed by the B-version, in which the
15
M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, GA 3, Vittorio Klostermann: Frankfurt a.
M. 2010, p. 17. Engl. trans., p. 21. The quotations of this work rely mainly on the following
English translation: M. Heidegger, Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics, translated by James
P. Churchill, Indiana U. Pr.: Bloomington & London 1975 (5th edition). In some cases, I have
changed the translation and format in order to adjust the translation to the context of my work.
16
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, GA 25, Vittorio
Klostermann: Frankfurt a. M. 1977, p. 219.
17
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A 235 f., B 294 f.; Engl. trans., p. 251.
18
Ibid., A 141, B 180; Engl. trans., p. 178p.
imagination (Einbildungskraft) was reduced to a function of transcendental apper-

ception. Instead of this revision, which confers the most dominant position in Kant’s
schematic upon transcendental apperception, Heidegger emphasized over all else
the primordial function of the imagination, and referred to it as the ‘transcendental
imagination’, separating himself from Kant’s original terminology. This problem
revolves around Kant’s famous statement that: ‘there are two stems of human
knowledge, namely sensibility and understanding, which perhaps spring from a
common root unknown to us’.19 An essential motive of Heidegger’s interpretation of
Kant can be found in his radical attempt to search for this ‘common root unknown
to us’, and thus find the ontological ground that belongs to Dasein in the human
being. The structure of pure reason is, therefore, considered not in the hierarchical
order where apperception synthesises sensibility and understanding from the top
down, as demonstrated in the B-version. According to Heidegger’s interpretation, in
contrast to the B-version, the structural composition of sensibility, understanding,
and imagination has to be taken, following the A-version, as the close inner unity in
which apperception does not dominate other faculties as an ability of the subject,
but is an ontological self-occurrence that, more precisely, as the self-affection
(Selbstaffektion) of imagination, produces the subject as self-sameness.
Of these three elements (sensibility, understanding, imagination), the pure syn-
thesis of the imagination holds the central position … this central position has a
structural significance. In it the pure synopsis and the pure synthesis meet and fit in
with one another. This fitting in with one another Kant expresses by establishing the
self-sameness [Selbigkeit] of the pure synthesis in the syn-thetic character [Syn-
haften] or the intuition and the understanding.20
Transcendental thinking in a Heideggerian phenomenological sense designates a
grasping of the direct ‘facticity (Faktizität)’ of appearance and the situation of
affairs or ‘thinghood (Sachheit)’ in the world. This phenomenological method must
not reduce the independence of phenomena into epistemological faculties or the
constitution of subjectivity, but must also receive this independence in correlation
with thinking. This colligation of the independence of beings with dependency on
thinking has its root in ‘the veritative synthesis’ as an essential unity of pure knowl-
edge.21 According to Kant’s formulation in the A-version, the unity of synthesis
consists in ‘(1) the synopsis of the manifold a priori the through sense; (2) the syn-
thesis of this manifold through imagination, (3) the unity of the synthesis through
original apperception’.22 In order to interpret this passage, Heidegger takes the prob-
lem of ‘the primordial (veritative) synthesis’ of the pure synopsis and the pure
reflective (predicative) synthesis to be the most fundamental issues of transcenden-
tal ontology, designating these topics as such in favor of the function apperception.23
What we should consider here is not the supremacy of subjectivity, but the event of
19
Ibid., A15, B 29; Engl. trans., p. 55.
20
M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 64; Engl. trans., p. 67.
21
Ibid., p. 60; Engl. trans., p. 63.
22
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A94; Engl. trans., p. 677.
23
M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 60f.; Engl. trans., p. 64.
128 N. Murai
affairs of all possible phenomena, prior to subjective synthesis. This phenomeno-

logical task is well-suited to the definition of transcendentalism in Kant’s Manuscript:
“it is transcendental to prescribe things as things concerning their essence.”24 This
definition corresponds, for Heidegger, to his maxim of phenomenology: “to let that
which shows itself be seen from itself in the very way in which it shows itself from
itself.”25 Phenomenology, in the Heideggerian sense, must here be the analysis of
the fundamental imagination as such, concerning the fundamental process of the
appearance of phenomena, which approaches the radial relation of beings and sub-
ject, i.e. the structure of Dasein and its temporal essence.
4 The Role of the Transcendental Imagination
Heidegger conceives of the decisive formulation of transcendental philosophy from

the view of phenomenology and ontology more comprehensively than the epistemo-
logical interpretations of the Neo-Kantians. Kant’s well-known proposition goes as
follows: “I call all knowledge transcendental which deals not so much with objects
as with our manner of knowing objects, insofar as this manner is to be possible a
priori. A system of such concepts would be called transcendental philosophy.”26
Heidegger turns this definition into an existential modality, i.e. understanding
(Verstehen), state of mind (Befindlichkeit), falling (Verfallen), that lets Dasein access
the thingness of affairs in the world. This modification means also that Heidegger
changes the transcendentals (Transzendentalien) into existentials (Existenzialien).
The transcendentals that describe objective beings are now interpreted as the exis-
tentials that determine the various modes of human existence in their complex com-
binations. With this reinterpretation, the concept of transcendence becomes a double
edge that simultaneously represents the independency of beings and the dependency
of Dasein on the world as Being-in-the-world. This mutual relationship, or correla-
tion called ‘transcendence’, assigns the transcendental independency and the given-
hood (Gegebenheit) of given beings to the finite receptivity of Dasein.
Heidegger’s analysis of these modalities must be able to reply to the question:
“How can finite human Dasein in advance pass beyond (transcend) the being when
not only has it not created this being but also is dependent on it in order to exist as
Dasein.”27 The mode of transcendence mentioned here is an existential issue for the
finite human Dasein. Provided that the understanding of transcendence relies on the
medieval metaphysics in Heidegger’s early study, the problem of transcendence
includes the independence and fulfilment of being (unum, veritas, bonum). This
independence of being is called the Entgegenstehen (turning toward; to take up a
24
Kant’s handschriftlicher Nachlaß, AA 5, Metaphysik. Zweiter Theil, Kant’s gesammelte
Schriften, 5738, Akademie-Ausgabe, Berlin/Leipzig 1928, GA18, p. 340.
25
M. Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, p. 34; Engl. trans., p. 58.
26
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A 11f., B 25; Engl. trans. p. 52.
27
position opposite to) of Dasein, which discloses the openness of the encounter with
being as object [Gegenstand]. “All finite beings must have this basic ability, which
can be described as a turning toward…. (orientation toward….) which lets some-
thing become an ob-ject [Gegen-stand].”28 This ‘toward….’, i.e. the fundamental
confrontation which makes the objectivity of objects in general possible, is reworded
to ‘being opposed’ in Heidegger’s terminology. ‘Object’ means that which is
opposed. It is not the linkage of a random, unbound, and irregular combination of
representations, but the fundamental unity of meaning that gives previous rules a
priori to all of empirical knowledge.29 Such rules a priori can be given by synthetic
judgement a priori, and with the transcendence to an ‘opposed’ object make the
objectivity of objects possible.
The objectivity of objects ‘carries with it’ something which constrains (‘some-
thing of necessity’). Through this constraint all that is encountered is in advance
forced into an accord (Einstimmigkeit) with reference to which also a manifestation
of what is encountered as not in accord is first possible. The precursory and constant
drawing together into unity (Zusammenzug auf Einheit) involves the [anticipative]
pro-position of unity…. The act of objectification is, therefore, the ‘primordial con-
cept (Urbegriff)’ and, insofar as conceptual representation is assigned to the under-
standing, is the fundamental activity of the understanding.30
In order to obtain objective and universal knowledge that is concerned with a
priori objectivity, it is necessary for human activities of cognition to grasp the inde-
pendency of objects, receiving simultaneously the opposition of ‘ob-ject’ that
depends on unempirical regularities and precursory rules of experience in general.31
To receive such an opposition of objects and to disclose oneself for affairs in the
world is the transcendence or disclosure [Erschlossenheit] of Dasein, which is the
very condition of experiences in general, and of intentionality in the sense of phe-
nomenology. This transcendence that relates Dasein to objective reality makes
experience as such possible. The chapter “The Supreme Principle of all Synthetic
Judgements” in Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason describes, following Heidegger, the
ontological constitution of Dasein correctly. This principle is formulated by Kant in
the following proposition: “The conditions of the possibility of experience in gen-
eral are at the same time conditions of the possibility of the objects of experience.”32
The phrase ‘at the same time’ suggests a central role of the imagination in the whole
human being, since the faculty that occupies the middle position in pure reason is
the imagination as the function that combines sensibility and understanding.
Therefore, the intermediation of ‘at the same time’ means, for Heidegger, the
medium of being and thinking through imagination, this intermediation being none
other than what Heidegger means by the term ‘transcendental.’ Thus, the productive
28
29
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft (1927/28), GA 25,
p. 368f.
30
Id., Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 74; Engl. trans., p. 78.
31
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 368f.
32
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A 158, B 197.
130 N. Murai
function of the ‘transcendental imagination’ appears here explicitly. It does not so

much play the role of bridging two different abilities as it does the essential role of
producing the middle and transcendental realm represented by the phrase ‘at the
same time.’
If we consider this transcendental imagination as the medium or intermediate
realm [Zwischenraum] of understanding of Being, as it would be on Heidegger’s
interpretation, this term, ‘middle’, signifies not a midpoint between sensibility and
understanding but two established functions in the Kantian sense. Instead, the ‘mid-
dle’ represents the ‘between [Zwischen]’ in itself prior to any settlement of episte-
mological functions. This ‘between in itself’ is, using Heidegger’s terminology,
nothing but the ‘there’ (Da) of being-there (Dasein). Consonant with such his ten-
dency of turning epistemological problems into ontological existentialism,
Heidegger claims that the argument of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason must be
interpreted not on the ‘objective deduction’ which requires an objective justification
under the problem of the juristic right (quaestio juris) after the legal model of Kant,
but on the ‘subjective deduction’, i.e. the existential one.
quaestio juris should not be understood as a question of validation … rather, the quaestio
juris is only a way of expressing the necessity of an analytic of transcendence, i.e. of a pure
phenomenology of the subjectivity of the subject, and furthermore, of the subject as finite.33
In contrast to Kant’s argument, Heidegger’s interpretation stresses the quaestio

facti rather than quaestio juris. The ‘fact’ of quaestio facti does not, however, refer
to any brute fact or sense data as in positivism or empiricism, but ‘a fact in a sense
of an ontological essential element’,34 i.e. the facticity (Faktizität) of Dasein, which
suggests the fundamental and ontological function of transcendental imagination.
While the validation of all objective knowledge depends on the faculty of appercep-
tion (Apperzeption) in the case of Kant, the fact of ontological relation to the world
is rooted in intuition as our primary way to access the affairs of the world. That is
why Heidegger emphasizes the significance of the doctrine of sensibility in Critique
of Pure Reason. The disclosure of Dasein to the world is founded on existential
facticity, which is connected closely with the sensibility and the fundamental func-
tion of the unifying of the totality of the whole world. Although Kant solved this
problem of fundamental totalizing and unifying of the world with an epistemologi-
cal justification and constitution of the objective world, posing transcendental
apperception on the basis of the structure of pure reason, Heidegger attempted to
grasp, against Kant’s solution, the principal function of synthesis in the mediation
of imagination, prior to the dualism of sensibility and understanding. The funda-
mental synthesis, which is the condition of the possibility of experience in general,
is placed, according to Heidegger, “before all apperception [vor der Apperzeption].”
This assertion, which would seem astonishing when thought of from the standpoint
put forward in the B-version of Critique of Pure Reason, is based on the following
phrase and able to acquire confirmation in the “Transcendental Deduction of the
33
34
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 330.
Pure Concepts of the Understanding” in the A-version: “Thus the principle of the
unity of (pure) synthesis of imagination, prior to [before] apperception, is the
ground of the possibility of all knowledge, especially of experience.”35 From this
quotation, Heidegger reads the truly ontological intention and the radical temporal
character included in the term ‘before,’ which been hidden to Kant in very own
discussion. This observation leads Heidegger to the following conclusion: “Hence,
pure imagination must be essentially related to time. Only in this way is pure imagi-
nation revealed as the mediator between transcendental apperception and time.”36
The relation of the pure imagination to time or temporality becomes the primordial
problem of transcendental ontology.
5 The Transcendental Schematism and Temporality
These three elements of pure intuition, pure imagination, and pure apperception, are
thus not apprehend in their mere juxtaposition, but in the intrinsic possibility con-
cerning the essential unity of pure ontological knowledge. According to this expla-
nation that the imagination plays a role of intermediation between sensibility and
understanding including apperception, the condition of possibility of experience is
proved via the connection with the structure of Dasein, because Dasein itself is just
the mediation and condition of the ‘understanding of being’ in general. This eluci-
dation of the transcendental deduction of the A-version recognizes the access of
Dasein to objectivity in general, which is called the ‘transcendental horizon,’ being
a presumption of disclosure to the world in Being and Time. It could be said that the
existential activities and multiple modalities of Dasein are united in the mediating
function of the transcendental imagination. In order to achieve the realization of
empirical knowledge, it is necessary to disclose the transcendental horizon as a field
of encounter with independent objects toward the faculty of reception of subjectiv-
ity. This fundamental reception itself must be seen as ‘pre-receptive (vorrezeptiv),’37
for the reason that the pre-ontological correspondence of Dasein with the world of
objectivity is prior to any actual and empirical activity of reception, the true mean-
ing of the ‘finitude (Endlichkeit)’ of Dasein. This insight into the finitude of human
knowledge was also suggested by Kant with the distinction of the intuitus derivati-
vus as cognition limited to sensibility and the absolute omnipotence represented by
the intuitus originarius as the creation of beings. Nevertheless, the foundation of
Kant’s insight is entirely inadequate and irrelevant from an ontological viewpoint.
35
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft., A 118; M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik,
pp. 76–84; id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, pp. 406f.,
411f.
M. Heidegger, Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 374.
36
Id., Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 81; Engl. trans., p. 86.
37
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 374.
132 N. Murai
Hence, for Heidegger, Kant’s explanation of finitude and of the imagination was
still bound to the restrictions of classical philosophy and traditional metaphysics.
Heidegger’s interpretation of Kant attempted, needless to say, to not only cut off
the imagination from the traditional context derived from Aristotle’s psychological
argument about fantasy (phantasia), but also to abandon the plan of the ‘Architectonic
of Pure Reason’ in the B-version of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, in which tran-
scendental apperception is placed at center of the theory. To attain this purpose,
Heidegger regarded the investigation of the imagination as the foundation of the
chapters ‘Analytic of Concepts’ and the ‘Analytic of Principles’, and tried to con-
ceive of transcendental schematism from an ontological viewpoint, with the convic-
tion that schematism is just a principal function of the imagination. Since Kant
himself misunderstood the essential problem of imagination and its deep structure,
the temporal character of imagination must be investigated further. Despite the fact
that Kant’s sharp insight offered a glimpse into the deep layer of Ur-temporality as
the foundation of finite human Dasein, it remains for him ‘obscure and almost inac-
cessible’. As Heidegger says, “Kant’s understanding of time as expressed in the
doctrine of schematism remains isolated and completely misunderstood by the
Idealism that followed.”38 That is the reason why Heidegger requires “a fundamen-
tal understanding of what he [Kant] had de facto carried out first in the schematism
and then in the Doctrine of Principles.”39 What Kant carried out, without noticing,
and what German Idealists after Kant could not accomplish completely, is the anal-
ysis of imagination considering temporality, after Heidegger’s term, to be a ‘phe-
nomenological chronology [die phänomenologische Chronologie]’.40
In Critique of Pure Reason, the doctrines of imagination and schematism are
introduced into the discussion of transcendental logic in order to bridge two totally
different domains, i.e. the intuition of sensibility and the concepts of understanding
through the pure synthesis of imagination. By means of this treatment, the pure
concepts of understanding are not only mentioned as ‘notions [notiones],’ but also
bound to time as pure intuition and able to constitute all possible reality by means
of schemata. On account of this process, pure concepts begin to function as catego-
ries (quantity, quality, relation, modality), which makes experience in general pos-
sible through the schemata.
The schemata, therefore, are nothing but a priori determinations of time according to rules;
and these rules, as applied to all possible objects, refer in the order of the categories to the
series of time, the content of time, the order of time and, lastly, the sum total of time.41
Although in this treatment the problem of temporality is mentioned with respect

to the condition of experience, this argument relies on, according to Heidegger, the
naïve and traditional presumption on account of which one takes sensibility and
understanding to be two independent faculties. Speaking from Heidegger’s stand-
38
Ibid.
39
Id., Logik. Die Frage nach der Wahrheit, GA 21, p. 202f.; Engl. trans., p. 171.
40
Cf. ibid., p. 201; Engl. trans., p. 170.
41
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A 145, B 185f.; Engl. trans., p. 181.
point, which aims to grasp the whole ontological structure of ‘being-in-the-world,’

it is impossible to divide the existential and fundamental state of Dasein strictly into
singular elements that need to bind each other after this distinction. This discussion
we see adopted especially in the deduction of the B-version seems to originate from
the distinction between empirical and psychological observations and transfer it
inadequately to the transcendental dimension. We can thus see that the fundamental
function of the transcendental apperception proposed by Kant was derived from this
misunderstanding.
Heidegger therefore attempts to oppose Kant by conceiving of the unity of exis-
tential transcendence and the transcendental horizon as forming the mediation of
imagination, instead of making sensibility and understanding subordinate to apper-
ception. Hence, for Heidegger, the ontological analysis of imagination and its tem-
poral interpretation is the primordial task of transcendental logic.42 For this project,
Heidegger emphasizes the elementary fact that the definite factor of image [Bild] is
included in the imagination [Ein-bildungs-kraft], and tries to connect the role of the
transcendental schemata with the creative function of image (aspect): “Pure imagi-
nation in forming the schema gives in advance the aspect (image) of the horizon of
transcendence.”43 Pure imagination regulates human experience in general thus that
it has an outstanding position as the transcendental imagination, which ought to be
distinguished from the reproductive one, “which is subject only to empirical laws,
namely, to the laws of association’ and ‘belongs in psychology.”44 The supreme
function of the productive and transcendental imagination is rooted in the primor-
dial and pure synthesis that is described in the ‘threefold synthesis’ of the deduction
in the A-version. The threefold synthesis is enumerated in the following way: (1) the
Synthesis of Apprehension in Intuition; (2) the synthesis of Reproduction in
Imagination; and (3) the Synthesis of Recognition in Concepts.45 What Heidegger
achieved in his reading of this chapter was an investigation concerning the image in
the most basic sense and its relation to time itself, more precisely, to temporality as
‘pure image [das reine Bild]’.
At first, the synthesis of apprehension, is “concerned with the now (the present
itself), but in such a way that this concern with … itself forms that with which it is
concerned.”46 This is because of the activity that pure intuition procures, unlike
empirical intuitions, which are activities of receiving present phenomena in general,
the condition concerning the now as an aspect of time (present). Secondly, Heidegger
seeks the ontological, transcendental condition of representation, which is regarded
ordinarily as a function of imagination, in pure synthesis. Since the phenomena
experienced before are not entirely lost, and since empirical reproduction is p ossible,
42
Cf. Ch. M. Sherover, Heidegger, Kant & Time, Indiana U. Pr.: Bloomington/London 1972.
43
44
I. Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, B 152, p. 150.
45
M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 177; Engl. trans., p.182. Cf. D. Carr,
Heidegger on Kant on Transcendence, in: P. Crowell, J. Malpas (eds.), Transcendental Heidegger,
pp. 28–42.
46
M. Heidegger, Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 189; Engl. trans., p. 185
134 N. Murai
“the no-longer-now as such must, in advance and before all experience, be capable
of being brought back to the present and united with the actual now.”47 By calling
back the perceptions passed by, the synthesis of reproduction makes the regression
to the past experience possible by disclosing the horizon of the past itself. Thirdly,
the object with which our cognition is concerned must always be identified as such
and hold its pure identity in itself.
For at the basis of both syntheses [synthesis of apprehension, and of reproduc-
tion] and determining them there lies an act of unification (synthesis) of a being
relative to its identity [Selbigkeit]. The synthesis intending this identity, i.e. that
which pro-poses a being is as identical, Kant terms, and justly so, synthesis “in
concepts.”48
Such a synthesis in concepts, called the ‘synthesis of recognition,’ appears as the
third, but most primordial synthesis, because it provides the possibility for all iden-
tification of beings. “To the foundation belongs the ‘beforehand-having’
[Vorweghabe: prospecting], which has the united relation of being beforehand.
While in identifying something one apprehends it, in reproducing something one
expects the unity of the being that existed before.”49 This synthesis, named third in
order, is the final factor but is nevertheless the first and most indispensable factor. It
plays the important role of providing the total unity of the other two syntheses in
advance. Hence, the synthesis of recognition primordially does not mean the deter-
minate function of recognition and identification as the principal role of prospecting
the total horizon of all possible beings. “As pure, its prospecting is the pure forma-
tion of that which makes all projection [Vorhaften] possible, i.e. the future.”50
According to this explication of the threefold synthesis, it can be concluded that
these syntheses are essentially concerned with time in totality and represent it not as
any entity, but as the ‘pure image.’ The synthesis of apprehension in intuition
receives the appearance of being in the present, and the synthesis of reproduction
grasps the beings experienced before as the phenomena in the past, on the ground of
the synthesis of recognition that provides in advance the horizon of the identifica-
tion in general, i.e. the ground of the experience of all possible beings in the future.
6 The Pure Self-Affection of Time
Transcendental imagination formulates time itself, in which the temporal appear-

