A Spirit of Trust

A Reading of Hegel's Phenomenology

Robert B. Brandom

• Publisher: Belknap Press
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9780674239074
• Topic: Philosophie
• Subtopic: Idealismus in der Philosophie

Forty years in the making, this long-awaited reinterpretation of Hegel's The Phenomenology of Spirit is a landmark contribution to philosophy by one of the world's best-known and most influential philosophers. In this much-anticipated work, Robert Brandom presents a completely new retelling of the romantic rationalist adventure of ideas that is Hegel's classic The Phenomenology of Spirit. Connecting analytic, continental, and historical traditions, Brandom shows how dominant modes of thought in contemporary philosophy are challenged by Hegel. A Spirit of Trust is about the massive historical shift in the life of humankind that constitutes the advent of modernity. In his Critiques, Kant talks about the distinction between what things are in themselves and how they appear to us; Hegel sees Kant's distinction as making explicit what separates the ancient and modern worlds. In the ancient world, normative statuses—judgments of what ought to be—were taken to state objective facts. In the modern world, these judgments are taken to be determined by attitudes—subjective stances. Hegel supports a view combining both of those approaches, which Brandom calls "objective idealism": there is an objective reality, but we cannot make sense of it without first making sense of how we think about it.According to Hegel's approach, we become agents only when taken as such by other agents. This means that normative statuses such as commitment, responsibility, and authority are instituted by social practices of reciprocal recognition. Brandom argues that when our self-conscious recognitive attitudes take the radical form of magnanimity and trust that Hegel describes, we can overcome a troubled modernity and enter a new age of spirit.

PART ONE

SEMANTICS AND EPISTEMOLOGY

Knowing and Representing the Objective World

Chapter 1

Conceptual Realism and the Semantic Possibility of Knowledge

I. Classical Representational Epistemology

Hegel opens the first paragraph of his Introduction to the Phenomenology of Spirit by introducing a model of cognitive faculties that he supposes will be most familiar to his readers in its Kantian form:

Knowledge … tends to be regarded as the instrument with which one takes hold of the Absolute or as the medium through which one discovers it. [PG 73]

He thinks no account that has this general shape can meet basic epistemological criteria of adequacy. By showing that, he hopes to make his readers appreciate the need for an alternative model, which he will then supply.

The general character of his complaint against construing cognitive faculties on the instrument-or-medium model seems clear enough. He offers a twofold summary. That model leads to “the conviction that there is”

1. “[A]n absurdity in the Concept of even beginning a process of knowledge designed to gain for consciousness that which is in-itself.”
2. “[A] strict line of demarcation separating knowledge and the Absolute.” [PG 73]

The first objection alleges that theories of the sort he is addressing must lead to a kind of skepticism: a failure to make intelligible the idea of knowing how things are in themselves. The second complaint points to a diagnosis of the reason for this failure: the model excavates a gulf separating consciousness from what it is consciousness of.

He expands on both these points. He fills in the charge that instrument-or-medium theories lead to skepticism by saying:

[I]f knowledge is the instrument to take hold of the absolute essence, one is immediately reminded that the application of an instrument to a thing does not leave the thing as it is, but brings about a shaping and alteration of it. Or, if knowledge is not an instrument for our activity, but a more or less passive medium through which the light of truth reaches us, then again we do not receive this truth as it is in itself, but as it is in and through this medium. In both cases we employ a means which immediately brings about the opposite of its own end; or, rather, the absurdity lies in our making use of any means at all. [PG 73]

In either case, there is going to be a distinction between what things are for consciousness (the product of the exercise of cognitive faculties) and what they are in themselves (the raw materials on which the cognitive faculties are exercised). Something about the character of this distinction, Hegel seems to be arguing, is incompatible with what things are for consciousness according to such a picture counting as genuine knowledge of how things really are (“in themselves”).

He elaborates the problem diagnosed in the second conviction, given in the preceding. It is that the instrument-or-medium picture

presupposes notions about knowledge as an instrument and a medium, and also the notion that there is a difference between ourselves and this knowledge; but above all, it presupposes that the Absolute stands on one side and that knowledge, though it is on the other side, for itself and separated from the Absolute, is nevertheless something real. Hence it assumes that knowledge may be true despite its presupposition that knowledge is outside the Absolute and therewith outside the truth as well. By taking this position, what calls itself the fear of error reveals itself as a fear of the truth. [PG 74]

It is apparently of the essence of the instrument-or-medium model to see such a “difference,” “separation,” two “sides” of one divide, and to understand the job of cognitive faculties to consist in bridging that divide.

This, he thinks, is precisely the predicament that calls forth an inquiry into the nature of the transformation effected by the exercise of cognitive faculties. But he claims that it is a mistake to think such an investigation can remove the difficulty.

