Monday, May 3, 2010
CPR, The Finale.
When I wrote my last entry, there were hints of this. An overarching goal, a greater 'reason'. It now seems to manifest itself in the last few pages of the CPR, as the syllabus takes its last breath and goes to sleep.
If not keen as to why Kant was writing CPR, it seems that there was an objective in mind. Throughout the work the writing style was painful, exhaustive--different from other works. But the manner in which the writing built upon itself was amazing. Piece by piece, the transcendental was constructed from the ground up to this point, the zenith of CPR's pyramid.
The cannon of pure reason distills the questions of CPR, we finally get to see why the Critique is necessary and why it is so important; the world is constituted by morality which is established by the practical interest of pure reason. It is important to note a distinction here. Pure Reason, as designated by Kant, is of worth because it is a negative faculty that does not serve as an organon or expansion of thought, but rather a disciplinary tool or "guard against errors."(CPR672)
The exclusionary aspect of CPR then leaves three questions.
1.What can I know?
2.What should I do?
3.What may I hope?
Kant's pace here is more efficient by leaps and bounds. However, it may move too fast. This is, after all, his crowning moment, his fifteen minutes of fame, his proverbial Alamo. His answers are relatively brief ( A:1. What I can know is speculative, revert back A:2. This is an answer of practical philosophy, specifically moral and is not subject to this critique A:3. Both practical and theoretical, something is because something ought to happen). (CPR677)
These answers are brief, but still leave much to be questioned later. I hope because happiness ought to happen. This passes. But the interjection of God when answering why we have a notion of duty provides discontinuity for me. "Morality is only an idea, the realization of which rests on the condition that everyone do what he should, i.e., that all actions of rational beings occur as if they arose from a highest will..." The cause of all morality in the world is then drawn from the "morally most perfect will, combined with the highest blessedness." (CPR 679-680)
Morals=God?
Not quite. The moral world, a world which we do what we are supposed to do and everyone is happy, would be a consequence of our conduct in the sensible world. Therefor, morals do not lead to god, but lead to a future life in which the concept of God and hope are ostensibly interconnected.
God=Perfection of Morality?
If you were a Kantian and and an atheist, sit down. Kant creates what seems to be an allusion to the Kingdom of God in the New Testament. Some of us are evil(immoral) and must pray(hope) for a future in which God's kingdom (the morally mot perfect will providing the future life not separated from obligation) and we will all be saved. Pardon the iconoclastic summary.
But does this prove God? Earlier, Kant wrote of how CPR was an exercise of 'negative' thought, that is exclusionary thought that should be used to determine what is impossible, not what is. This makes criticism much more difficult, as one cannot necessarily disprove Kant's moral world, but can question it.
One question that came to mind was the subjectivity of "The Morally Perfect Will", how does morality prove that there is a god, even if I were to assume a primordial being capable of establishing the rules of the game? Kant later answers that the being would have to be omniscient and omnipresent, the divine being must know all and be a single voice in order to know of and create the moral world.(CPR 686)
Once again, we are left with more questions than answers. I am not sure. Kant's arguments follow a very precise logical path to get here, but the origin of morality seems flimsy to say the least. It is designed not to be definitive, yet is used in order to make authoritative points in Kant's later works. I remain a critic.
"No one will be able to boast that he knows that there is a God...for if he knows that, then he is precisely the man I have long sought."(CPR689)
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Maimon's Critique of the Critique
Maimon looks at the relationship between logic and transcendental philosophy in the first part of his sixth letter, and claims that Kant inverts the two. While the logical forms are all that can be truly known, they “have no meaning at all when abstracted from their transcendental meaning.” (185, emphasis in original) One cannot give the meaning of logical affirmation and negation apart from the corresponding transcendental concepts of reality and negation. Maimon then goes on to argue that logical reality and negation presuppose the transcendental and absolute categories and “otherwise they would not have meaning at all.” (186) Logic must, therefore, have transcendental philosophy as its premise, rather than the other way around, as Kant has it.