ance of beings is made possible and along which the manifold significances of being
itself are articulated and interpreted through mediation of the schemeta included in
the imagination. By allowing the aspect [Anblick] of the temporal appearance of
47
Ibid., p. 181; Engl. trans., p. 186
48
Ibid., p. 185, Engl. trans., p. 190.
49
Id., Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft, GA 25, p. 364.
50
Id., Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 186: Engl. trans., p. 191
beings, the schemata provides the ecstatic horizon of ‘removals to…. [Entrückungen
zu….]’ , based on the character of the ecstatic transcendence of Dasein.
As removals to … and thus because of the ecstatic character of each of them, they each have
a horizon which is prescribed by the mode of the removal [Entrückung], the carrying-away,
the mode of the future, past, and present, and which belongs to the ecstasis itself … We call
this whither [Wohin] of the ecstasis the horizon or, more precisely, the horizontal schema of
the ecstasis.51
Because of the ecstatic removal to the temporal horizon, i.e. the transcendence to
the world, the fundamental mode of Dasein must be called ‘transcendental’. It is
here that we can understand why Heidegger transferred the same term, transcenden-
tal, to an ontological and existential context, and interpreted it comprehensively in
relation with the temporal constitution of Dasein. “It is from the ontological concept
of transcendence properly understood that an understanding can first of all be gained
of what Kant was seeking, at bottom, when transcendence moved for him into the
center of philosophical inquiry, so much so that he called his philosophy transcen-
dental philosophy.”52
If one would acknowledge this fundamental meaning of transcendental philoso-
phy, and accept the temporal character of the understanding of being, one will see
the need for the inevitable task of describing the transcendental function of tempo-
rality without obstructing its original structure. It is instructive for this argument
that Kant referred to the faculty of making images in three types, facultas foramdi,
facultas imaginandi, facultas praevidendi,53 since the three facultas correspond
respectively to the faculty of representing images: one of the present as ‘re-image
[Ab-bild]’, one of reproducing images of the past as ‘post-image [Nach-bild]’, and,
one of anticipating future images as ‘pre-image [Vor-bild]’.54 The pure image of
time itself diverges in accordance with each aspect of temporality and forms the
ecstatic horizon for the transcendence of Dasein. The image referred to here signi-
fies neither a reproduction in the sense of a mere copy nor a fabrication by fantasy.
It constitutes the pure sequence a priori of time itself in a transcendental determina-
tion. Hence, the image in the sense of transcendental thinking means, so to speak, a
transparent medium, which reflects the fundamental constitution of ontological
temporality. Because, on account of the faculty of making pure images, the tran-
scendental imagination has the role of letting the affairs of beings appear as it shows
itself, it can fulfil the principle of phenomenology for Heidegger. For this reason,
the transcendental imagination executes the spontaneous constitution of temporality
itself, and at the same time, reflects its own constitution in the midst of its
execution.
This structure of self-reference and self-reflection of transcendental imagination
is derived, as I have already argued, from the pure synthesis which consists of the
51
Id., Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie, GA 24, p. 428f.; Engl. trans., p. 302.
52
Ibid., p. 423; Engl. trans., p. 298
53
Id., Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, p. 174f.; Engl. trans., p. 180.
54
Ibid., p. 186; Eng. trans., p. 191.
136 N. Murai
threefold synthesis. Although the problem of pure synthesis was proposed for the
purpose of combining the intuition and the concepts in Critique of Pure Reason, we
should remember that Heidegger’s interpretation of intuitive sensibility and concep-
tual understanding is not independent of subjective abilities, but instead has a com-
mon root in the transcendental imagination in advance. The rudimentary structure
of transcending and returning to the self in subjectivity relies on the self-circular
constitution of synthesis by imagination. Dasein’s commitment to beings or objects
is made possible only by the mutual correlation of the transcending construction of
the horizon and the reflective self-recurrence. This process springs forth ‘from the
self directing toward…. [Von-sich-aus-hin-zu-auf]’ in such a way that it surges
along ‘back to…. [Worauf-zu]’ and restores orientation. This ecstatic and reverse
movement of disclosing the field of encounter with beings is nothing but the pure
self-affection [Selbstaffektion] of imagination, i.e. time itself.
As pure self-affection, time is not an active affection concerned with the concrete self; as
pure, it forms the essence of all auto-solicitation. Therefore, if the power of being solicited
as a self belongs to the essence of the finite subject, time as pure self-affection forms the
essential structure of subjectivity.55
When the self-affection of time is proved to be a fundamental structure of sub-

jectivity, the pure reflective solicitation of ‘toward… .’ and ‘back to… .’, as time
must be previous to each subject, and then precede the activity of conscious reflec-
tion. Imagination, which Kant took as a faculty of subjectivity, reveals its original
state of transcendence. Now, the self-affection of time that forms the horizon of
temporality in its transcendental function separates from the subjective context and
finds its essential constitution of the ‘possibilities [Möglichkeiten]’ in itself as the
ontological mode of Dasein. It relies on the mutual and circular relationship of the
‘project [Entwurf]’ and the ‘thrownness’ [Geworfenheit] that makes the dimension
of the pure ontological space of transcendence, which signifies the ‘possibilities’ of
the finite human being. Along this interpretation, Heidegger expounded, on the
basis of the existential analysis in Being of Time, the structure of ontological media-
tion as temporal transcendence: “Consequently, the transcendental imagination as
we have known it up to this point is transformed into more original “possibilities”
so that even the name ‘imagination’ becomes inadequate.”56 Now, inquiry must
advance to the deeper dimension of Dasein, changing its title of ‘imagination’ to the
ontological and destructive mode of the ‘Event’ or En-Ownness [Ereingnisl. This
problem would surpass the argument of the transcendental imagination as constitut-
ing Dasein, and lead to Heidegger’s later philosophy, which ventures into the inves-
tigation of Being as ‘Seyn.’
55
56
I would like to thank Editage (www.editage.jp) for English language editing.
7 Conclusion
In his interpretation of Kant’s work, Heidegger made the problem of transcendental

deduction and of transcendental schematism clear in a different way than Kant man-
aged to. When transcendental imagination is explored in its essential constitution as
time, or as the horizontal schema of the understanding of being, taking leave of a
faculty of the subjective, the temporality embedded in Dasein reveals itself as the
transcendental condition of the disclosing beings. The temporality of schematism,
of which original activity represents itself in the pure image of ‘time’ itself, forms
the pure transcendental horizons of the triply complex aspects of present, past, and
future. Time based on the fundamental mediation of Dasein discloses open space
[Spielraum] of encounter with beings, using Kant’s term, i.e. the objectivity of all
possible objects. Temporality grasped as the image of the ontological occurrence of
time has a fundamental function of self-reference and self-reflection, following
time’s structure of self-affection or self-solicitation. The self-referential constitution
of the appearance of beings, prior to the subjective action of conscious reflection, is
the primordial theme of not only phenomenology, but also of Heidegger’s later
thinking, which makes it a significant problem to meditate upon the ontological
occurrence of time itself, i.e. the radical Event (Ereingis) of the Being (Seyn).
References
Aertsen, J.A. 1998. Transzendental; Transzendentalphilsophie: II Die Anfänge bis Meister Eckhart.
In Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie, Bd. 10, ed. J. Ritter, and K. Gründer, 1360–1365.
Schwabe & co.: Basel.
Carr, D. (2007). Heidegger on Kant on Transcendence. In Transcendental Heidegger, ed. P. Crowell
and J. Malpas, 28–42. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Crowell, S., and J. Malpas, eds. 2007. Transcendental Heidegger. Stanford: Stanford University
Press.
Gabriel, M. 2011. Transcendental Ontology. Bloomsbury: London etc.
Heidegger, M.. 1927. Sein und Zeit, 7. Aufl. Max Niemeyer: Tübingen 1979; English translation:
Being and Time, translated by John Macquarrie & Edward Robinson, Harper & Row: London
1962.
———. 1977. Phänomenologische Interpretation von Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft,
Gesamtausgabe (= GA) 25. Frankfurt a. M: Vittorio Klostermann.
———. 1978. Frühe Schriften, GA 1. Frankfurt a. M.: Vittorio Klostermann.
———. 1993. Die Grundbegriffe der antiken Philosophie, GA 22. Frankfurt a. M.: Vittorio
Klostermann.
———. 2010. Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, GA 3. Frankfurt a. M.: Vittorio Klostermann;
English translation: translated by James P. Churchill, Indiana University Press: Bloomington
& London 1975 (5th edition).
Kant, I. 1781. Kritik der reinen Vernunft, Kant’s gesammelte Schriften, Akademie-Ausgabe, Bd. 4.
Berlin/Leipzig 1911; English translation: I. Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, translated, edited,
and with an Introduction by Marcus Weigelt, Based on the translation by Max Müller, Penguin
Books: London 2007.
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———. 1928. Kant’s handschriftlicher Nachlaß, Metaphysik. Zweiter Theil, Kant’s gesammelte
Schriften, Akademie-Ausgabe, Bd. 18. Berlin/Leipzig.
Kockelmans, J.J. 1989. On the Meaning of the Transcendental Dimension of Philosophy. In
Perspektiven transzendentaler Reflexion, ed. G. Müller and Th.M. Seebohm, 27–49. Bonn:
Bouvier.
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Schaber, J. 2007. Heideggers frühes Bemühen um eine >Flüssigmachung der Scholastik< und
seine Zuwendung zu Johannes Duns Scotus. In Heidegger und die christliche Tradition, ed.
N. Fischer and F.-W. von Herrmann, 108–113. Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag.
Sherover, Ch.M. 1972. Heidegger, Kant & Time. Bloomington/London: Indiana Univeristy Press.
Steffen, Chr. 2005. Heidegger als Transzendentalphilosoph. Seine Fundamentalontologie im
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Norio Murai (Ph.D., Sophia University, Tokyo) is Professor at Chuo University, Tokyo. He is
author of The Possibilities of Human Studies (Chisen shokan, 2016 [Japanese]), Nietzsche:
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phenomenology and hermeneutics of Heidegger, the philosophies of Nietzsche, and the history of
western philosophy by Blumenberg.
Demystifying Roman Ingarden’s Purely
Intentional Objects of Perception
Genki Uemura
Abstract The aim of the present paper is to eliminate a seeming redundancy in

Roman Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality and, through this, provide a
modest and partial defense of his theory. I shall first argue that, contrary to an impres-
sion one might initially have, Ingarden’s notion of purely intentional objects of per-
ception is not superfluous; purely intentional objects of perception play a role as
representational contents. Second, I shall point out that Ingarden’s theory has some
merits that prove it to be worthy of serious and closer consideration for us today.
Keywords Ingarden · Perceptual experience · Intentionality · Intentional objects ·

Representational contents
1 Introduction
It is well known that the Polish phenomenologist Roman Ingarden extensively dis-
cusses intentional objects in the context of the ontology of fiction. He holds that
fictional characters such as Sherlock Holmes are purely intentional objects as
opposed to real objects. Since objects of the former kind, unlike those of the latter,
do not exist completely independently of us, this opposition between the two kinds
of objects amounts to a categorial difference between them. Purely intentional
objects make up an ontological category that is neither identical to nor reducible to
real objects. Such an idea has inspired attempts to accommodate our ordinary idea
that fictional characters do not exist in a certain sense but they nevertheless do exist
as something created by authors.1
Less well-known is the fact that Ingarden’s theory of purely intentional objects
has its origins, at least in part, in the problem of perceptual experience. We find one
of the earliest formulations of this theory in his talk on the objectivity of perception
See Thomasson (1999).

1
G. Uemura (*)
Graduate School of Humanities and Social Sciences, Okayama University, Okayama, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_11
140 G. Uemura
in May of 1923. According to him, if we stop ascribing unknowability to a thing in

itself, it is possible to distinguish it from the “merely intentional act-correlate” (cf.
RIGW 8: 26–27).2 The aim of the present chapter is to make sense of Ingarden’s
distinction between purely intentional and real objects in the context of the problem
of perceptual experience and to give a modest and partial defense for his theory.
The present chapter is structured as follows. After showing that Ingarden’s
straightforward argument in favor of his idea of purely intentional objects is not
convincing, in Sect. 2 I will suggest that his idea is cogent only if it is dialectically
superior to its rivals. In doing so, I will present some basic features of purely
intentional objects in so far as they are relevant to discussions of perceptual
experience. Section 3 will clarify the problem of the seeming superfluousness of
purely intentional objects of perception: they seem to play no substantial role in
veridical perceptual experience. I will also provide a solution to this problem by
showing that they function as representational content. Section 4 will list some
merits of Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality, the most important one
being that it shares advantages with the so-called intentionalism while avoiding a
certain problem that the latter faces. This is meant to constitute a modest and partial
defense of Ingarden’s theory. In my concluding remarks, I will briefly explain why
my defense is only modest and partial.
2 I ngarden’s (Problematic) Argument for Purely Intentional

Objects
As a respectful but disobedient student of Husserl, Ingarden advocates a system of

ontology that stands in sharp contrast with his teacher’s phenomenological idealism.
He attempts to carry out a project that is doomed to fail in the eyes of his teacher,
namely the explication of the structure of the autonomously existing world.3 At the
same time, Ingarden aims at overcoming phenomenological idealism rather than
simply putting it aside without argument. His ontology includes accounts of our
conscious life and the varieties of lived experience in it that are supposed to replace
Husserl’s transcendental-idealist phenomenology. It is safe to say that Ingarden’s
2
I do not hold that the problem of perceptual experience is the only context out of which Ingarden’s
discussions of purely intentional objects arose. By the summer of 1923, he completes his
Habilitationsschrift in Polish, which is published in German in 1925 under the title “Essentiale
Fragen” (cf. Mitscherling 1997, p. 18). In this work, Ingarden holds the numerical distinction
between these two types of objects in the context of the theory of judgment and questioning (cf. EF,
chapter 1).
3
Ingarden’s definition of autonomous existence is as follows: “An entity (in the sense of any some-
thing at all) exists autonomously (is existentially autonomous) if it has its external foundation
within itself”. In Ingarden’s system, autonomous existence, which is contrasted with heteronomous
existence, is further explicated in terms of three other pairs of existential independence/depen-
dence. See Simons (2005) for a detailed exposition of this.
Demystifying Roman Ingarden’s Purely Intentional Objects of Perception 141
ontology is properly characterized as a realist but still a phenomenological

ontology.4
Among Ingarden’s accounts of our conscious life, one concerning purely inten-
tional objects is arguably the most important. The adverb “purely” indicates that an
object of that sort is intentional (i.e., a target of intentional experience) by its
essence.5 This implies that any purely intentional object exists only dependently on
an intentional experience (or a set of such experiences); it would not have existed
apart from the correlated experience of it. Correspondingly, every intentional
experience has its purely intentional object. As a result, Ingarden holds that the
opposition between idealism and realism can be understood as an opposition over
“whether the real world and objectualities [Gegenständlichkeiten] in it are purely
intentional objects or something fundamentally different from them” (Streit II/1,
p. 174; see also RIGW 8: 25).6 According to his diagnosis, Husserl’s
phenomenological idealism amounts to the following claim: Any real object in the
world does not exist autonomously, because it is by its essence an intentional object
and such a purely intentional object in general do not exist autonomously.7
Being a phenomenological realist, Ingarden proposes a theory of intentionality
that, against Husserl, admits a difference in kind between purely intentional
objects on the one hand and real objects in the world on the other. According to
Ingarden’s theory, none of real object in the world is identical to a purely inten-
tional object, because an ontological category to which the latter belongs is
regarded as different from that (or those) of real objects. Therefore, his criticism
of his teacher would amount to the claim that Husserl’s phenomenological ideal-
ism, which identifies real objects with (some type of) purely intentional objects,
rests on a category mistake.
Ingarden attempts to justify the categorial distinction between the two types of
objects by pointing to two features—double-sidedness and indeterminacy—that are
peculiar to purely intentional objects but not to real objects (cf. Streit II/1, 210–224
4
Ingarden’s ontology could be characterized as phenomenological also by virtue of its strongly
descriptive or non-reductive tendency. See Chrudzimski (2004).
5
In the present paper, I confine myself to the original intentionality of experience, ignoring the
derivative intentionality possessed by linguistic signs etc., which plays an important role in
Ingarden’s theory of literary works of art. For the distinction between original and derivative inten-
tionality, see Galewicz (1994, pp. 9–10).
6
More precisely, Ingarden holds that idealism also consists in conceiving the world as a region of
objects, as an intentional object. Since I do not focus on the issue concerning idealism and realism,
I ignore the problem of the world for the sake of simplicity. For Ingarden’s ontological analysis of
the world, see Chapter XV of Streit II/2. See also Rynkiewicz (2008, pp. 409–412) for a
summery.
7
Such a formulation is of course not without textual evidence. In Ideen I, Husserl writes: “Reality,
the reality of a thing taken individually as well as the reality of the entire world, essentially dis-
penses (in our rigorous sense) with self-sufficiency. It is not in itself something absolute, binding
itself secondarily to something else; instead it is in the absolute sense nothing at all, it has no
“absolute essence,” it has the essential character of something that is in principle only intentional,
only relative to that of which it is conscious, that which presents itself and appears in accord with
consciousness” (Hua III/1, p. 106 [=Husserl 2014, pp. 90–91], our italics).
142 G. Uemura
[tr., vol. II, pp. 206–219]; see also Streit II/1, pp. 66–70 [tr., vol. II, pp. 77–81] and
LK, §20). Setting aside the definitions of those two notions for a while (they will be
given below in the present section), let us first see how his argument against Husserl
can be formulated:
1 . Every purely intentional object is double-sided and indeterminate. (Premise)
2. No real object is double-sided and indeterminate. (Premise)
3. x = y only if every property of x is a property of y and vice versa. (Leibniz’ Law)
4. Therefore, any purely intentional object is not numerically identical to a real
object. (From (1), (2) and the contraposition of (3))
In this section, I will show that the above argument is not convincing. Ingarden
certainly provides some reasons for (1) but when it comes to (2), he simply
presupposes it without any substantial argument. The claim made in premise (2) is
not at all intuitive or uncontentious. Moreover, even if this presupposition is correct,
a problem would remain. Ingarden’s move from (2), in conjunction with (1) and (3),
to (4) does not hold, because (3)—Leibniz’ Law—is not applicable in the present
case. Such a critical examination will serve also as a preparatory work for the next
sections.
2.1 D
ouble-Sidedness and Indeterminacy of Purely Intentional
Objects
To see how Ingarden argues for (1), it is necessary to clarify the ontological relation
he introduces which plays a fundamental role in his overall ontological framework.
Suppose that you are consciously looking for a chair to sit on. Then you have an
experience (or lived-experience [Erlebniss]) of looking for something.8 As is
suggested by the term something, this experience of yours is intentional and,
according to Ingarden’s theory, it has a purely intentional object. Now, there must
be a sense in which the purely intentional object of your experience is determined
as a chair. It is only by virtue of such a determination that a chair rather than a table,
for instance, is figuring in your experience. In this way, the purely intentional object,
which (partially) grounds the phenomenal feature of your experience (as looking for
a chair on which you could sit), is involved in the very structure of that experience
as a lived-experience. To put it differently, describing how the purely intentional
object is determined is part of describing what your experience is like. There is
another sense, however, in which the purely intentional object in question is not
determined as a chair. The mere presence of the purely intentional object in your
experience does not imply that there is a chair. Therefore, there are two ways in
which something is determined as a chair.
In what follows, I use “experience” only as a synonym of “lived-experience.”