Part of Maimon’s objection rises from his contention that the logical forms have not yet been subjected to proper scrutiny and have always just been assumed to be valid and complete, since they were proposed by Aristotle. “[The Critique of Reason] assumes [the logical forms]…even though without a previous critique they cannot be either correctly determined or complete in number, and cannot have either a meaning or a ground.” (186) So, to use the logical forms as a basis for transcendental philosophy would be to base that philosophy on an unproven foundation.
Even with his problems with the logical forms, Maimon still has problems accepting things in themselves as objective, as we see in the previous post. For Maimon, we cannot know anything objectively because we can only know our representations, not the things in themselves. If, as Maimon seems to believe, we cannot truly know things in themselves, but can only have perfect knowledge of pure thought, i.e. logic and math, then we seem to be on a slippery slope towards solipsism. For, if we cannot know anything objectively, but can only be sure of representations and pure thought, then how can we truly know that anything actually exists outside of our mind? This is, obviously, a position that one would not want to hold, but I think is one that could be drawn from Maimon’s skepticism.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Philaletes Skeptic Letters
Monday, April 26, 2010
How Exactly did Kant get Caught in the Middle of an Aenesidemusian Love Triangle? Idk...
In his Review of Aenesidemus, J.G. Fichte provides insightful commentary on the skeptical criticisms made by G.E. Shulze in regard to Karl Leonhard Reinhold’s Philosophy of the Elements. Essentially, Shulze, or Aenesidemus, argues against the validity of Reinhold’s first principle, which highlights the subject’s faculty of representations. This principle is referred to as the “principle of consciousness,” which, in a transcendentally idealistic fashion, designates the title of “cause” to the subject and “effect” to the object, or representation. (Review of Aenesidemus, 139, 149). Ultimately, Fichte is rather sympathetic to Shulze’s commanding criticisms of Reinhold even though he believes that Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason is not as affected by Shulze’s remarks.
Fichte almost entirely champions Aenesidemus’s argument in the opening of his Review. The problem with Reinhold seems to lie in the statement “in consciousness, representation is distinguished by the subject from the subject and object, and is referred to both” (ROA, 138). In other words, Reinhold presumes that the subject is inherently different from the object, and is responsible for understanding the relationship between subject and object. Fichte highlights some setbacks that Aenesidemus found in the principle of consciousness, which culminate in the subject being reduced to the same level as the object: (1) the principle of consciousness cannot be the absolutely first proposition since it is subject to the principle of contradiction (2) distinguishing and referring are not enough to completely determine the consciousness through itself (3) the principle of consciousness is tied down to “some determinate experience” and “some definite reasoning” (ROA, 138-39). Thus, Fichte seems to agree that the principle of consciousness is not as well founded as it originally seems because it is dependent on many other circumstances.
Fichte then adds to the objections introduced by Aenesidemus. Although he agrees that the principle of consciousness is synthetic instead of analytic, Fichte elaborates on this issue by noting that there must be some sort of thesis and antithesis that undergirds this extremely high-level synthesis that we call consciousness (ROA, 140). Furthermore, delimiting the idea of consciousness even more, Fichte is also in agreement with Aenesidemus in that the principle of consciousness is an abstraction, and not an a priori condition. Fichte strengthens this claim by pointing out that the principle of consciousness is based on empirical self-observation (ROA, 140-41). And thus, consciousness, having been reduced to a mere representation itself, cannot transcend the bounds--nor determine the bounds--of abstraction.
Aside from noting that Aenesidemus does not consistently convey Reinhold’s argument properly (ROA, 143), and adding some of his own criticism, it seems that Fichte is does accept Schulze’s claims to be somewhat of a blow to the new philosophy, albeit not a definitive one. Moreover, Fichte shows us that Reinhold’s desire to provide a first principle was not in vain, in that, by trying to solidify Kant’s philosophy with a first principle, Reinhold helped the “new philosophers” realize that there was still more to be done in order to combat the weighty criticisms of the skeptics (ROA, 153). Thus, in light of Fichte’s Review, Kant’s Critique remained virtually unscathed, but was undoubtedly left in need of some refinement...