8
Ingarden explicates these two ways of determination by means of two different

modes of property instantiation.9 As a phenomenological ontologist, he sticks to the
idea that to be determined as being thus and so is to instantiate a property (or a set
of properties). According to him, therefore, the mode in which the purely intentional
object in question instantiates the property of being a chair is different from the
mode in which a real physical object in your office, for instance, does. While the
latter is a chair in an ordinary or standard sense, the former “is” a chair only in a
modified or non-standard sense. In this way, Ingarden introduces the non-standard
property instantiation as a peculiar, irreducible ontological relation.10 For ease of
reference, let “to instantiate” and “to instantiate* [with an asterisk]” be abbreviations
of “to instantiate in the standard way” and “to instantiate in the non-standard way”
respectively. It is the non-standard property instantiation that makes it possible to
understand what Ingarden has in mind when he ascribes the two features to purely
intentional objects.
(a) Double-sidedness. Purely intentional objects are said to be double-sided,
because they can, and in fact do, instantiate a property in the standard way as well
as in the non-standard way. The purely intentional object of looking for a chair, to
continue with the above example, is a purely intentional object and is thus correlated
with your experience of looking for something in the usual sense, in which a real
object in the world is a chair. Just like real objects, our experiences, in which purely
intentional objects are involved, are part of the realm of being. Therefore, Ingarden
maintains, there is the (relational) property of being a purely intentional object (of a
certain experience) that is instantiated by every purely intentional object in the
standard way. Thus purely intentional objects are analyzed as consisting of two
sides: one side that instantiates* properties; the other that instantiates properties.
In Ingarden’s terminology, the former is called the “Content [Gehalt]” and the
latter is the “(intentional) structure” (cf. LK, pp. 123–124; Streit II/1: 216 [tr. vol. II,
p. 212]).11
(b) Indeterminacy. Purely intentional objects are said to be indeterminate,
because the law of excluded middle is not applicable to their Content. Let us take the
same example again. When looking for a chair to sit on, you have a purely inten-
tional object in your experience. While the purely intentional object is a chair in the
modified sense, you might not be able to determine whether it is made of oak, or
whether it is 8 kg in the same sense. In this sense, the Content of the purely inten-
tional object is (in the modified sense) indeterminate with regard to these material
9
In what follows I consider relations to be properties (in a wider sense) for the sake of simplicity.
10
In Ingarden’s own terminology, the non-standard instantiation is called “Aktualisierung,”
whereas the standard instantiation is called “Vereinzelung.” The terms the standard/non-standard
exemplifications, as well as the nomal/modified senses of to be, is taken from from Chrudzimski
(2015).
11
Because of the lack of any other suitable term than “content” in English, I translate “Inhalt” and
“Gehalt” to “content” and the capitalized “Content” respectively. Note that “The Content of a
purely intentional object is a content” would then not be trivial, just like the German sentence “Der
Gehalt des rein intentionalen Gegenstandes ist ein Inhalt” is not.
144 G. Uemura
properties and perhaps many other properties.12 This is quite obvious, especially if
you are looking for any chair to sit on whatsoever. In these cases, you typically do
not care about the type of wood, mass and so on of what you are looking for; what
matters for you is only whether it functions as a chair for you to sit on. Something
essentially the same holds true also in a case in which you are looking for a particu-
lar chair, for instance the chair in your room. Suppose further that you do not know
that your chair is made of, say, oak. Then, the following question would be indeter-
minate for you: “What kind of wood is the chair you are looking for made of?” This
means that the purely intentional object of your experience has Content that is inde-
terminate with regard to this material property. In this way, it is not the case that for
any F, an intentional object is either F or not F in the modified sense.
Note that the indeterminacy of purely intentional objects is not due to a defect in
your attentiveness. No matter how good you are at focusing on something, you
could not find what the purely intentional object is made of (in the modified sense),
unless you are looking for a chair made of a certain material. The Content of the
purely intentional object instantiates* only properties that figure in your experience
of looking for a chair. To describe that Content is to describe part of what your
experience in question is like.
An important consequence arising here is that the Content of purely intentional
objects can instantiate* an incompatible pair or n-tuple of properties (cf. LK: 129).
The property of being a regular polyhedron and the property of being a decahedron,
for instance, are incompatible. They cannot be instantiated by one and the same
object at the same time. It might happen, however, that someone who is not good at
geometry is consciously looking for a regular decahedron dice. According to
Ingarden’s theory, therefore, there must be a purely intentional object that
instantiates* the incompatible pair of properties: being a decahedron and being a
regular polyhedron. This could easily be generalized to n-tuple of incompatible
properties.
2.2 Are Real Objects Not Double-Sided and Indeterminate?
When it comes to the second premise of Ingarden’s argument—namely (2) No real

object is double-sided and indeterminate—, it is questionable whether or not this
premise is well grounded. Indeed, most philosophers with realist leanings would
presumably agree that real objects in the world are neither double-sided nor
indeterminate. Since both of those features are characterized only by reference to
intentional experience, they would not be ascribed to real objects, which are mind-
independent according to most (if not all) realists. However, in the present context,
the opposition between realism and idealism is at stake, and so to appeal to such an
opinion is simply question-begging.
12
Note that the term “material properties” here has only to do with something of which an artifact
is made of. In what follows I use the term exclusively in this ordinary, non-technical sense.
It is true that Ingarden himself might believe his claim to be free from question
begging. According to him, (2) holds by virtue of the essence of real objects.13 An
essence can be investigated without assuming that it has an actually existing
instance. Therefore, he maintains, the truth of (2) can be secured without taking a
position on the opposition between idealism and realism. This move is, however, far
from convincing. Husserl’s phenomenological idealism is not confined to the way in
which real objects actually exist. Rather, it concerns the mode of being that real
objects have by virtue of their essence.14 In favor of Husserl, therefore, one could
argue against (2), claiming that real objects are in truth double-sided and
indeterminate.15
2.3 Is the Application of Leibniz’ Law Legitimate?
There is another problem in Ingarden’s argument reformulated above. If realism is

presupposed, Ingarden may be able to provide support for (2). Even in this case,
however, the success of Ingarden’s argument as a whole is not guaranteed. For (3)
in the reformulated argument—Leibniz’ Law—is not applicable in the present case.
To see this, let us first consider the following example.16 Suppose that one day
Eddie saw a man running out of a bank with a large bag in his arms. Eddie believes
that man to be a bank robber. Let’s also suppose that, unbeknownst to Eddie, the
man he sees exiting the bank is in fact Eddie’s best friend. Thus Eddie does not
believe his best friend to be a bank robber. In this case, while the man Eddie saw has
the property of being believed to be a bank robber by Eddie, the Eddie’s best friend
does not. Now, Leibniz’s Law tells us that x = y only if every property of x is a
property of y and vice versa. Despite such a circumstance, however, it is certainly
inappropriate to say that (the contraposition of) Leibniz’ Law allows us to infer that
the man Eddie saw is not identical with the best friend of Eddie. The former is
numerically identical to the latter by supposition. The inapplicability of Leibniz
Law in the present case is due to the fact that the property in question, if it is
13
Ingarden’s analysis of purely intentional object in, on which my discussion is based, is part of
ontology as an investigation of essence. For this conception of ontology in Ingarden, see
Rynkiewicz (2008, pp. 354–359). For more critical and revisionary discussions, see Haefliger
(1994, pp. 89–100) and Chrudzimski (2004, pp. 132–140).
14
See the quotation from Ideen I in note 7 above.
15
Husserl himself would probably agree that real objects are double-sided and indeterminate, at
least if real objects are not numerically distinct of noemata. In Ideen I, Husserl unambiguously
claims that a noema consists of two strata: noematic sense and thetic character (cf. Hua III/1,
pp. 210–211 [=Husserl 2014, pp. 180–181]). Those two strata seem to correspond to the Content
and structure of purely intentional objects respectively. If this is true, noema would have indeter-
minacy in Ingarden’s sense, because some “predicates” that belong to the noematic meaning of a
noema are considered to be undetermined (cf. Hua III/1, p. 300 [=Husserl 2014, p. 259]).
16
This example is a modified version of the one given by Kim (2010, pp. 37–38). The term “inten-
tional properties” to appear below is also taken from him.
146 G. Uemura
instantiated by something, would imply the existence of a certain belief of Eddie.

Let us call such a property an “intentional property,” because the instantiation of it
implies the existence of an intentional state or experience, in this case belief. Then,
the conclusion we should draw from the above example is that intentional properties
are excluded from the properties quantified in Leibniz’ Law. Pointing to an intentional
property does not help us to differentiate something from something else.
Now, double-sidedness and indeterminacy are arguably sorts of intentional prop-
erties. For, if an object instantiates those properties, it is implied that there is an
intentional experience with which that object is correlated. To put it differently, the
object is double-sided in that it is the target of an intentional experience, and it is
indeterminate in that only a limited numbers of properties figure in the experience.
One might raise an objection here. As Ingarden claims, the being and qualification
of a purely intentional object is solely determined by the corresponding intentional
experience (cf. Streit II/1: 211, 217, 219–220). Thus, unlike ordinary objects such
as a chair or the man Eddie saw, purely intentional objects instantiate only intentional
properties. This strongly suggests that they are individuated by their intentional
properties alone: In the case of purely intentional objects, x = y if and only if every
intentional property of x is an intentional property of y and vice versa. Then, the
objector continues, intentional properties must be included in the properties quanti-
fied in Leibniz’ Law when it is applied to purely intentional objects.
My reply to this objection is that such an objection is question begging as well. I
agree that some purely intentional objects are individuated by their intentional
properties alone. Therefore, I also agree that we can differentiate two purely
intentional objects by pointing to differences in their intentional properties. All
those claims would be true, however, only if Ingarden is correct in holding that
purely intentional objects make up a peculiar ontological category that is distinct
from any real object. For someone like Crane (2001: 13–18; 2014, Chapter 6), for
instance, who denies that intentional objects are entities at all, it would make no
sense to follow Ingarden and talk about the individuation of intentional objects.
We can now conclude that Ingarden’s argument for the categorial difference
between purely intentional and real objects reformulated above is hardly convincing.
As my discussion so far has revealed, it is quite difficult for him to give support to
the second premise of his argument without presupposing realism, and it is precisely
realism that he aims to argue for by means of that categorial difference. This
reasoning is therefore circular. In addition, another key of the argument—Leibniz’
Law—is not applicable without begging the question. One way (and perhaps the
only way) that remains for Ingarden and his proponents is to present his theory of
intentionality as a promising hypothesis when it is compared with rival theories. In
this case, one could safely assume that realism is provisionally true and that purely
intentional objects make up a genuine ontological category. This is exactly what I
attempt to do in the sections that follow. From now on, therefore, I take it for granted
that those claims are true as part of the hypothesis.
3 The Role of Purely Intentional Object of Perception
The aim of this section is to present Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality as

a hypothesis, to which a modest and partial defense is given in Sect. 4. The problem
that I set up in Sect. 3.1 is this: When it comes to the intentionality of perceptual
experience, purely intentional objects seem superfluous. In order to argue for the
dialectical superiority of Ingarden’s theory, therefore, this seeming redundancy
must be dissolved in the first place. In Sect. 3.2, I deal with Chrudzimski’s account,
which almost gets rid of the redundancy in question. In Sect. 3.3, I attempt to pin
down what is still missing in from Chrudzimski’s reading of Ingarden. In Sect. 3.4,
I clarify what Ingarden, under the strong influence of Husserl, thinks of the nature
of perceptual intentionality: it is an empty component in perceptual experience as a
whole. In Sect. 3.5 with that clarification at hand, I provide an account that fills the
gap in Chrudzimski’s. In Sect. 3.6 I give some remarks on the suggested account in
order to avoid potential misunderstandings.
3.1 Setting up the Problem
Ingarden unambiguously holds that perceptual experience is intentional (RIGW 8:

4; Streit II/1: 195).17 He also seems to hold that the purely intentional object of your
experience of seeing a chair in front of you, for instance, is not identical with any of
the real chairs in the world. However, isn’t this claim exactly what Husserl criticizes
as a principle error in §43 of Ideen I, namely an error of believing that “perception
[…] does not get at the thing itself” (Hua III/1: 89 [=Husserl 2014: 76])? What is
troublesome here is that Ingarden himself emphasizes that intentionality makes our
perceptual experience directed to real objects in the world.18 In accordance with
this, Ingarden sometimes talks about the distinction between purely intentional
objects on the one hand and autonomously existing objects as “also intentional
[auch intentional]” objects on the other hand. While the former are essentially
targets of intentional experience, “[i]t is entirely accidental that the latter objectivities
[Gegenständlichkeiten] (if they exist at all) become targets [Treffpunkte] of conscious
acts and thus in a secondary manner become ‘also intentional’ objectivities” (LK,
p. 122 [tr. p. 117], my italics; see also Streit I: 82–83 [tr. vol I, pp. 113–114]).
The distinction between purely intentional and also intentional objects certainly
enables Ingarden to hold that ones’ seeing a tree is intentionally directed to a real
object that, if it exists, exists autonomously. In other words, if a perceptual experience
is veridical, there exists a real object in the world, which is contingently a target of
17
In the present paper, I assume with Ingarden and Husserl that perceptual experience is
intentional.
18
“Das, worauf sich die äußeren Wahrnehmungen […] beziehen, bildet ein System von
Gegenständen, das die ‘materielle Welt’ gennant wird” (RIGW 8, p. 50).
148 G. Uemura
that experience. It would then be unclear, however, what role purely intentional
objects play in perceptual experience. How do those objects contribute to the
intentionality of perceptual experience that opens us to the world in perceiving
something? If no substantial role is given to them, it would be the case that Ingarden’s
theory has a superfluous or redundant component. This would be a considerable
disadvantage for him, since non-redundancy or simplicity is one of the factors we
consider when we are determining which is most promising among competing
hypotheses. That is the problem on which I shall focus.
An idea one might immediately come to here is that purely intentional objects
are not redundant because they serve as ersatz targets of non-veridical perceptual
experiences.19 Suppose that you are hallucinating a chair. Being intentional, your
experience must have something as its target. Since, by definition, hallucinatory
perceptual experience has no corresponding real object in the world, nothing in the
world is identified with the target of your experience. Then, it might seem tempting
to say that the purely intentional object, which is a chair in the modified sense, is the
ersatz target of your experience.
As a brief consideration would reveal, however, such an idea does not work. It
fails to accommodate two interrelated points concerning the intentionality of
perceptual experience.
First, according to Ingarden, purely intentional objects are regarded as some-
thing necessitated by the presence of the corresponding intentional experiences of
any sort. Therefore, every veridical perceptual experience involves a purely inten-
tional object as well as a real one that is also intentional. What is the role of purely
intentional objects in veridical perceptual experiences? How do they contribute to
the fact that those experiences have real objects as targets? The idea at stake, which
tells us nothing about veridical cases, does not answer these two questions.
Second, there is a sense in which a perceptual experience has a real object as a
target regardless of whether it is veridical. If it is veridical, that consists in its
successfully hitting a target, as it were. Likewise, if it is not veridical, that is due to
the fact that it misses a target. Even in the latter case, the target at stake must be
something real. Otherwise, it would be unintelligible in what sense it misses the
target. Hence, the talk about veridicality or non-veridicality of a perceptual
experience makes sense only if the experience targets something real that, if the
experience is successful, exists in the world.20 In this way, the two questions above
concerning the role of purely intentional objects can be generalized to every
perceptual experience. To those generalized questions, however, no sufficient
answer would be provided by the idea that purely intentional objects of perception
are ersatz targets for non-veridical cases. Keeping silent with respect to veridical
19
This idea, it seems, is suggested by Thomasson when she writes: “typically the object of a hal-
lucinatory act is created by that act itself, whereas the object of a veridical perceptual act is just
picked out by that intentional act, not created by it”. (1999, p. 90).
20
This is exactly the reason why Ingarden inserts the phrase “if it [=a real object] exists” in paren-
theses when he characterizes real objects as something also intentional in the Literarishe
Kunstwerk. I owe this point to Galewicz (1994, p. 11).
cases, the idea conveys no information about the way in which purely intentional
objects serve their role in perceptual experience in general.
In this way, the idea that purely intentional objects of perception are ersatz tar-
gets for non-veridical cases would lead to the conclusion that those objects are
superfluous. In favor of Ingarden’s theory of intentionality, therefore, we must
provide a better account that gives a substantial role to purely intentional objects of
perception and, in doing so, elucidates how those objects contribute to the fact that
perceptual experiences have real objects as targets.
3.2 The Representational Role of Purely Intentional Objects
In some of his works on Ingarden, Arkadiusz Chrudzimski (1999: 109; 2005a: 101–
104; 2015) has proposed a more general account of purely intentional objects,
which gives them a substantial role.21 According to his account, purely intentional
objects realize a function as representational contents. Before seeing how
Chrudzimski fleshes out such an idea, let us clarify briefly how his account helps to
solve the problems I have just presented.
If purely intentional objects realize the function as representational content (or
the representational function for short), we could follow the strategy of so-called
intentionalism that assimilates perceptual experiences to beliefs (of a certain sort).22
The idea is that every perceptual experience is about real objects by representing the
world, just as some beliefs are about real objects in the same way. A belief about real
objects is representational in that it takes the world (or a part of it) to be thus and so.
In believing, say, that a chair in front of you right now is black, you take the world
to be such that it is the case that the chair in front of you right now is black. Likewise,
according to the intentionalist strategy, your seeing a chair, for instance, takes the
world to be such that the chair is in front of you at the moment you have that
perceptual experience.23 What is important here is that, construed in this way, every
perceptual experience would be regarded uniformly as having a real object as its
target, whether or not it is veridical. This is made intelligible if we consider the fact
that your belief is about a chair because its truth depends on whether the world of
real objects exists in the same way as it represents; it can be falsified only by the
way in which the world of real objects exists. In this sense, to generalize, a belief
can be about a real object whether or not it is true.
21
For a comprehensible defense of his account from a systematic point of view, see also
Chrudzmiski (2015). Note that in those works, Chrudzimski’s account is confined to purely inten-
tional objects of nominal acts or experiences, which include not only presentation [Vorstellung] but
also perception.
22
See Fish (2010, chaper 5) for a concise overview of intentionalism. Note that, as will be empha-
sized in Concluding Remarks, Ingarden’s position is not solely intentionalist.
23
This might not be the complete description of how your experience of seeing a chair represents
the world, but it would probably suffice for the illustration of the idea at stake.
150 G. Uemura
Now, according to Chrudzimski’s account, the purely intentional object of an

intentional experience functions as the representational content of the same experi-
ence, because the former determines what is often equated with the latter: the condi-
tion of satisfaction of that experience.24 As we have already introduced the distinction
between the standard and non-standard modes of property instantiation, it is not
difficult to see Chrudzimski’s point. Generally speaking, the condition of satisfac-
tion of an intentional experience is a condition under which that experience is suc-
cessful (i.e., true in the case of belief; veridical in the case of perception; realized or
carried out in the case of volition, and so on). Then, we can provide a general defini-
tion of the condition of satisfaction as follows:
(CS) An intentional experience is satisfied or successful if and only if there is a real
object such that it instantiates every property that the corresponding purely
intentional object instantiates*.
In short, a purely intentional object functions as a representational content by
instantiating* all the properties represented in the relevant experience.
Chrudzimski’s account gains some textual evidence from a passage in the Streit
um die Existenz der Welt, in which Ingarden characterizes cognizing acts
[Erkenntnisakte] (i.e., acts that aims at gaining some knowledge) as acts that would
be successful if and only if their intentional objects correspond to real objects in the
world.25 Unfortunately, Ingarden does not tell us much about what the correspondence
between two items amounts to. Nevertheless, we can judge that Chrudzimski is
correct in elucidating the correspondence between two types of objects by means of
the standard and non-standard modes of property instantiation. In 1925, Ingarden
characterizes the correspondence between the two types of object in the case of acts
of judgment:
From this merely [=purely] intentional states of affairs, one must distinguish the objective
state of affairs that exists independently of the cognizing subject and the judgment sentence.
24
See Searle (1983, pp. 10–11) for the locus classicus of this equation.
25
Chrudzimski (1999, p. 107, 2005a, p. 102) only refers to the page number of the work, but in all
likelihood has he following sentence in mind: “Sie [=Erkenntnisakte] erfüllen ihren Zweck und
erweisen ihre Seinsberechtung dann und nur dann, wenn es dem Bewusstseinssubjekt in ihrem
Vollzug gelingt, diese Deckung […] zu erreichen [They fulfill their purpose and demontrate the
legitimacy of their existence if and only if in excercising them the subject of consciousness suc-
ceeds in attaining this coincidence].” (Streit II/1, p. 206 [tr., vol. II, p. 202]). Elsewhere he quotes
the following passage from the Literarische Kunstwerk: “Das intentional geschaffene Ding “ist”—
im strengen, seinsautonomen Sinne—z.B. nicht “rot”. Damit es das sein könnte, müßte es eine
echte Realisation der Wesenheit “Röte” in sich reell enthalten. Gerade dieses reelle Enthaltensein,
dieses Immanentsein der Realisation einer idealen Wesenheit in einer Gegenständlichkeit und
andererseits auch diese Realisation selbst vermag der reine Bewußtseinsakt nicht hervorzubringen.
Es bleibt immer nur bei dem früher beschriebenen vortäuschenden Quasi-Enthaltensein und bei
der Quasi-Realisation, die einerseits auf das intentionale sic iubeo des Bewußtseinssubjektes,
andererseits auf die entsprechende ideale Wesenheit zurückweist” (LK, p. 388 quoted in
Chrudzimski 2004, p. 131, n14). However, I do not find this textual evidence to be decisive. Here
we may well understand Ingarden as merely taking about the difference, rather than the correspon-
dence, between purely intentional and real objects.
The objective state of affairs becomes the object of judgement, if the remarkable relation of
identification holds between it and the objectum formale [=purely intentional object] of a
certain judgment; this relation must hold with regard to all the moments of [purely]
intentional object—except its merely intentional structure of being. But it need not hold
with regard to all the moments of the objective states of affairs. (EF, p. 5).26
Some interpretative work is needed here, as Ingarden’s theory of intentionality was

still under development at the time this was written.27 First, for the sake of simplicity,
let us conflate states of affairs [Sachverhalten], which Ingarden introduces when he
talks about acts of judgment and other propositional acts, with (“nominal”) objects.
The difference between them, which would be absolutely crucial if we are to focus
on Ingarden’s theory of judgment,28 can be ignored in the present context. What
matters us here is the case of perceptual experiences alone. Then, his idea would be
that an act of judgment is true if and only if there is a real object such that all the
moments of the purely (here, merely) intentional objects of the act is identifiable
with some of the moments of that real object. It is not perfectly clear what Ingarden
has in mind when he talks about moments. There are two possibilities, but they both
lead to the same conclusion. First we can interpret “moments” in the Husserlian
sense, in which it means particularized and non-repeatable properties (or tropes, to
put it in the contemporary jargon).29 In this case, the identity between moments
must be understood as the qualitative identity rather than the numerical identity.
Otherwise, the numerical distinction between purely intentional and real objects
could not be kept. Considering the plain fact that Ingarden is a decided realist
concerning universals (in his terminology, “pure qualities [reine Qualitäten]”), we
are absolutely sure that Ingarden would take the qualitative identity between two or
more particularized properties to be grounded in the numerical identity of the
relevant property as universal. Second, we can interpret “moments” as universal
26
In German: “Von diesem bloß [=rein] intentionalen Sachverhalt muß man den objektiven
Sachverhalt unterscheiden, der unabhängig von dem Erkenntnissubjekte und dem Urteilssatze
existiert. Er wird zum Gegenstande des Urteils, wenn zwischen ihm und dem objectum formale
eines bestimmten Urteils die merkwürdige Beziehung der Identifizierung besteht; sie muß hinsich-
tlich aller Momente des intentionalen Urteilsgegenstandes—außer seinem bloß intentionalen
Seinsstruktur—bestehen, braucht aber nicht notwendig zu bestehen aller Momente des objektiven
Sachverhalts.”
27
As is obvious in the above quote, the terminology in 1925 is slightly different from the one estab-
lished in the Literarische Kunstwerk (LK); instead of “purely intentional objects,” for instance,
Ingarden uses “merely [bloß] intentional objects.” In addition, Essentiale Fragen contains a pas-
sage in which he seems to deny that purely intentional objects fall under a peculiar ontological
category, if, just as in his later works, he regards fictive objects as a sort of purely intentional
objects: “Sie [=die fiktive Gegenstände] exitieren aber nicht. Es gibt bloß […] Vorstellungen bzw.
Unanschauliche Meinungen von ihnen” (EF, p. 180).
28
Ingarden’s formulation of the correspondence between two types of states of affairs is drastically
modified in the Streit um die Existenz der Welt (cf. Streit II/1, §53). There he denies the ontological
autonomy of negative states of affairs, which would be admitted if he adopts the formulation of the
correspondence in Essentiale Fragen. Further on Ingarden’s later theory of states of affairs, see
Chrudzimski (2010, 2012).
29
See Simons (1994, esp. pp. 553–557) for the notion of tropes and their presence in Husserl.
152 G. Uemura
and repeatable properties. Then, the identity between moments could be under-
stood straightforwardly as the numerical identity between the properties as
universals.30
3.3 The Problem with Chrudzimski’s Account
As far as its application to perceptual experiences is concerned, the core idea of

Chrudzimski’s account is quite promising. The role of purely intentional objects of
perception is captured well by the notion of representational content. At the same
time, however, Chrudzimski’s account is not fully adequate if we consider a point
concerning the experience of reading a fiction, which seems basic for Ingarden’s
theory. Since this contains some philosophically important insights, supplementing
the inadequacy would enhance Chrudzimski’s account not only exegetically but
also systematically.
Contrary to what is suggested by Chrudzimski,31 Ingarden holds that purely
intentional objects do not always realize their representational function. In his
analysis of the experience of reading a work of fiction, for instance, he explicates
the intentionality of that experience only with purely intentional objects (cf.
Ingarden 1931, Chapter 7). According to him, objects that we usually attend to
when we read a work of fiction (in Ingarden’s term: “dargestellte
Gegenständlichkeiten”), namely fictional characters, their “fate” and the fictional
world to which they belong, are purely intentional objects. In this case, those objects
are considered to be targets in the same sense in which real objects are targets of
perceptual experience. Hence, purely intentional objects do not realize the
representational function in the experience of reading fiction.
It is also possible to present a similar case from a systematic point of view. Let
us suppose that you are visually imagining a chair in front of you with your eyes
closed. There is a purely intentional object that instantiates in the non-standard way
properties that figure in your imaginative experience. Further suppose that a chair,
which instantiates in the standard way all the properties the purely intentional object
instantiates in the non-standard way, happens to actually exist in front you. If the
purely intentional object realizes the representational function in this case, your
imaginative experience would be veridical. But that seems nonsensical, because
(pure) imagination should not be evaluated in terms of veridicality (or accuracy). In
other words, our experience of imaging something does not have a condition of
satisfaction. In an experience of this sort, there is no other target than a purely
intentional object.
30
In the present paper except this paragraph, I have been and will be using the term “properties”
only in the sense of universals
31
Chrudzimski is in fact aware of this problem. See Churdzimski 1999, p. 109, note 328.
Regrettably, I do not deal with this issue, since, for linguistic reasons, I could not consult a paper
of his he cited due to the fact that it was written in Polish.
All those considerations suggest that purely intentional objects do not in and by
themselves realize the representational function, both according to Ingarden’s
writings and from a systematic point of view. An experience must have something
additional in order that its purely intentional object functions as a representational
content. Specifying the range of the problem, now we can pose a question anew:
What counts as such an additional factor in perceptual experience?
3.4 The Nature of Perceptual Intentionality
To pin down the additional factor indicated above in perceptual experience, it is

necessary to deal with a strand of Ingarden’s theory that has received little attention
in the previous discussions in this chapter. We must now explicate what he takes the
nature of perceptual intentionality to be. Since Ingarden is strongly influenced by
(the early) Husserl in this regard, I draw heavily on the teacher to fill the gaps in the
student’s treatment of this matter.
An insight that Ingarden inherits from his teacher is that perceptual experience is
something more than merely having a sensation. As Husserl writes: “I do not see
color sensations but colored things. I do not hear tone-sensations but the singer’s
song etc.” (Hua XIX/1: 387 [=Husserl 2001, vol. II: 99]). In seeing a chair in front
of you, you are presented not only with one side of the chair that is given in a
sensory or intuitive way but also with the chair as a whole with many other sides. It
is the chair as a whole, rather than the front side of it, that you are seeing. Thus,
there must be a sense in which you are aware of those sides that are not intuitively
seen.
To accommodate this, Husserl analyzes perceptual experience in terms of two
factors (cf. Hua XIX/1: 397; XIX/2: 610). On the one hand, Husserl holds that a
perceptual experience contains sensational contents, by virtue of which it is an
intuitive experience (cf. Hua XIX/2: 590). Thus he calls them “intuitive contents”
(Hua XIX/2: 589). On the other hand, he holds that perceptual experience contains
non-sensory, non-intuitive factors that make the experience transcend what is
intuitively given in it. The interplay between those two factors in is further explicated
as “apprehension” or “interpretation” [Auffassung] of the former by the latter (cf.
Hua XIX/2: 621).32
Of those two factors, the non-intuitive one called “intention” is what Husserl
regards as the vehicle of intentionality in perceptual experience (cf. Hua XIX/2:
572–573). Taken separately (in abstraction), the intention in a perceptual experience
is necessarily empty.33 What is important here is that the empty intention is thought
32
It is not easy to determine what this apprehension amounts to, but the following discussion is
neutral with regard to a main point of dispute among interpreters of Husserl: Whether or not the
apprehension involves the actualization of our conceptual faculty. See Mooney (2010) for an over-
view of the debate.
33
In the Logische Untersuchungen, Husserl uses the term “signitive intention” to refer to the empty
intention in perceptual experience (cf. Hua XIX/2, pp. 594–595).
154 G. Uemura
to belong to perceptual experience as such. Husserl refuses to understand the empty

intention by means of any non-perceptual experience such as expectation, judgment
and imagination.34
Now, as far as perceptual intentionality is concerned, Ingarden is, for the most
part, faithful to Husserl. He agrees with his teacher’s claim that perceptual
intentionality is necessarily non-intuitive or empty. For, according to him,
intentionality in general is necessarily non-intuitive.35 He further agrees that
perceptual experience consists in the apprehension of a sensational content by
means of an empty intention (cf. RIGW 8: 15). Therefore, it is the non-intuitive
awareness of an object as a whole in perceptual experience that Ingarden attempts
to explicate by means of purely intentional objects of perception.
3.5 Ingarden’s Projective Account of Perceptual Intentionality
Thanks to the discussion in the previous subsection, it is now easier to see how
Ingarden explains the way in which a purely intentional object of perception
functions as a representational content. In short, his idea is that the purely intentional
object of a perceptual experience realizes the representational function because the
properties it instantiates in the non-standard way is projected onto the world. Such
an interpretation is available through the reconstruction of a discussion of Ingarden
in § 47 of the Streit II/1.
As Ingarden himself admits, “it is not easy to unveil this object [=a purely inten-
tional object of perception] distinctively and to contrast it sharply with the radically
transcendent object which is given as ‘real’” (Streit II/1, p. 201 [tr., vol. II, p 197],
translation modified).36 To show that those two objects are distinguished, therefore,
Ingarden presents the following example.
For example, we let our fantasy reign free on the basis of a sensory perception: we contem-
plate a swarm of light clouds in the sky and begin to “inscribe” various figures “into” some
of the cloud-patches. We then “see” a ship surrounded by a fleet of boats drawing close to
the shore of a lagoon. We exploit the shapes of the just-seen actual clouds and cloud-patches
34
See Mulligan (1995, pp. 193–194) for details of Husserl’s argument. Mulligan thereby points out
that “Husserl does not characterize positively the awareness in perception of the invisible side of
the house” (1995, p. 194). To this remark, however, we can raise an objection. What is at stake here
is, in a certain sense, something absent from perceptual experience; there is a sense in which the
invisible side of, say, the house is missing in the perceptual experience. Given this, and given the
fact that it is no use for Husserl to appeal to non-perceptual experiences that are known to us (such
as judgment, expectation and imagination) in the present context, the emptiness of perceptual
intentionality can and must be understood as the best available positive characterization of our
awareness of the invisible side.
35
Ingarden claims that the Content of a purely intentional object is determined by the non-intuitive
content of the corresponding experience (cf. Streit II/2, pp. 211, 217, 219–220).
36
In German: “Es ist aber nicht leicht, diesen Gegenstand zur distinkten Enthüllung zu bringen und
ihn dem radical transzendenten, als “real” gegebenen Gegenstande der Wahrnehmung scharf
gegenüberzustellen.”
in order to project other shapes on their basis, whereby some portion of the clouds get
rounded-out, others get trimmed or dimmed, and yet some others ignored altogether, and
then we read into these newly-formed figures a completely new objectual sense: it is no
longer a cloud, but a “ship,” and no longer the lighter parts of the clouds, but rather “bulging
sails”. (Streit II/1, pp. 201–202 [tr. vol. II, 198], translation modified, our emphases).37
As we can easily see, this passage needs some interpretive reconstruction. What
must be clarified in the first place are the meanings of “figures [Gestalten]” and “to
project [entwerfen].” Concerning the former, a hint for such clarification can be
found in a passage slightly after the above quotation. There Ingarden claims that the
objects we are “seeing,” namely the ship, boats and so on, are “‘in themselves’
nothing — and yet somehow endowed with properties.” (Streit II/1, p. 202 [tr., vol.
II, p. 198]).38 Given this, it would be plausible to understand figures as properties.
With this clarification, the latter also would be intelligible. The ship, boats and so
on would then be somehow endowed with properties (being a ship, being directed
to the shore and so on) thanks to the projection [Entwerfung] of those properties.
They appear to be instantiated by real objects by virtue of the fact that they are
projected onto the realm of real objects, namely real space.
Now, as Ingarden points out (cf. Streit II/1: 202), the case in the above example
can be regarded as an example of an illusory perceptual experience. Because our
fantasy is sometimes too wild, we could visually misperceive the clouds as real
objects in the sky as a ship, boats and so on. In other words, we mistakenly project
some properties to those objects. (We will deal with what such a mistake consists in
soon.) Note that we thereby could have the knowledge that we have an illusory
experience right now. Even in that case, however, the experience of illusorily seeing
the ship, the boats and so on would remain the same: They look to be real objects.
To see this, just remember the case of the Müller-Lyer illusion. We know that the
two lines are of the same length but one still looks longer than the other. In so far as
such lookings remain the same, the phenomenal feature of the perceptual experiences
would also remain the same.
In the present case, just like in the Müller-Lyer case, we could make a series of
true judgments about what we are (illusorily) seeing (cf. Streit II/1: 202). We could
correctly judge, for instance, that one of the objects we are (illusorily) seeing as real
is a ship, which has two white sails and is surrounded by boats; and that the ship that
looks real, together with its properties that look to be instantiated by a real object,
37
In German: “Wir lassen, z.B. unsere Phantasie frei auf dem Untergrunde einer sinnlichen
Wahrnehmung walten: wir betrachten eine Schar leichter Wolken am Himmel und beginnen, in
einzelne Wölkchen verschiedene Gestalten “einzuzeichnen”. Wir “sehen” dann z.B. ein Schiff, von
einer Schar Kähne umgeben, sich dem Ufer einer Meeresbucht nähern. Wir nützen die Gestalten
der “wirklichen”, soeben gesehenen Wolken und Wölkchen, um auf ihrem Untergrund andere
Gestalten zu entwerfen, wobei manches an den Wolken abgerundet wird, manches abgeschnitten
oder verdunkelt, ein anderes aber überhaupt übersehen, und dann deuten wir in diese neugeformten
Gestalten einen durchaus neuen gegenständlichen “Sinn” hinein: es ist keine Wolke mehr, sondern
ein “Schiff”, und keine helleren Teile der Wolke, sondern “aufgebauschte Segel” und dgl. mehr.”
38
In German: “[S]ie [sind] eigentlich “an sich” ein Nichts und doch irgendwie mit Eigenschaften
ausgestattet.”
156 G. Uemura
would disappear as we (manage to) stop our (spontaneous) imagination. It is obvious

that those judgments are different in an important way. Judgments like the former
concern properties that look or seem to be instantiated by real objects but in fact are
only instantiated* by purely intentional objects. In contrast, judgments like the
latter concern that which Ingarden calls the “structure” of purely intentional objects.
In this way, according to Ingarden, we can distinguish a purely intentional object of
perception from a real object when we have an illusory perceptual experience with
the knowledge that it is illusory.
Even though Ingarden himself is not entirely clear about this point, it is possible
to extend his account of illusory perceptual experience to perceptual experience in
general. Otherwise, the case he presented could not be a clue to the distinction
between purely intentional and real objects in perception as such. Then, Ingarden’s
idea could be formulated as follows: All the properties that a real object looks to
instantiate in a perceptual experience are in fact instantiated* by the purely
intentional object of that experience; they looks so because they are projected onto
the realm of real object.
What is crucial for us is that the projection at stake here meets the veridicality
condition. The projection is veridical if and only if there is a real object that
instantiates all the properties projected onto the realm of real objects. To repeat,
those properties, which make up the veridicality condition, are in fact instantiated*
by the purely intentional object. In this way, therefore, the projection enables that
object to realize the representational function. Thus, the following formulation of
Ingarden’s theory is obtained.
A perceptual experience is intentional, because
(i) it has a purely intentional object, and
(ii) all the properties instantiated* by that object are projected on the realm of real
objects.
3.6 Some Remarks on the Projection and Projected Properties
To avoid potential misunderstandings, I shall make some remarks on Ingarden’s

theory of perceptual intentionality just formulated. The projection of properties, by
virtue of which a perceptual experience is intentional, should not be understood as
a sort of intentional action. Generally speaking, perceptual experiences have the
mind-to-world direction of fit, while intentional action has the world-to-mind
direction of fit (cf. Searle 1983: 7–8, 88). It is true that the projection in perceptual
experience has the world-to-mind direction in a broad sense. It brings about
something in the world, if we take the world to contain purely intentional objects
and their properties projected onto it. What is at stake in perceptual experience,
however, is to bring about an intentional object that fits to the way the world actually
is. The projection is successful in this sense only if all the projected properties are
instantiated in the world in the same way as they are projected. Hence, the direction
of fit that matters in perceptual experience is mind to world.
Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality may well be called a “projective”
theory, but it is different from what is commonly understood by the same title in
philosophy of perception. The basic idea of the projective theory in the latter sense
is that sensory qualities of perceptual experience (in the case of the visual perception,
colors) are intrinsic qualities of that experience, which are projected to a region of
(egocentric) space (cf. Baldwin 1992: 184–185). In contrast, Ingarden’s projective
theory has three peculiar features to which the standard projective theory would not
agree. First, in Ingarden’s theory, the projection explicates the nature of the
intentionality, namely non-sensory awareness involved in perceptual experience.
Projected properties, therefore, do not contribute to the sensory characteristics of
perceptual experience. Second, the projected properties are not confined to sensory
qualities such as colors. They include not only so-called secondary qualities but also
primary qualities. In addition, they may include even “higher” properties such as
sortal properties.39 The non-sensory awareness concerns varieties of properties that
are instantiated by a real object as a whole. Third, Ingarden would not agree to the
claim that projected properties are not actually instantiated by real objects in the
world. Rather, according to him, in the case of veridical perceptual experience, the
projected properties are not only instantiated* by the purely intentional experience
of that experience but also instantiated by a real object (or a set of such objects) in
the world.
4 A Modest and Partial Defense of Ingarden’s Theory
I have shown that Ingarden’s notion of purely intentional objects of perception,

which might seem superfluous at a first glance, in fact plays a substantial role in
accounting for perceptual experience. Objects of that sort realize a function as
representational contents. This does not imply, however, that Ingarden’s theory of
perceptual intentionality is dialectically superior to rivals. Non-redundancy is only
a necessary condition, among many others, of the best (available) theory. To defend
Ingarden’s theory, therefore, we have to present its merits.
A merit of Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality is that it shares a strong
advantage with intentionalism. Intentionalism provides a uniform account of how a
perceptual experience is about a real object in the world independently of the
veridicality of that experience. In order for, say, a chair to be perceptually experienced
39
In the present paper, I have been assuming that sortal properties (for instance, the property of
being a chair) can be the content of perceptual experience. This is indeed a disputable assumption,
but I make it only for the sake of a simpler exposition of Ingarden’s theory. The most important part
of Ingarden’s theory, namely the projective account of perceptual intentionality would remain the
same even if the range of the projected properties are limited to lower properties. See Siegel (2006)
for further on the view that higher properties can be the content of perceptual experience.
158 G. Uemura
as something real, the property of being a chair need not be actually instantiated by
a real object. What is needed is only that the property of being chair is represented
as being instantiated (cf. Fish 2010: 78–79). The difference between Ingarden’s
theory and intentionalism is that the former further explicates the representation in
terms of the projection of properties: The property of being a chair is represented as
being instantiated in the realm of real objects, because it is not only instantiated* by
the relevant purely intentional object but also projected on that realm. Of course, an
analogy with a better-known and better-established position has some limits.
Ingarden’s theory has at least three features that are not found in intentionalism.
First, Ingarden’s theory can dispense with representational contents as entities
per se.40 Thus, his theory need not posit representational contents in addition to
purely intentional objects of perception, because the latter, in conjunction with
projection, do the job for the former. In this way, Ingarden’s theory succeeds
in locating representational contents in the structure of perceptual experience. In
contrast, proponents of intentionalism are typically committed to the claim that the
representational contents of perceptual experiences are propositions. What are,
then, propositions? Three major candidates are available here: Russellian
propositions as complexes of objects and properties (or properties alone); Fregean
propositions as modes of presentation; and propositions as sets of possible worlds
(cf. Fish 2010: 71–73). All those candidates seem to face a difficulty when it comes
to the location of representational contents in the structure of perceptual experiences.
What is the connection between a perceptual experience as a concrete entity and a
proposition, which is an abstract entity according to any of those candidates?41
Second, Ingarden’s theory is able, at least in a special way, to cohere with the
so-called phenomenal principle, which is denied by (standard versions of)
intentionalism. The phenomenal principle is formulated as follows: “If there
sensibly appears to a subject to be something which possesses a particular sensible
quality then there is something of which the subject is aware which does possess
that quality” (Robinson 1994, p. 32 quoted in Fish 2010, p. 6). This seems to capture
an important aspect of perceptual experience, because it is plausible that properties
figuring in a perceptual experience are experienced as something actually
instantiated. Now, Ingarden would be able to accommodate the phenomenal
principle in terms of the non-standard property instantiation. According to his
theory, for any perceptual experience there is a purely intentional object that
instantiates* properties figuring in that experience.
40
In fact, Ingarden seems to admit representational content in addition to purely intentional objects
under the title “non-intuitive contents.” As Chrudzmski (2005a, pp. 106–112; 2015) argues, non-
intuitive contents are a superfluous component of Ingarden’s theory, which he should not have
accepted.
41
This is a version of what Barry Smith (1989, p. 163) calls the “linkage problem”: What is the
relation between propositions as linguistic meanings and propositional attitudes in which they are
“grasped”? It is noteworthy that Michael Dummett’s reply to this problem is not applicable in the
present context (cf. Dummett 1992, pp. 63–64). Since no language is involved in perceptual expe-
rience as such, one cannot appeal to language, as Dummett does, as our only access to meaning or
content.
Third, unlike intentionalism, Ingarden’s theory does not explicate the phenome-
nal character of a perceptual experience by means of intentionality alone. According
to him, intentionality contributes to only a part of that character, which consists in
the empty intention involved in the experience; the rest of the phenomenal character
is due to sensational contents of the experience. It is beyond my present aim, how-
ever, to present such an idea as a merit of Ingarden’s theory. For the moment, we
should be content with a quick overview. Ingarden’s idea that a perceptual experi-
ence consists of two factors can be advantageous, because it enables us to provide a
good account of the perceptual constancy. A colored thing may appear differently
in a perceptual experience, depending on the condition of light. For instance, a
white paper appears differently to you as the color of light switches from white to
pink. Even in that case, however, the color of the thing would not seem different.
You would have an experience of seeing one and the same white paper during the
change in the light condition. To this phenomenon, Ingarden would give the follow-
ing explanation: The object of the perceptual experience remains the same in so far
as it has the same purely intentional object, while the way it appears changes in
accordance with the difference in sensational content.42 The simplicity and
straightforwardness of such an account could be characterized as a merit of
Ingarden’s theory, if a more detailed account and its defense are given.
5 C
oncluding Remarks: The (Ontological) Cost for Purely
Intentional Object of Perception
I have argued that Ingarden’s theory of perceptual intentionality has three (or four)
merits. In conclusion, I shall offer a short remark on the cost we have to pay to get
those merits. This will suggest what needs to be done in order to defend Ingarden’s
theory in a stronger and more comprehensive way.
Needless to say, the introduction of new entities called purely intentional objects
is not a cheap option from an ontological point of view. Ingarden considers purely
intentional objects as products of our intentional experience. It is quite difficult,
however, to further analyze the production or creation of purely intentional objects.
Rather, perhaps I have to regard it as primitive. In addition, the cost of Ingarden’s
theory must also include the introduction of the non-standard property instantiation
as a primitive ontological relation. It is indispensable in order to explain the double-
sidedness and indeterminacy of purely intentional objects.
Now, is such a cost worth paying? Should we accept purely intentional objects of
perception as they are conceived by Ingarden? Making an ontological decision is
indeed not a simple task. Those who employ the principle of parsimony in ontology
42
Madary (2010) proposes a detailed account of how Husserl’s theory well accommodates the
perceptual constancy (recall that Ingarden’s idea stems from Husserl). See also Millar (2011)
Williford (2013) for attempts to defend the Husserlian view that perceptual experience has non-
intentional, sensational components.
160 G. Uemura
would think that the introduction of two primitive notions is too high a cost, while
others like Ingarden with a more descriptive tendency would not.
What must be emphasized is that Ingarden’s notion purely intentional objects in
general has a far wider range of application. It is applied not only to the theory of
perceptual intentionality but also to the theory of judgment,43 the theory of question
(cf. EF, chaper 1) and, most importantly, the theory of fictional characters (cf. LK).
Therefore, even if the cost is too pricy to buy the three (or four) merits just pointed
out, we may well expect further merits in expanding Ingarden’s theory of purely
intentional objects beyond the case of perceptual experience. Carrying out the
expansion of the theory, which would lead to a stronger and more comprehensible
defense of Ingarden, is indeed one of the future tasks for proponents of Ingarden.
That is the reason why the defense I have provided in the present paper is only
modest and partial.
References
Works by Ingarden
EF=Ingarden, Roman. 1925. “Essentiale Fragen. Ein Beitreag zum Wesensproblem.” Reprented in
his Über das Wesen, P. McCormick (ed.). Heidelberg: Karl Winder, 2007.
LK=Ingarden, R. 1931/72. Das literarische Kunswerk. 4th edition, Tübingen: Max Niemeyer.
(English translation: Roman IngardenThe Literary Work of Art. G. G. Grabowicz (tr.), Evanston
(Ill.): Northwestern University Press, 1973.)
Streit=Ingarden, Roman. 1964/65. Der Streit um die Existenz der Welt. 2 volumes, Tübingen: Max
Niemeyer. (English translation: Roman Ingarden, Controversy Over the Existence of the World,
2 vols, A. Szylewicz (tr.), Frankfurt a. M.: Peter Lang, 2013/2016.)
RIGW=Ingarden, Roman. 1992ff. Gesammelte Werke. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer.
Works by Husserl
Hua=Husserl, Edmund. 1950ff. Husserliana. Edmund Husserl Gesammelte Werke, Den Haag
et al.: Martinus Nijhoff/Kluwer/Springer.
Husserl, Edmund. 2001. Logical Investigations. New Edition. Trans. J.N. Findlay and Ed. Dermot
Moran. New York: Routledge.
———. 2014. Ideas for a Pure Phenomenology and Phenomenological Philosophy. First
Book: General Introduction to Pure Phenomenology. Trans. D.O. Dahlstrom. Indianapolis/
Cambridge: Hackett.
43
See note 25 above.
Other Works
Baldwin, Thomas. 1992. The Projective Theory of Sensory Content. In The Contents of Experience.
Essay on Perception, ed. Tim Crane, 177–195. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Chrudzimski, Arkadiusz. 1999. Die Erkenntnistheorie von Roman Ingarden. Dordrecht: Kluwer.
———. 2004. Roman Ingarden. Ontology from a Phenomenological Point of View. Reports on
Philosophy 22: 121–142.
———. 2005a. Brentano, Husserl und Ingarden über die intentionale Gegenstände. In Chrudzmski
2005b, 83–114.
———. 2005b. Existence, Culture, and Persons. The Ontology of Roman Ingarden. Frankfurt a.
M.: Ontos.
———. 2010. Composed Objects, Internal Relations, and Purely Intentional Negativity. Ingarden’s
Theory of States of Affairs. Polish Journal of Philosophy IV(2): 63–80.
———. 2012. Negative States of Affairs. Reinach versus Ingarden. Symposium: Canadian Journal
of Continental Philosophy 16 (2): 106–127.
———. 2015. Intentional Objects and Mental Contents. Brentano Studien XIII: 81–119.
Crane, Tim. 2001. Elements of Mind. An Introduction to Philosophy of Mind. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
———. 2014. Aspects of Psychologism. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Unversity Press.
Dummett, Michael. 1992. Origins of Analytical Philosophy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
Fish, William. 2010. Philosophy of Perception. A Contemporary Introduction. New Yotk:
Routledge.
Galewicz, Wlodzimierz. 1994. Das Problem des Seinsstatus der gegenständlichen Sinne und
Ingardens Ontologie der rein intentionalen Gegenstände. In Kunst und Ontology. Für Roman
Ingarden zum 100. Geburtstag, ed. Wlodzimierz Galewicz, Elisabeth Ströker, and Wladyslaw
Strozewski, 5–19. Amsterdam: Rodopi.
Madary, Michael. 2010. Husserl on Perceptual Constancy. European Journal of Philosophy 20
(1): 145–165.
Kim, J. 2010. Philosophy of Mind. 3rd ed. Boulder: Westview Press.
Millar, Boyd. 2011. Sensory Phenomenology and Perceptual Content. The Philosophical Quarterly
61 (244): 558–576.
Mittscherling, Jeff. 1997. Roman Ingarden’s Ontology and Aesthetics. Ottawa: University of
Ottawa Press.
Mooney, Tim. 2010. Understanding and Simple Seeing in Husserl. Husserl Studies 26 (1): 19–48.
Mulligan, Kevin. 1995. Perception. In The Cambridge Companion to Husserl, ed. Barry Smith and
David Woodruff Smith, 168–238. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Robinson, Howard. 1994. Perception. London: Routledge.
Rynkiewicz, Kazimierz. 2008. Zwischen Realismus und Idealismus. Ingardens Überwindung des
transzendentalen Idealismus Husserls. Frankfurta. M: Ontos.
Searle, John R. 1983. Intentionality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Siegel, Susanna. 2006. What Properties are Represented in Perception? In Tamar Szabó Gendler,
John Hawthorne, ed. Perceptual Experience, 481–503. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Simons, Peter. 1994. Particulars in Particular Clothing. Three Trope Theories of Substance.
Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 54 (3): 553–575.
———. 2005. Ingarden and the ontology of dependence. In Chrudzimski. 2005b, 39–53.
Smith, Barry. 1989. On the Origins of Analytic Philosophy. Grazer Philosophische Studien 34:
153–173.
Thomasson, Amie L. 1999. Fiction and Metaphysics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Williford, Kenneth. 2013. Husserl’s Hyletic Data and Phenomenal Consciousness. Phenomenology
and Cognitive Science 12 (3): 501–519.
162 G. Uemura
Genki Uemura (Ph.D., Keio University) is Associate Professor at the Graduate School of
Humanities and Social Sciences, Okayama University. Among his publications are Husserl’s
Conception of Cognition as an Action: An Inquiry into Its Prehistory (In Feeling and Value, Willing
and Action, ed. by M Wehlre & M. Ubiali, Springer, 2015) and The Actuality of States and Other
Social Groups. Tomoo Otaka’s Transcendental Project? (with Toru Yaegashi, in The
Phenomenological Approach to Social Reality, ed. by A. Salice & H. B. Schmid, Springer, 2016).
Truth and Sincerity: The Concept of Truth
in Levinas’ Philosophy
Shojiro Kotegawa
Abstract Emmanuel Levinas is known for his idea of ethics as first philosophy. In
Totality and Infinity (1961), he expresses this concept with the phrase “truth presup-
poses justice”. Levinas’ ethical thought has been much discussed in previous litera-
ture. However, its implications for contemporary theories of truth have not been
discussed at length. This paper aims to investigate how far Levinas’ reinterpretation
of truth ranges from a phenomenological point of view. In the first section, by read-
ing closely the first section of Totality and Infinity I disclose some peculiarities of
Levinas’ concept of truth: (1) the “I” as a knowing subject is separated from the
world. (2) truth is accomplished by discourse towards the other person. (3) to attain
to the truth, the “I” needs to justify not only the fact that he or she describes but also
himself or herself. By putting these three points in relation to Husserl’s analysis of
communication and that of B. Williams in his Truth and Truthfulness, the second
section shows that Levinas’ concept of truth, which may seem bizarre to some, can
contribute to contemporary theories of truth insofar as it reinterprets the concept of
truth from the perspective of a “personal” relation to the other person to whom the
“I” speaks.
Keywords Truth · Sincerity · Face-to-face relation · Discourse towards the other

person · E. Levinas · B. Williams
1 Introduction1
What does it mean to tell the truth? What sort of relation does it bear to sincerity?
In this paper, I shall try to address myself to these questions by taking up certain
arguments from Emmanuel Levinas, who elaborated on Husserl’s phenomenology
in his own distinct way.
1
References to Levinas’ writings will be demarcated as abbreviation + page. Abbreviations will
be designated as follows:
S. Kotegawa (*)
Department of Philosophy, Kokugakuin University, Tokyo, Japan

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_12
164 S. Kotegawa
I tackle these questions for two purposes. One is to understand Levinas’ theory
of truth. In his main work, Totality and Infinity (1961), Levinas redefines the phe-
nomenological concept of truth as “modality of the relation between the Same and
the Other” (TI 59). By doing so, Levinas understands sincerity as the face-to-face
relation to the other person,2 which, he argues, dictates whether the content of
speech is true or not. Levinas then, rather than recanting his seemingly odd position,
moves this argument to the forefront in his next major work, Otherwise than Being
or Beyond Essence (1974) (cf. AE 18; 65). Certain scholars have noted already this
fact,3 which is insufficient for grasping what “sincerity” specifically means and how
broad the scope of Levinas’ theory of truth is. Therefore, it is as of yet unclear as to
how we can answer questions like “which response to the other person is ‘better’
than another response?” or “what kind of response can be said to be “more sincere”
than another response?” To clarify these questions, in the first section I shall try to
reconsider Levinas’ concept of truth by closely reading the first section of Totality
and Infinity, where some unique aspects of Levinas’ theory of truth can be found.
Our other purpose is to reevaluate Levinas’ theory of truth in the context of the
analytical tradition. Indeed, Totality and Infinity does not aim at elaborating a new
concept of truth. However, it does aim to be “a defense of subjectivity” (TI 11) and
thereby to put into question traditional ways of thinking and philosophical concepts.
Therefore, I believe Levinas’ thought might be able to contribute to contemporary
analytic theories of truth, even though it is not easy to find a common ground
between Levinas’ concept of truth and the concept as it has been elaborated in the
analytic tradition (ex. correspondence theory or deflationism) and therefore some
still argue that the former is worth calling “existential truth” insofar as it is described
as “modification of subjectivity”—that is, modification from an egocentric subject
to an agent responsible for the other person. It seems to me that this sort of interpre-
tation overlooks the fact that Levinas takes the content of speech to be inseparable
from our sincerity towards the other person. In the second section, I shall try to show
how Levinas’ concept of truth, which has apparently been construed as bizarre, can
contribute to contemporary theories of truth by putting it in relation to Husserl’s
analysis of communication and Bernard Williams’ theory of truth, which associates
“telling truth” with “sincerity”.4
Emmanuel Levinas TI: Totalité et infini, Martinus Nijhoff, 1961, Livre de poche (trans-
lated by Alphonso Lingis, The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 2004). AE: Autrement qu’être ou
au-delà de l’essence, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff, 1974 (translated by Alphonso Lingis,
Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press, 1981).
2
In Totality and Infinify, the term “sincerity” (sincérité) is used to refer to an attendance of the other
person at his or her own presence or speech (cf. TI 220), while in Otherwise than Being, it refers
to an exposedness of “I” to the other (cf. AE 85). In this paper, the term is used in the sense of an
attitude of “I” who welcomes the presence of the other person, which I believe covers either usage.
3
Cf. Gaëlle Bernard, « La vérité suppose la justice »—L’exercice éthique de la philosophie selon
Levinas, in: Studia Phaenomenologica, Zeta Books, 2007.
4
Cf. Bernard Williams, Truth and Truthfulness, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002, chap. 5.
Truth and Sincerity: The Concept of Truth in Levinas’ Philosophy 165
2 Levinas’ Concept of Truth
In the first section of Totality and Infinity, Levinas seeks for a different notion of
truth both from the correspondence between thought and world, as well as from the
unconcealment of Being (as proposed by Heidegger). He then insists on the follow-
ing three points: (1) the “I”, as a knowing subject, is separated from the world. (2)
Truth is accomplished by discourse with the other person. (3) To attain the truth, the
“I” needs to justify not only the fact that the “I” describes, but also itself.
1. Separation of the “I” from the world: distinction between Being and the truth
In contrast with Heidegger’s “Being-in-the-world”, Levinas puts forward the
“separation” of a subject from the world:
The separation of the Same is produced in the form of an inner life, a psychism. […] The
original role of the psychism does not, in fact, consist in only reflecting being; it is already
a way of being (une manière d’être), resistance to the totality. (TI 46)
For Levinas, the “I”, which remains identical through various modifications—be
they perceptions or affections—, does not merely “reflect” the world the way a mir-
ror would, but focuses its attention on an aspect of the world from his or her first-
person perspective which is not interchangeable and thus represents a world in its
own way.5 Hence, the interiority of the “I” or a “psychism” is considered to be
“separated” from the world in that it is independent of how the world is.6 Levinas
takes this “separation” of “I” from the world to be indispensable to truth.
The knowing subject is not a part of a whole, for it is limitrophe of nothing. Its aspiration to
truth is not the hollowed-out outline of the being it lacks. Truth presupposes a being autono-
mous in separation; the quest for a truth is precisely a relation that does not rest on the priva-
tion of need. (TI 55)
Since the subject of cognition is separated from its cognitive object, a cognition can
be false and can be thus questioned as either true or false; but if the “I” were to be
so inseparable from the world that it had no alternative but to reflect what the world
is, all cognition would be true and there would be no room for the truth. To use
Levinas’ own expression, “without separation, there would not have been the truth;
there would have been only being” (TI 54). This idea is reducible neither to the
materialism, which reduces the truth to causality among things, nor to an idea
5
“Interiority is essentially bound to the first person of the I. The separation is radical only if each
being has its own time, that is, its interiority, if each time is not absorbed into the universal time”
(TI 50).
6
On the face of it, Levinas’ notion of interiority seems to collapse into a Cartesian dualism that
separates the internal mind from the external world which Heidegger opposes Dasein as it is
Being-in-the-world. In fact, though, it is actually Levinas, who, more than any other his contempo-
rary thinkers who were much indebted to Heidegger’s criticism against the traditional concept of
subject, did not try to rehabilitate Cartesian dualism but to redefine the interiority or psychism in
terms of a “way of being”. Cf. Jocelyn Benoist, Le cogito lévinassien: Lévinas et Descartes, in:
Jean-Luc Marion (dir.), Positivité et transcendance, Paris: PUF, 2000, p. 115; Raoul Moati,
Evénements nocturnes: Essai sur Totalité et Infini, Paris: Hermann, 2012, pp. 151–152.
166 S. Kotegawa
according to which all perceptual experiences can take the role of justification.7 In
fact, in cases where a cognitive truth is put into question, it is not the world as a
whole but a part of it on which the “I” focuses and which the “I” recognizes from a
certain viewpoint. Therefore, what is true cannot be reduced to how the world is
(being).
2. Thematization by the other person and speech addressed by “I” to the other
person
For Levinas, when the “I” thematizes a part of the world, the “I” gets involved in a different
order from that of being (‘Otherwise than Being’); namely it gains a relation with an inter-
locutor. In this respect, Levinas attempts to carry out an ambitious project to entirely recon-
sider the concept of truth in terms of the relation to the other person. This seems obvious
from the fact that he argues that the truth relies upon “language” which points to a discourse
addressed to the other person.8 Such a view comes from the insight that it is the other person
that makes possible a thematization of the world.
Speech first founds community by giving, by presenting the phenomenon as given; and it
gives by thematizing. The given is the work of a sentence. In the sentence the apparition
loses its phenomenality in being fixed as a theme […]. (TI 101)
Here, an important distinction between the “phenomenon” and the “given” becomes
clear: the former appears to the “I” without any limitations and is exposed to various
interpretations, whereas the latter is “given”, i.e., thematized and limited by the
other person to orientate it towards the “I”. This distinction is that of how the “I”
receives the world. Regarding the phenomenon which is received under the rubric
of “it seems to me”, the “I” does not have to take any particular attitude in that the
“I” is in a condition to suspend the judgment in saying that “it seems to me.” On the
contrary, with regard to the given to which the “I” is made to pay his or her attention,
the “I” is forced to take an attitude and its judgment must be either true or false (for
instance, when your friend asks ‘do you have a pen?’ you are forced to pay attention
to what you have; it is not sufficient to say that it seems to you that you have a pen,
but that your belief that you have a pen is questioned as true or false). According to
Levinas, it is the other person that thematizes and orientates the phenomenon
towards the “I”, and thereby renders it the given about which a judgment of the “I”
is made to be true or false.
When the “I” addresses a manner of speech which implies his or her attitude
towards the given, this speech can be questioned as true or false. We should then
note that this interlocutory relation to the other person is distinguished from his or
her representation.
But in its expressive function language precisely maintains the other—to whom it is
addressed, whom it calls upon or invokes. […] The other called upon is not something
7
Cf. Jean-Michel Salanskis, L’épistémologie de Totalité et Infini, in: Le concret et l’idéal. Levinas
vivant III, Paris: Klincksieck, 2015, pp. 194–197.
8
“But we have also indicated that this relation of truth, which at the same time spans and does not
span the distance—does not form a totality with the “other shore”—rests on language […]” (TI
59).
represented, is not a given, is not a particular, through one side already open to generaliza-
tion. Language, far from presupposing universality and generality, first makes them possi-
ble. (TI 70)
The other person as an interlocutor, as far as he or she is the one to whom the “I”
speaks (expressed by a dative), should be distinguished from the one about whom
the “I” speaks (expressed by an accusative). Indeed, it is always possible to thema-
tize and speak about the interlocutor herself. But in this case as well, the interlocutor
as an addressee can be conceptually distinguished from the interlocutor as a matter
of subject.9 Levinas does not focus on the impossibility of representing the other
person. Instead, Levinas insists on the fact that the relation with the interlocutor as
an addressee should not be confused with the representational relation to the inter-
locutor as a matter of subject.
Incidentally, while speaking with the other person and representing the other
person are two different ways to be related to the other person, the addressee and the
content are two components which constitute one and the same speech-act. One can
speak to the other person (addressee) only through the content of the speech-act. To
speak to the other person about the given as thematized by the other person in an
appropriate way is to respect him or her as a person without rendering him or her as
one thing in the world.10 This act of respect, which is accomplished through the
content of the speech-act, Levinas calls the truth: “Truth as a respect for being is the
meaning of metaphysical truth” (TI 338; Cf. TI 59; 65). In this way, Levinas tries to
avoid reducing truth to the relation between the proposition and the world, but to
reconsider it from the relation between the “I”, the world given by the other person,
and the other person as an addressee.
3. Double justification
In this respect, we can understand why Levinas thinks the truth requires not only
the justification of the fact in question but also that of the “I” itself.
Truth is in effect not separable from intelligibility; to know is not simply to
record, but always to comprehend. We also say that to know is to justify, making
intervene, by analogy with the moral order, the notion of justice. The justification of
a fact consists in lifting from it its character of being a fact, accomplished, past, and
hence irrevocable, which as such obstructs our spontaneity. […] And yet the con-
cern for intelligibility is fundamentally different from an attitude that engenders an
action without regard for obstacles. It signifies on the contrary a certain respect for
objects. For an obstacle to become a fact that requires a theoretical justification or a
reason the spontaneity of the action that surmounts it had to be inhibited, that is,
itself put into question. It is then that we move from an activity without regard for
anything to a consideration of the fact. (TI 80-81)
9
“In discourse the divergence that inevitably opens between the Other person as my theme and the
Other person as my interlocutor, emancipated from the theme that seemed a moment to hold him,
forthwith contests the meaning I ascribe to my interlocutor” (TI 212–213).
10
“The “vision” of the face is inseparable from this offering language is. To see the face is to speak
of the world” (TI 190).
168 S. Kotegawa
To tell the truth about the given which has been thematized by the other person is
not merely to describe the fact, it is furthermore to imply the “I’s” comprehension of
the fact. On the one hand, since this comprehension is concerned with why it is so and
not otherwise and how it can be modified (improved or deteriorated),11 it is not bound
to “irrevocability” of the fact. On the other hand, since it is not a simple interpretation
which permits other possibilities, but a comprehension about what is in question in
the relation to the other person, it requires the “I” to develop it according to the fact
(“a certain respect for objects”). To develop one’s comprehension according to the
fact is not merely to interpret the fact as the “I” wants to, but to put into question the
presupposition of that comprehension of the “I” in the relation to the other person in
which the fact is situated. That is: the “I” seeking for the truth is needed not only to
justify his or her speech, but also to justify the “I” itself, who should comprehend that
fact and annunciate it to the other person in an appropriate way.12
3 What Is the Scope of Levinas’ Theory of Truth
Superficially speaking, the aforementioned discussions of Levinas dwell on trivial

points (thematization of the world), and confine truth to limited cases (discourse
towards the other person), and thus confuse justification in a theoretical sense (jus-
tification of the fact) with that in its moral sense (justification of the subject of
speech). However, Levinas’ attitude towards the truth as differing from a character-
ization of it as merely the relation between the “I” and the world and then applying
it in an intersubjective dimension is well worth considering for those caught in the
middle of ongoing debates about truth.
When Levinas refers to the separation of the “I” (from the world), he does not
mean to commit himself to a relativism which takes truth to be relative to a subject
experiencing and speaking about it. For the fact that the “I” does not merely reflect
the world but “claims” (prétendre) his or her own viewpoint enables every speaker
to make false statements in addition to the truth.13 On the other hand, Levinas refuses
to characterize the truth without taking into account the separation of the “I” and the
relation to the other person (for instance, only in terms of the relation between the
“I” and the world or in terms of the correspondence between proposition and state
of affairs). By doing so, he tries to avoid an extreme generalization of the notion of
truth and to disclose its specificity within our ordinary speech-acts. Indeed, espe-
cially in Otherwise than Being, the notion of truth is often used in a broad sense.
11
Cf. Jean-Michel Salanskis, ibid., pp. 202–203.
12
Levinas calls this justification of oneself in the discourse towards the other person an “apology”
(cf. TI 29).
13
“The originality of separation has appeared to us to consist in the autonomy of the separated
being. Whence in knowledge, or more exactly in the claim to it, the knower neither participates in
nor unites with the known being. The relation of truth thus involves a dimension of interiority […]”
(TI 59).
But, his attempt to reconsider the truth in terms of “telling the truth to others” in an
intersubjective dimension (i.e., in our ordinary speech-act) is still at work.14 So apart
from his various uses of the word truth, what is at stake is it seems, ordinary speech-
acts rather than a generalization of the concept of truth.
Then, why is it that we must refer to the separation of the “I” and the thematiza-
tion of the world when it comes to “telling the truth to others”? It is generally said
that it is in a case where a speaker A asserts to a hearer B that his or her own belief
“X” is true, except for cases where a belief is not of A’s or A just utters his or her
belief, that truth or authenticity is put into question in ordinary communication.
Now, since one has innumerable beliefs, it is of great importance which of them the
speaker chooses to assert. For to assert one’s own true belief is not necessarily to tell
the truth. Suppose A says to B “Someone has been opening your mail.” Normally B
does not take it that A himself has committed this offense (if it was A himself that
did it, A would be expected to confess his sin to B). However if that “someone” was
indeed A himself, we would still have to agree that what he said is true. For if telling
a lie is defined as making an assertion, “the content of which the speaker believes to
be false, which is made with the intention to deceive the hearer with regard to that
content,”15 then speaker A does not tell a lie. The problem is that he does not express
his other belief (‘that someone is me’) and, by confining himself to expressing his
partial beliefs, deceives B. In this case, can speaker A be said to have “told the
truth”? Obviously, we cannot agree with this sentiment. This shows that asserting
one’s own true belief is not enough to “tell the truth” and that as regards “telling the
truth,” it should be asked to what extent the speaker knows about what is in question
between the speaker and the hearer, and which of his various beliefs he chooses to
tell and how he tells it to the hearer.
It is not Levinas’ original idea that speech-acts towards others presupposes a
relation to the other person as a “person.” Since his Logical investigation, Husserl
had already put forward this idea and, along this line of reasoning, had developed
his discussion of “collective spirit” included in his manuscripts on intersubjectivity,
especially on “communication” (Mitteilung).16 The “personalistic” relation in a
Husserlian sense is one in which the hearer comprehends the speaker as a person
who intends to communicate something to him and the speaker comprehends the
hearer as a person who has a capacity to comprehend what he says. As I have
mentioned earlier, Levinas also thinks that the discourse presupposes the respect for
the other person as a person. But his emphasis is not put on the intentions of the
speaker and hearer but instead on the presence of the other person as the Other than
14
“The subjective and its Good cannot be understood out of ontology. On the contrary, starting with
subjectivity in the form of saying, the signification of the said will be interpretable. It will be pos-
sible to show that there is question of the said and being only because saying or responsibility
require justice. […] Thus alone will the terrain of disinterestedness that allows us to separate truth
from ideology be given its truth” (AE 77).
15
Bernard Williams, ibid., p. 96.
16
Edmund Husserl, Husserliana vol. 14. Zur Phänomenologie der Intersubjektivität, Texte aus
dem Nachlass, Zweiter Teil: 1921–1928. Ed. Iso Kern. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1973.
170 S. Kotegawa
“I” which challenges the premises that act as the condition for a comprehension or
speech of the “I”. What does this difference of emphasis imply?
In a Husserlian intention-based model, to assert “X” to a hearer is to communi-
cate one’s own belief X (as true) to the hearer. It is aimed at not only manifesting
one’s own belief X, but also intending to the hearer to have the same belief (or a
similar belief). However it is often seen that the speaker tells something to the hearer
which goes beyond the content of speech.
First, the speaker intimates (kundgeben) his states of mind through his physiog-
nomy (face) or gesture, his tone or intonation. In this way, Husserl has already dis-
tinguished what the physiognomy or gesture of a speaker “intimates” from what his
speech “means” and thereby the “intimation” of mental experience of a speaker
from the “communication” of the meaning of a speech-act.17 At the same time, he
mentioned that in the case of ordinary conversations aimed at communication in
which the hearer is interested in both the content of a speech-act and the mental
experience of the speaker, this intimation and communication are interwoven.
What is more puzzling is what the speech-act itself implicates. For instance,
when A says to B “Audrey was either in Paris or Rome when she called me on the
telephone,” B can understand that A is not certain which is true. This can be com-
municated to B by the mere fact that A has said to B “Audrey was either in Paris or
Rome when she called me on the telephone,” irrespective of A’s intention. This kind
of implication can be distinguished from entailment as a logical consequence. For
in the latter’s case, falsity in a consequence involves that in a premise, which is not
always the case with the former (when you say ‘Someone has been opening your
mail,’ you imply that ‘it was not me who did it,’ and in this case the latter is false but
the former is true). It should be noted that what is often at stake in our ordinary
conversations is not entailment, but rather these kinds of implications. Thus where,
how, and to whom one speaks is essential, regardless of his or her intention (for
instance, we can easily imagine a case in which one says ‘You did not grasp the
actual meaning of what I said’ or a case of sexual harassment where the perpetrator
claims ‘I didn’t mean it’ or ‘I didn’t mean to harm anybody’).
Indeed, Levinas does not deny that a speaker’s and hearer’s intentions are impor-
tant in our ordinary conversation. However, he tries to show that we cannot under-
estimate the fact that the mere act of speech communicates to a hearer what is not
contained in the content of the speech-act, that is, to communicate what the speaker
is interested in to the hearer, to draw the latter’s attention to it and to invite him to
respond to it, which is integral to our ordinary communication.
As I have mentioned before, Levinas associates the justification of a fact with
that of one’s attitude towards the fact and others, and we must avoid confusing these
two things. At the risk of confusing them, he tries to spell out the following idea: if
“telling the truth” is required for one to say something to the other person in terms
of response to the thematization proposed by him or her, (a) what is at stake here
would be how to describe the fact according to the relation to the other person and

Edmund Husserl, Husserliana XIX/1, Logische Untersuchungen, Zweiter Band. I. Teil.
17
Untersuchungen zur Phaenomenologie und Theorie der Erkenntnis, Ursula Panzer (ed.), Martinus
Nijhoff Publishers, 1984, pp. 44; 50.
that (b) moreover, the way to comprehend the fact and the premise on which it relies
should be put into question. In Totality and Infinity, Levinas cautiously distinguishes
“the other person” (autrui) as a concrete person (especially, an interlocutor) and
“the Other” (l’Autre) as his or her alterity that cannot be comprehended by the “I,”
but rather puts into question any ordinary comprehension of the notion of the “I”.18
He defines the “face of the other person” as “the way in which, surpassing the idea
of the Other in the “I,” the Other presents itself” (TI 43). In other words, in the face-
to-face relation “the other person” presents himself or herself as “the Other” that
cannot be comprehended by “I” and so requires “I” to understand this other person
in a way other than the “I” did.19
(c) Conversely, to respond to the other person, one must grasp in an appropriate
way what is in question in relation to him or her. It is often argued that what Levinas
calls “sincerity” consists in subordinating blindly to the demand of the other person
or in preferring the other person to oneself without any reasonable judgment. But
this interpretation is problematic. Sincerity in a Levinasian sense is neither to tell all
that one knows without discrimination, nor is it to try to grant all that the other per-
son wishes for. Sincerity is needed to put into question the framework of one’s com-
prehension, to comprehend correctly what is in question in relation to the other
person, and to make a “just” response to the other person.20 Therefore, a “sincere”
response to the other person can be what he or she does not want to hear. To invoke
Williams’ example, if one tells a lie to A, who intends to kill B (the case which was
raised by Constant to Kant), it is not sincere to tell A where B is. According to
Williams, a person who wants to kill someone or a fraud does not “deserve” the truth
in that they cannot be expected to tell the truth. If it is necessary for sincerity to dis-
cern to whom the truth should be told, sincerity would imply a concept of justice and
injustice. I believe, Levinas’ discussion amounts to a similar conclusion. Seen from
this perspective, Levinas’ ethics can take back the connection with our ethical action.
4 Conclusion
I have argued that Levinas’ claims that we have considered here demonstrate a need
to reconsider the notion of truth from the perspective of the “I” and its relation to the
other person to whom it speaks. Some might associate this way of thinking with
Wittgenstein’s discussion of “other mind” and Davidson’s treatment of
18
Without this distinction, we cannot understand the following passage: “the pretention to know
and to attain the Other (l’Autre) is accomplished in the relation to the other person (autrui), which
flows into the relation of language […]” (TI 65).
19
Levinas writes with majuscule Autrui (the Other Person) to designate the other person who pres-
ents himself or herself as the Other (cf. TI 214)
20
Cf. Shojiro Kotegawa, « Le tiers me regarde dans les yeux d’autrui »: qui est. le « tiers »
d’E. Levinas? in: Revue internationale Michel Henry, Louvain: Presses universitaires de Louvain,
2015.
172 S. Kotegawa
communication.21 However there are some aspects in which Levinas can be sepa-
rated from other philosophers. Levinas does not focus on an understanding of the
other person, but on the other person calling the “I” into question. This implies that
the question Levinas is faced with is not how we can understand the mental events
of others, but rather how my comprehension is put into question by the other person.
According to Levinas, if the truth can be accomplished only by a speech-act towards
the other person, it always involves a moment of reinvestigation of our comprehen-
sion. As such, the matter of how we can do justice to this involvement remains to be
solved.22
References
Benoist, Jocelyn. 2000. Le cogito lévinassien: Lévinas et Descartes. In Positivité et transcendance,

ed. Jean-Luc Marion. Paris: PUF.
Bernard, Gaëlle. 2007. « La vérité suppose la justice »—L’exercice éthique de la philosophie selon
Levinas. In Studia Phaenomenologica, special issue 2007. Zeta Books.
Husserl, Edmund. 1973. Husserliana vol. 14. Zur Phänomenologie der Intersubjektivität, Texte
aus dem Nachlass, Zweiter Teil: 1921–1928, ed. Iso Kern. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff.
———. 1984. Husserliana XIX/1, Logische Untersuchungen, Zweiter Band. I. Teil.
Untersuchungen zur Phaenomenologie und Theorie der Erkenntnis, ed. Ursula Panzer.
Martinus Nijhoff Publishers.
Kotegawa, Shojiro. 2015. « Le tiers me regarde dans les yeux d’autrui » : qui est le « tiers »
d’E. Levinas ? In Revue internationale Michel Henry. Louvain: Presses universitaires de
Louvain.
Levinas, Emmanuel. 1961. Totalité et infini, Martinus Nijhoff, Livre de poche (translated by
Alphonso Lingis, The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 2004).
———. 1974. Autrement qu’être ou au-delà de l’essence. Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff (translated
by Alphonso Lingis. Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press, 1981).
Moati, Raoul. 2012. Evénements nocturnes: Essai sur Totalité et Infini. Paris: Hermann.
Morgan, Micheal L. 2007. Discovering Levinas. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Overgaard, Søren. 2007. Wittgenstein and Other Minds: Rethinking Subjectivity and
Intersubjectivity with Wittgenstein, Levinas, and Husserl. New York: Routledge.
Salanskis, Jean-Michel. 2015. Le concret et l’idéal. Levinas vivant III. Paris: Klincksieck.
Williams, Bernard. 2002. Truth and Truthfulness. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Shojiro Kotegawa (Ph.D., Keio University) is Associate Professor at Kokugakuin University. He

is author of Yomigaeru Levinas [Rebirth of Levinas] (Suiseisha, 2015) and has published many
articles including “Le tiers me regarde dans les yeux d’autrui: qui est le ‘tiers’ d’E. Levinas ?”
(Revue internationale Michel Henry, 2015). His research topics are Levinas’ philosophy, the femi-
nist phenomenology, and the phenomenology of family.
21
Søren Overgaard, Wittgenstein and other minds: rethinking subjectivity and intersubjectivity
with Wittgenstein, Levinas, and Husserl, New York: Routledge, 2007, chap. 7–8; Micheal
L. Morgan, Discovering Levinas, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007, pp. 163–167.
22
I am grateful to Aya Tanaka, who read the draft and corrected some errors, and Yong Chen who
gave me many helpful comments at the “International Conference on Phenomenology “Consciousness
and the World” (3–4 June 2016, Tongji University, China). I would like to dedicate this article to
Professor László Tengelyi, who encouraged my research especially in the fifth Symposia
Phaenomenologica Asiatica (August, 2011, The Chinese University of Hong Kong, Hong Kong).
Phenomenology, Metaphysics
and Comparative Philosophy. Sketch
for a Positive Phenomenology
Shin Nagai
Abstract This paper aims to overcome the Eurocentrism of the conventional com-
parative philosophy by using phenomenology as a method. By doing so, it shows
that phenomenology itself exceeds any negative duality and transforms itself into
“positive phenomenology”. The paper further argues that comparative philosophy
can be newly conceived as phenomenological metaphysics in which the oneness
undergoes an immanent self-development. For this triple work, phenomenology
needs to carry out a thorough reduction, dismantling the negative duality which
underlies any consciousness and is the origin of representation. It thereby should
enable us to simply affirm the present in our consciousness, an positivity that does
not include any negativity. The proposal of such intrinsically positive phenomenol-
ogy will provide us with a good opportunity to reconceptualize comparative phi-
losophy as metaphysics. My reflection will not be based on Husserl’s and Heidegger’s
phenomenology, which centers on the notion of negativity; rather, it will be guided
by Henry Corbin’s phenomenological interpretation of Sufism of Ibn Arabî.
Keywords Henry Corbin · Comparative philosophy · Metaphysics ·

Phenomenology · Creative imagination · Islamic mysticism
1 I ntroduction: Comparative Philosophy

as Phenomenological Metaphysics
It would be an anachronistic truism to remark that after the collapse of the Hegelian
system, we are in a world that has moved beyond any unique and universal history.
Nonetheless, we exist in an historical world in an empirical sense, “universal” in a
sense other than Hegel’s, as open to all other civilizations and cultures what so ever.
But it is equally evident that in reality, this “universality” is nothing more than the
S. Nagai (*)
Faculty of Letters, Toyo University, Tokyo, Japan
e-mail: taiza@lilac.plala.or.jp

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-11893-8_13
174 S. Nagai
facade of wild disorder without any orientation, which cannot resist, in our day,
another form of unity, even if different from Hegel’s, economic “globalization”.
This entry onto the stage of history of a new unity of the world, this time more
sinister than the preceeding unity, forces us to ask a fundamental philosophical
question: what does it essentially mean to be One? It is in this sense that metaphys-
ics, as a science of the One, and as an untimely science, places itself once again at
the forefront of philosophy, but this time with a maximum degree of prudence, so as
to avoid succumbing to any kind of ruse, be it Hegelian or economic globalization.
Our conviction is that two methods are required to carry out such a metaphysics,
which would be both novel and critical: comparative philosophy and
phenomenology.
In the first place, in order to move beyond the enclosure of the Hegelian idea of
the metaphysical One, which restricts its scope exclusively to Western history, we
are obviously obliged to widen, in one way or another, the field of investigation of
philosophical investigation to non-Western cultures, and in particular to the tradi-
tions of Oriental thought, and to do so by taking into consideration objective empiri-
cal facts. It is for this reason that comparative sciences such as comparative
linguistics or comparative anthropology are set into motion. In the philosophical
domain, Paul Masson-Oursel introduced the first comparative method in order to
avoid Eurocentrist dogmatism.1 He did this, however, as we shall see below, without
sufficient methodological reflection which would prevent falling back into the ruse
of another form of Eurocentrism. In any event, it is undeniable that he opened a path
towards a new comparative metaphysics, namely, the science of the One. This con-
ception of the One appears, in contrast to the substantive Hegelian One which
returns to itself through the intermediary of historical events. This other conception
of the One takes into view empirical phenomena of not only Western but also non-
Western cultures.
Another method is required to achieve such a new comparative metaphysics,
which would simultaneously avoid Eurocentrist naivete of the Hegelian One and the
insufficiency of Masson-Oursel’s method. This method which places a unilateral
stress on multiple facts is phenomenology. It is a method which promises the pos-
sibility to move past two opposed extremes, the One and the Many, in reducing each
to subjective experience and thus relying exclusively on the “things themselves”
that emerge in these experiences.
The aim of our attempt in the following is therefore threefold: to conceive a
metaphysics which would make possible a new understanding of the One in a non-
dogmatic manner; this project requires that we envision a comparative philosophy,
albeit in a revised form, so as not to fall into another form of Eurocentrist dogma-
tism; this critical revision is entrusted to phenomenology, which, with regard to its
new object (Sache), namely, comparative metaphysics, would be transformed into a
new form which we will explore under the name of “positive phenomenology”.
1
Paul Masson-Oursel: La philosophie comparée. Alcan, Paris 1923. (English: Comparative
Philosophy, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., Ltd., London 1926).
Phenomenology, Metaphysics and Comparative Philosophy. Sketch for a Positive… 175
2 Masson-Oursel’s Comparative Philosophy
Masson-Oursel developed his comparative philosophy, in our understanding, for

two main reasons: first, to go beyond the metaphysical dogmatism of the West, as
represented by the Hegelian system; and second, to criticize naive comparisons that
compare everything with anything without methodological reflection.
First, in order to move beyond the dogmatism of Western metaphysics, Masson-
Oursel finds, not only in Hegel but also among other philosophers, such as his con-
temporary Bergson, for example, wants to construct an objective and universal
philosophy called “positive philosophy”. Masson-Oursel insists on the positivity of
the historical documents which are accessible to comparative philosophy as its
materials. One first needs a rigorous critique of texts in Eastern traditions. This is a
conditio sine qua non, according to Masson-Oursel, if one seeks to escape the spell
of the Hegelian One and the closing of the West.
On the other hand, even if the positivity of historical documents is acquired,
comparative philosophy can not be limited to comparisons, empirical and naive, of
everything with everything: what one needs is a theory of serious knowledge, as
established from a rigorous science from documents. In order to achieve this goal,
Masson-Oursel proposes a structural comparison by means of the method of anal-
ogy. This method consists in comparing several cultural objects, either philosophi-
cal or religious, by disregarding their respective contents, as a purely formal
relationship.
For example: Socrates/Greek Sophist = Confucuis/Chinese Sophist
This comparison itself could be positively appreciated as a rigorously scientific
and universal method, since by extracting from the historical and empirical facts the
formal meta-historical relations, common to the various traditions, it makes it pos-
sible to avoid biases arising from differences of their contents. Paradoxically, while
the first method of criticizing historical documents consists in saving the empirical
multiplicity of the grasp of the dogmatic One, the method of analogy rehabilitates a
certain unity, not that of the Hegelian Geist, but rather that of the Cartesian spirit or
Kantian subjectivity, understood as the subject of scientific knowledge. In this
regard, with such a traditional dualism of the a priori unity of the mind and the mul-
tiplicity of the empirical history shows that the comparative philosophy of Masson-
Oursel, while trying to broaden the field of Western philosophy to non-Western
cultures, still remains in a typically Western framework of the of notion representa-
tive knowledge? This would mean that with Masson-Oursel’s program of the posi-
tive and universal philosophy, even if liberated from Western biases, would still be
defined by a problem essentially Western: non-Western cultures, within this frame-
work, absorb themselves into a form of Western representation, and thus lose their
otherness.
The definitive short-coming of such a positive method would, in our opinion, be
as follows: experiences, themselves meta-historical, are contained in historical doc-
uments, such as Hindu metaphysics, Islamic mysticism, or Japanese Buddhism.
176 S. Nagai
They certainly serve, as objects of positive science, in the widening of knowledge,

but are never lived in their presence, and, more importantly, will never have the
force to transform the experience of those interpreters who look at these documents.
Such a transformation is in reality the ultimate goal of Eastern metaphysics in gen-
eral. The method which seems to us most pertinent for correcting this short-coming
is, as we have indicated above, phenomenology as a direct approach to “things
themselves”, without any intermediary medium or biases.
It is precisely by referring to the phenomenological method that Henry Corbin,
French islamologist and philosopher, and a major reference in our own research,
tries to transmute the concept of “comparative philosophy” (understood as “positive
philosophy” in the sense of the scientific positivity proposed by Masson-Oursel)
into another concept of “positive philosophy” in a metaphysical sense. This concept
is comparable to that proposed by Schelling in the last phase of his philosophy: in
this positivity, immediate, that is to say, of its interior, of the metaphysical One.
Phenomenology, which consists in rendering presenting its objects, would thus
allow readers of historical documents concerning Eastern metaphysics to repeat, in
Heidegger’s sense of Wiederholung, these traditions, and thus to live them in the
depths of their consciousness.2
3 P
henomenological Method: From “Negative
Phenomenology” to “Positive Phenomenology”
The phenomenological method consists in making “present” through a direct expe-

rience of its objects. What does this mean precisely? What does “selbst” itself mean
in the motto: “To the things themselves (Zu den Sachen selbst)”? We understand this
statement in the following manner. The idea of phenomenology
is to enter into and
experience the things from within; in this sense, it is comparable to Bergsonian
intuitionism. The thing itself signifies in this context interiority or radical imma-
nence in the sense of the absence of all exteriority. The phenomenological reduction
as an approach to the things constitutes the maximum elimination of intermediaries
external to things themselves, which would prevent them from appearing as such, as
well as the elimination of the biases that come from these intermediaries.
Consequently, the ultimate reduction, if it is possible, would lead us to the pure One
as a phenomenon which would appear as positive phenomenality without any exter-
nal, that is, negative condition. The model of such an ultimate phenomenology
would be, rather than the positive sciences, a metaphysics as the science of the One,
or rather mysticism or theosophy as the direct experience of the One itself.3 This is
precisely what is essentially excluded by an idea of phenomenology which refers
2
Henry Corbin: Philosophie Iranienne et philosophie comparée. Buchet/Chastel, Paris, p. 21–p.
34.
3
Such as Michel Henry, Emmanuel Lévinas et Jean-Luc Marion who first opened this direction in
phenomenology.
unilaterally to negativity as the principle of phenomenalization, in whatever form,

whether it be intentionality or ontological difference.
Intentionality as horizontal negativity: To be sure, it is an undeniable and deci-
sive merit of Husserlian phenomenology to have discovered, at least in contempo-
rary philosophy, the dimension of the “between” (Zwischen), which precedes and
underlies modern substantive dualism between spirit and matter, a dimension which
Husserl clumsily calls “transcendental subjectivity.” The problem arises when
Husserl, after having exposed by the method of phenomenological reduction, this
subjectively lived dimension between spirit and matter, takes intentionality (which
represents a new form of modern dualism) as the principle of a new phenomenal
field. More precisely, it is the negative character of intentionality which consider-
ably restricts his unprecedented discovery.
Such a negativity can be seen typically in the horizontal structure of intentional-
ity, which dominates all Husserl’s analyzes, from the passive constitution of tempo-
rality to the universal horizon to the active constitution of the ideal object. In every
experience, the subjective experience discovered by reduction, implying no nega-
tion in its positive immanence, aims structurally, but in a non-phenomenological
way, to an external or transcendent, i.e. negative, object according to the principle
of “a priori correlation”, a principle considered universal by Husserl. Husserl’s fun-
damental motivation is the foundation of scientific knowledge, but not metaphysics
as knowledge of reality itself. From this point of view, Husserl is not off the mark,
but his decision to limit the phenomenal field to horizontal experience must again
be called into question, at least as far as our attempt to radicalize phenomenology
into pure and positive phenomenality and thus realize new metaphysics.
The ontological difference as vertical negativity: Husserl’s analyses of vari-
ous phenomenons, which are developed gradually, clearly reveal positive phenom-
enon, which appear to move beyond the principle of intentionality as the basis for
phenomenalization. And yet, it seems to us, Husserl never really abandoned the idea
of intentionality, even at the level of passivity. His model of phenomenology always
remains the modern representative notion of knowledge which supposes duality,
even if, in his thinking, reduced, into the duality of empty intention and its intuitive
fulfillment.
It was Heidegger who deepened the reduction of the world to Being. Thus, one
might say, intentional or horizontal negativity, which forces the appearance of
“things themselves” into exteriority and thus disguises them in unreal representa-
tions, to a deeper negativity that one could call “vertical”, capable of letting self-
appear the “thing itself” namely the Being, which appears as the Nothingness. And
through the intermediary of this Nothingness, which is none other than an appear-
ance of Being itself, the latter can certainly self-appear, or better: reveal itself, that
is to say, as much as “thing itself”. This is the fundamental idea of Heidegger’s
phenomenology in Being and Time or “What is metaphysics?”.
The problem arises from the fact that negativity reappears here, even at a differ-
ent level of intentionality, as a principle of phenomenality. Certainly, Nothingness
as the “veil of Being” is not the relative negativity in the sense of the horizontal, or
reversible, in Merleau-Ponty’s sense. It is the radical negation of the horizontal
178 S. Nagai
world in its totality. It is this total negativity which Heidegger attempts to phenom-
enalize, not as reversible within the horizontal world, as Merleau-Ponty, but as the
absolute Nothingness in which all beings “slip”, that is, as the emotional mood of
anguish.
If so, is this Nothingness really the appearance of the “thing itself,” namely
Being? That is to say, does it really correspond to the completion of the idea of
phenomenology, or to the unveiling of pure phenomenality? Negativity, even when
deepened from the horizontal to the vertical through the radicalized reduction,
remains nonetheless a falsification of the “thing itself.” We can ask ourselves
whether the negative ontological difference really constitutes an insurmountable
event, or the tenacious bias of a certain dualism, which always presupposes a certain
negativity behind any positivity? Is there not a positive phenomenon which would
appear beyond the negative duality of beings and Being? This is the question we
now want to ask.
4 Henry Corbin’s Positive Phenomenology
The problematic character of both Husserl and Heidegger lies in the fact that the
principle of appearance consists exclusively in negativity: the phenomenological
“presence” and the “unveiling of the hidden” are for each essentially conditioned by
negativity; for Husserl, with the intentional horizon and, for Heidegger, with the
ontological difference. In this manner, the positive phenomena appearing without
any mediation in terms of negativity would constitute only mere appearances.
Because of this limitation in terms of such notions of negativity, the type and field
of phenomena saved by the reduction are likewise restricted. Levinas’ phenomenol-
ogy, for example, represents precisely an attempt to save the positive phenomenon
in the face of the Other by broadening and radicalizeng reduction beyond the phe-
nomenal field as limited by Husserl and Heidegger.
In our view, Henry Corbin’s phenomenology represents an attempt to move
beyond this limit of negative phenomenology and to save an entire dimension of
positive phenomenality, which marks an unprecedented dimension for “Western”
phenomenologists such as Husserl and Heidegger. This is done through a reference
to Islamic mysticism as a direct experience of the God of Semitic monotheism, in a
manner that is comparable with Levinas and his reference to his own Jewish tradi-
tion. What is here essential is that this is not simply a transition from the “West” in
the geographical and historical sense to the “Orient” in the empirical sense, nor to
the enlargement of the a field of historical documentary investigation for purposes
of comparative philosophy, as Masson-Oursel proposed, but a definitive advance-
ment of phenomenology towards the “thing itself.” Moreover, this “thing itself” is
none other than the profound meaning of what Corbin calls the “spiritual Orient.” In
this manner, this Corbinian deepening is not limited to regional ethical phenome-
non, as with the “face of the Other” in Levinas, but attains a universal character.
If such a phenomenon no longer implies any negativity, it is because in this phe-

nomenality, it is the unity of God of the monotheistic tradition. This phenomenality
of the one God must be a pure “self-revelation” which does not require any negative
mediation such as intentionality or ontological difference. These divide unity as a
condition of possibility for the appearance of God; such self-revelation is possible
within the radical immanence of divine positivity. In other words, this phenomenal-
ity has the peculiarity that “the One is immediately multiple” or “the one equal (or:
immediate passing) to the multiple” (一即多 in Japanese), as expressing the
modality of the phenomenon of emptiness in Huayan/Kegon Buddhism (華厳), or
“the One is nothing but a phenomenon”, as Marc Richir would say in a phenomeno-
logical register.
Such a radicalized phenomenology is Corbin called by the “unveiling of the hid-
den.” He refers here at the same time to Heidegger and Islamic mysticism, and
expressly sees this idea in Arabic: “kashf al-mahjub.”4 In Corbin’s view, and despite
his great respect for Heidegger, phenomenology in its ultimate form is to be found
in the “Eastern” tradition, namely, in monotheism rooted in the semantic field of the
Semitic language, particularly Arabic and Persian. From this point of view, the fact
that all his reading notes in his copy of Being and Time were written in Arabic is not
a merely anecdotal, but highly significant.
Given that, for philosophers such as Heidegger and Corbin, experience is funda-
mentally determined by language, his use of the Arabic language is significant. The
deepening of the phenomenological reduction of Being to God is determined by the
difference of the languages in which Being and God appear. More precisely, in the
“unveiling of the hidden,” a formula common to Heidegger and Corbin, “unveiling”
and “hidden” change their meanings according to a difference of language. In
Corbin, the “unveiling of the hidden” is rooted more deeply in the peculiarity of the
Arabic and Persian languages, than in the German language of Heidegger. For
Corbin, phenomenology must be at one with the spiritual hermeneutics of Islamic
mysticism, as will be discussed later. The peculiarity of Arabic and Semitic lan-
guages in general is twofold. First, language in Semitic monotheism is not other, at
least for the mystics, but a self-revelation or a theophany of God in its immanence,
that is to say, through its symbols. Second, the world was created from nothing on
the model of those divine symbols that serve the created world of archetypes. This
means that nothingness, or negativity, never intervenes in the genesis of language as
the immanent self-articulation of God, but appears only in the secondary creation of
Earth and Sky.
Ibid, Henry Corbin: Philosophie Iranienne et philosophie comparée. Buchet/Chastel, Paris, p. 23.
4
180 S. Nagai
5 Creative Imagination in the Sufism of Ibn-Arabî
The principle model of the phenomenology for Corbin, whose fundamental aspects
we have just outlined, is established by two Islamic mystics and theosophists of the
Thirteenth and Twelfth centuries: the Sufi thinker Ibn-Arabî of Andalusian origin;
and the Persian mystic Sohrawardî, founder of the Ishraq school, otherwise known
as the “philosophy of Light” or “Oriental philosophy.” We shall limit ourselves here
to the first, and more precisely to his doctrine of “creative imagination,” to which
Corbin devoted one of his main works.5
The “first creation” as Theophany6: In his “visionary narratives,” Ibn-Arabî, like
many other Gnositcs, narrates a story of the “first creation” in divine immanence
prior to the creation of Earth and Sky from nothingness. His theosophy is an explo-
ration of the immanence of God thus created before the creation of the world.7
According to his symbolic account, the first creation occurs as an “diminishing of
divine sadness for his solitude”. God, in his immanent unity, reflects within himself
an appearance, or a image, of himself. In this primordial reflection, God alone
divides himself in his immanence into a God who sees and a God who is seen, as an
image, while remaining an indivisible One. Yet, if God becomes the “other of God
Himself” in such an original reflection, it can not be the “Other of God” in the strict
sense of the term, inasmuch as the exteriority of God is not yet created. Differentiation
within God, or the multiplication of God-one, does not occur by external principles
such as space and time.
This means that God created within himself the Other of Himself which remains
at the same time Himself. This apparently paradoxical event can be explained in
several ways in light of different Eastern traditions, for example, with the tantric
logic of begetting in the divine matrix (visualized as a mandala). Ibn-Arabî uses the
logic of the image: God-as-One is reflected in multiple mirrors and thus appears as
multiple images, while remaining unique. In this sense, the first creation is none
other than theophany.8 In Ibn-Arabî’s narrative, these mirrors reflecting the one God
are precisely human beings, angelic humans or “Adam of light,” before their Fall
into the world as created from nothingness. Their exclusive function is to reflect
God as such, namely, in his pure immanence, by means of the faculty of the
soul (himma) or the “creative imagination,” a faculty which precedes worldly
knowledge in the form of consciousness or reason. God created human beings in his
immanence exclusively to see himself as his multiple images while remaining
unique, as “one equal multiple”, according to a formulation analogous to that of the
logic of the Buddhist emptiness. With the second creation, human beings are
5
Henry Corbin: L’imagination créatrice dans le soufisme d’Ibn Arabî. 2ème édition, Aubier, Paris.
6
Corbin systematically investigated this concept in Avicenne et le récit visionnaire. Berg
International, 1979.
7
See especially Corbin’s L’imagination créatrice dans le soufisme d’Ibn Arabî.
8
See Henry Corbin: Le paradoxe du monothéisme. L’Herne, Paris, 1981, I.Le Dieu-un et les dieux
multiples.
expelled from God’s immanence into an exteriority, namely, into the world as cre-
ated from nothingness. In this manner, human beings become dominated by nega-
tive principles such as time, space, and history, which Corbin describes as “Western.”
Despite this Fallen condition, human beings always possess the faculty of the soul
and the creative imagination, which enables them to ascend back to the world
of images of God in his immanence. Phenomenologically, this ascent through the
active imagination to the world of the image within the One God is none other than
the practice of radical reduction.
The logic that dominates this world of reflected images in God’s immanence is
expressed in various Gnostic traditions, including Buddhism, with the metaphor of
light. In this image, a single divine Light appears, or becomes revealed, in two
degrees. First, the single Light becomes diversified by reflecting itself in the infinite
mirrors of human beings. Second, the mirrors reflect one another, and produce
through these reciprocal interlacing, a world of extremely complicated images. This
event is expressed in various traditions in a similar way, for example, with the the-
osophy of Ibn-Arabî, in Huayan/Kegon Buddhism (especially with the idea of
rijimuge/jijimuge (理事無礙 · 事事無礙): Mutual penetration between principle
and fact/mutual penetration between facts, in the Tantric mandala, or in Jewish mys-
ticism with the Sephiroth.9
The intermediary imaginal world (mundus imaginalis): This kind of world of the
image, as produced by the Light in reflecting in its immanence in the infinite mir-
rors, would constitute the ultimate phenomenological field, as a pure appearance
which floats without any substantial material coming from the world created out of
nothingness. It is the intermediate world between the divine One and the material
multiple which Corbin tries to express with the terms “mundus imaginalis”, “inter-
mediate world” and “imaginal”. The latter is term he forged as a translation of the
Arabic word “alam al-mithal” (the world of similarities), and which was used
mainly by Sohrawardî. It is an autonomous world of the archetypal image with
independent status with regard to faculties of knowledge such as sensibility, under-
standing, and reason. Under the influence of the modern dualism of mind and mat-
ter, we must not confuse this world of the image with the unreal imaginary or
Kantian schematism. Such a degradation of the imagination in its original meta-
physical function originates, on the one hand, from the dual theology of Averroes,
which does not admit the intermediate world between the Creator God and the cre-
ated world, and, on the other hand, the modern, Western dualism of the mind and
matter. By denying respectively the “first creation by the creative imagination” and
the “intermediate world between spirit and matter,” these doctrines lose the reality
of the world as well as retreat into an unreal world of worldly representations.
The new reduction and a phenomenology/hermeneutics of the symbol: the new
phenomenological reduction which Corbin elaborated on the basis of Islamic
theosophies, especially in Ibn-Arabî and Sohrawardî, is none other than the return
of the unreal world which passes from the whole dimension of “an intermediary
image” to the real world produced by the creative imagination as self-revelation in
See Henry Corbin, op.cit., I.3. “Les diagrammes de l’Un unifique et des theosophies multiples.”
9
182 S. Nagai
the image of Reality itself. Here, the phenomenal field of the archetypal image dis-
covered by the radicalized reduction to the soul at the bottom of consciousness
replaces transcendental subjectivity. In concrete terms, this means that the world of
horizontal meaning is transformed into the world of the vertical symbol: the phe-
nomenological reduction in Corbin is the transmutation of the whole world into the
symbol of God.
As developed here, the phenomenology of the symbol is nothing other than a
hermeneutics, and vice versa, since the symbol is an object which is not there to
perceive or feel, but to interpret, or, in other words: to reveal. It is Heidegger who
described his phenomenology as the “unveiling of the hidden” in order to mark the
distance between the phenomenality of Being and the world of horizontal meaning.
He does this by introducing into Being and Time a hermeneutics as an additional
method for phenomenology. However, how does the phenomenology/hermeneutics
of the symbol in Corbin differ from that of Being in Heidegger?
In Heidegger, the “unveiling of the hidden” is only the ontological difference,
that is, the appearance of beings in the withdrawal of Being as nothingness from the
totality of beings. In the formula “unveiling of the hidden”, the meaning “of” signi-
fies the radical negation of the totality of the world, whereas in the hermeneutic
phenomenology of the symbol, the conjunction “of” in the same formula “unveiling
of the hidden” signifies absolute identity, without any duplication by negation,
between the hidden and the apparent. We can use for this a Buddhist expression we
have already mentioned: “one equal multiple” (一即多). As we have seen above,
in the imaginal world as infinite reciprocal reflection of the multiplied lights of the
Light, the “hidden” does not withdraw from its “revelations” as their negation; the
two are totally transparent to one another. In other words, it is precisely the hidden
itself which self-appears as its own symbol.
The “unveiling of the hidden” as an experience of God, or better still, its sym-
bols, is practiced in the mystical tradition of Islam (in particular, the Shiite tradi-
tion), in the form of internal spiritual hermeneutics (tâwil). It is a matter of
interpreting the sacred text by relying on the particularity of the Semitic language,
not as a horizontal sign, that is, at the level of the obvious sense, but as a symbol of
God, or archetype of the world; in other words, as implying the infinite virtuality of
hidden meanings. In this context, the “revealing” and the “hidden” become “zâhir”
in Arabic, that is to say, the apparent meaning, exterior or exoteric, and “bâtin,” the
hidden meaning, interior or esoteric. It is the same self-appearing of God-Self, in
the form of the symbol (according to the “tâwil” interpretation), as the apparent
meaning (zâhir), which immediately hides in this very transparent apparition in
virtuality of the One (bâtin).
6 Comparative Philosophy as Metaphysical Phenomenology
After having brought to light the concept of the positive phenomenology of the
imaginal world, let us now return to our point of departure: comparative philosophy.
As a consequence of our considerations above, we may consider comparative phi-
losophy as a practice of positive phenomenology. Indeed, Corbin and Toshihiko
Izutsu, his Japanese colleague, employ the spiritual hermeneutics of “tâwil” as a
means of reading the texts of Oriental mystics, including those from Islamic tradi-
tions. With such readings, structural, symbolic, and archtypical comparisons (and
not merely historical) of Eastern and Near-Eastern traditions become possible.
Whereas historical interpretation can only reveal “ zâhir,” or apparent meanings, in
texts, symbolic readings are able to reveal in the same texts, in symbols of hidden
God, the “bâtin,” namely, hidden, virtual, and infinite meanings.
This means that in this idea of comparative philosophy as a spiritual interpreta-
tion of the symbol, the method coincides with its object, namely the experience of
God as the revelation of the hidden: to interpret mystical texts is nothing other than
to reflect the God-One in its interiority, as, for example, with the notion of the first
creation in Ibn-Arabî’s thinking. This coincidence of the method and object of phi-
losophy, as the completion of knowledge, is precisely the ultimate aim of metaphys-
ics in general, which Hegel thought he had achieved in his own way. Yet, unlike
Hegel, who conceived metaphysics as the return of the Absolute to itself through the
mediation of history, in the metaphysics of Islamic theosophy, the return of God to
Himself takes place immediately, that is, only in the immanence of God Himself, in
the intermediary imaginal world which precedes human history as its archetype.
This a world was entirely mis-understood by Hegel, due to his blind allegiance to
modern dualism. Consequently, in such an intermediate world, on the one hand,
“absolute knowledge” is realized as the inner knowledge of the Absolute, which one
might call “Gnosis” as opposed to the knowledge of modern science. On the other
hand, this “absolute knowledge,” exactly for the same reason that it occurs in the
immanence of God, or rather as God Himself, never ends. And it is only “zâhir” and
“bâtin” of “ tâwil,” as spiritual interpretations of symbols proper to Islamic mysti-
cism, which makes possible this infinite itinerary of God’s return to Himself, as
“absolute knowledge” uncontaminated by worldly history.
7 Conclusion
In this manner, the three-fold reduction which we promised at the beginning of this
paper has been accomplished. The imaginal world, which we arrived at through the
practice of a radicalised reduction on the model of the mystical experience of Ibn-
Arabî, is, as a world purely phenomenal of archtypical image, the new field for
“positive phenomenology.” It is in this world of pure phenomenality that metaphys-
ics becomes once again possible as immediate return to God-One to Himself in
184 S. Nagai
radical immanence; and finally, this phenomenological metaphysics becomes real-

ized as the “revelation of the hidden,” or comparative philosophy, as constituted in
its form par excellence.
References
Corbin, Henry. 1969. L’imagination créatrice dans le soufisme d’Ibn Arabî. Paris: Aubier.
———. 1981. Le paradoxe du monothéisme. Paris: L’Herne.
———. 1991. Philosophie Iranienne et philosophie comparée. Paris: Buchet/Chastel.
Masson-Oursel, Paul. 1923. La philosophie comparée. Paris: Alcan.
Shin Nagai (Ph.D., Toyo University) is Professor in the Department of Philosophy, Toyo
University. His publications are in the field of French phenomenology, metaphysics, and mysti-
cism, including The Turn of Phenomenology into the “Inapparent” (Tokyo, 2007) and Philosophie
japonaise (2013). He studied phenomenology at Paris-Sorbonne University under the guidance of
Jean-Luc Marion. He also devoted himself to the exploration of Judaic thought, especially its mys-
tical Cabbalism, under the direction of Rabbi Marc-Alain Ouaknin.

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Contributions To Phenomenology 101

In Cooperation with The Center

More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/5811

ISSN 0923-9545 ISSN 2215-1915 (electronic)

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019

 ishida and Tanabe: Two Dominant Figures in Modern

phenomenology. Yet Nishida considered that Husserl’s thinking shared marked

 ew Generation: The Assimilation of Husserlian

For both Nishida and Tanabe, phenomenology represented a novel development in

received an invitation to visit Japan, which, however, he was unable to accept.

Otaka dedicated his work to Husserl.

 eidegger’s Impact on Japanese Philosophy: Kuki, Miki,

In addition to the growing influence of Husserlian phenomenology in Japan during

See Light 1987 for details.

specialists from different areas of phenomenological research. The authors brought

Pennsylvania, PA, USA Nicolas de Warren

Akrasia and Practical Rationality: A Phenomenological Approach ���������� 1

Demystifying Roman Ingarden’s Purely Intentional

Nicolas de Warren (Ph.D., Boston University) is Associate Professor of Philosophy

Shigeru Taguchi (Ph.D., University of Wuppertal) is Professor at Hokkaido

Abstract Akrasia, or weakness of will, has been a significant philosophical prob-

Keywords Action · Agency · Akrasia · Emotion · Practical rationality · Weakness

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019 1

phenomenology of akrasia with the rich phenomenological descriptions of will and

2 Problem of Akrasia and Phenomenology

Conversely, many phenomenologists consider akratic action to be natural or

case indicates that actions follow intentional emotions. Emotive perceptions of

We shall consider how an agent is motivated to an akratic action on the basis of

Cf. Arpaly 2000, p. 506.

The phenomenological analysis of intentional emotion, as well as habit, conceives

6 Huckleberry Finn and Love

The value of a vocation is not chosen by an ‘impartial observer’ (Smith 1759) or an

It is through repentance that we can overcome our past crimes, bringing us to a

Phenomenological philosophy notices intentional emotions and their cognitive and

Abstract This paper examines the problem of how experience is constituted as a

Keywords Husserl · Brentano · Time-consciousness · Time · Skepticism

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019 17

t­heory that needed to be overturned.2 However, the publication of Husserl’s middle

2 I ntroduction of Apprehension Theory: Criticism

In Early Manuscripts as well as the descriptions published in the Lecture of

explained this with original association. It refers to “general psychological law,”

Thus, the now-inscription theory is characterized at first by (1) the time-position

4 Subsequent Reflection Theory

Norio Murata (Ph.D., Hitotsubashi University) is Professor of at Tokai University, Kanagawa. His

Keywords Husserl · Constitution · Material reality · Circularity · Infinite regress ·

In Ideas II and other works, Edmund Husserl offers a constitutional analysis of

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019 29

However, as I have suggested in the introduction, there is a seemingly serious dif-

However, this account is clearly inadequate. To begin our demonstration as to

4 From Circularity to Infinite Regress

5 Reality as a Holistic Emergent Property

However, there is an alternative conception of property-conferral, which can be

For another possible illumination, see the concluding remark below.

First, in order for a system of scheme manifold to qualify as reality-bestowing, it

right-hand of (H3)—and not the metaphysical possibility of (H3-R) itself. In this

In this essay, I have considered a problem for Husserl’s constitutional analysis of

For a fulfilling discussion of a related point, see BonJour 1985, p. 90ff.

As we saw earlier, this is roughly what (H2) instructs us to do.

Takeshi Akiba (Ph.D., Keio University) is Associate Professor at Chiba University. He is author

Abstract We often expect Husserl’s concept of intentionality to be the key to

Keywords Husserl · Intentionality · Intentional objects · Meaning

Of course, Husserl’s phenomenology imposes upon itself a methodological

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019 45

ishida and Tanabe: Two Dominant Figures in Modern

ew Generation: The Assimilation of Husserlian

eidegger’s Impact on Japanese Philosophy: Kuki, Miki,

Pennsylvania, PA, USA Nicolas de Warren

Akrasia and Practical Rationality: A Phenomenological Approach �� 1

2 Problem of Akrasia and Phenomenology

6 Huckleberry Finn and Love

theory that needed to be overturned.2 However, the publication of Husserl’s middle

2 I ntroduction of Apprehension Theory: Criticism

4 Subsequent Reflection Theory

4 From Circularity to Infinite Regress

5 Reality as a Holistic Emergent Property

6 The Status of Intentional Objects

2 The Problem of “Primal I” in the Crisis

3 Primal I Is Neither One Nor Many

4 Neither-One-Nor-Many in Everyday Language

5 Exclusive and Primal Perspective

6 Transcendental Uncovering of Naturalness

2 Emotions and Knowledge of Value

c haracterized, in the first place, as representing something which has a positive or

3 Two Views in the Early Phenomenology

3.1 The Husserlian View

3.2 The Schelerian View

4 The Advantage of the Husserlian View

5 To What Extent is Emotion Similar to Perception?

2 Experience and the Space of Reasons

3 The Concept of Expression in Ideas I

5 The Concept of Reason: Husserlian Holism

2 Method of Analysis – Noises, Signals, and Motifs