To be sure, it does seem that an acquaintance with the way the instrument functions might help overcome this difficulty. For then it would seem possible to get the truth in its purity simply by subtracting from the result the instrument’s part in that representation of the Absolute which we have gained through it. In fact, however, this correction would only lead us back to our point of departure. For [i], if we remove from a thing which has been shaped by an instrument the contribution of that instrument to it, then the thing (in this case the Absolute) is for us exactly as it was before this now obviously superfluous effort. Or [ii], were the Absolute only to be brought a bit closer to us by an instrument, perhaps as a bird is trapped by a lime-twig, without being changed at all, it would surely laugh at this ruse if it were not, in and for itself, already close to us of its own accord. For in this case knowledge itself would be a ruse, pretending through its multifarious effort to do something other than merely bring forth a relation which is immediate and thus effortless. Or [iii], if the examination of knowledge, which we now represent as a medium, makes us acquainted with the law of light-refraction in the medium, it is likewise useless to subtract this factor from the result; for knowledge, through which the truth touches us, is the ray of light itself rather than its refraction; and if this be subtracted, we would be left with no more than an indication of pure direction or empty place. [PG 73]

The argument here seems to be that if there is a gulf separating how things are in themselves from how they are for consciousness that requires the operation of cognitive faculties to bridge it or reunite the two sides, then all that investigation of those faculties can do is reinstitute the gulf, or separation.

I think we can see in these passages the general shape of an argument. But it is hazy, and it is hard to discern both the exact outlines of the class of views it targets and just how the criticism of them is supposed to work. (The haziness of the argument is due partly to the compression of its exposition, and partly to the metaphorical terms in which it is conducted.) To fill in the details, one would have to specify what criteria of adequacy for epistemological theories Hegel is insisting on, what class of theories he claims cannot satisfy those criteria, what features of those theories are responsible for that failure, and how, exactly, the argument for that conclusion works. In the rest of this chapter, I offer one way of sharpening along these four dimensions the argument Hegel is putting on the table here, and an initial characterization of the shape of the alternative model that Hegel proposes to replace the instrument-or-medium model.

To get a better specification of the range of epistemological theories that fall within the target area of Hegel’s argument (metaphorically labeled as the “instrument-or-medium” model), it will help to begin further back. (This is the method we will come to see as at the heart of both Hegel’s practice and his theory: recollection, whose slogan is Reculer pour mieux sauter.) The theories he is addressing are representational theories of the relations between appearance and reality. Representation is a distinctively modern concept. Premodern (originally Greek) theories understood the relations between appearance and reality in terms of resemblance. Resemblance, paradigmatically one of the relations between a picture and what it pictures, is a matter of sharing properties. A portrait resembles the one portrayed insofar as it shares with its object properties of color and shape—for instance, of nose, ear, and chin (perhaps as seen from some perspective). The thought behind the resemblance model is that appearance is veridical insofar as it resembles the reality it is an appearance of. Insofar as it does not resemble that reality, it is a false appearance, an error.

The rise of modern science made this picture unsustainable. Copernicus discovered that the reality behind the appearance of a stationary Earth and a revolving Sun was a stationary Sun and a rotating Earth. No resemblance, no shared properties there. The relationship between reality and its appearance here has to be understood in a much more complicated way. Galileo produces a massively effective way of conceiving physical reality in which periods of time appear as the lengths of lines and accelerations as the areas of triangles. The model of resemblance is of no help in understanding this crucial form of appearance. The notion of shared property that would apply would have to be understood in terms of the relations between this sort of mathematized (geometrized) theoretical appearance and the reality it is an appearance of. There is no antecedently available concept of property in terms of which that relationship could be understood.¹

Descartes came up with the more abstract semantic metaconcept of representation required to make sense of these scientific achievements—and of his own. The particular case he generalized from to get a new model of the relations between appearance and reality (mind and world) is the relationship he discovered between algebra and geometry. For he discovered how to deploy algebra as a massively productive and effective appearance of what (following Galileo) he still took to be an essentially geometric reality. Treating something in linear, discursive form, such as “ax + by = c” as an appearance of a Euclidean line, and “x² + y² = d” as an appearance of a circle, allows one to calculate how many points of intersection they can have and what points of intersection they do have, and lots more besides. These sequences of symbols do not at all resemble lines and circles. Yet his mathematical results (including solving a substantial number of geometric problems that had gone unsolved since antiquity, by translating them into algebraic questions) showed that algebraic symbols present geometric facts in a form that is not only (potentially and reliably) veridical, but conceptually tractable.

In order to understand how strings of algebraic symbols (as well as the Copernican and Galilean antecedents of his discoveries) could be useful, veridical, tractable appearances of geometric realities, Descartes needed a new way of conceiving the relations between appearance and reality. His philosophical response to the scientific and mathematical advances of this intellectually turbulent and exciting time was the development of a concept of representation that was much more abstract, powerful, and flexible than the resemblance model it supplanted. He saw that what made algebraic understanding of geometric figures possible was a global isomorphism between the whole system of algebraic symbols and the whole system of geometric figures. That isomorphism defined a notion of form shared by the licit manipulations of strings of algebraic symbols and the constructions possible with geometric figures. In the context of such an isomorphism, the particular material properties of what now become intelligible as representings and representeds become irrelevant to the semantic relation between them. All that matters is the correlation between the rules governing the manipulation of the representings and the actual possibilities that characterize the representeds. Inspired by the newly emerging forms of modern scientific understanding, Descartes concluded that this representational relation (of which resemblance then appears merely as a primitive species) is the key to understanding the relations between mind and world, appearance and reality, quite generally.

This was a fabulous, tradition-transforming idea, and everything Western philosophers have thought since (no less on the practical than on the theoretical side) is downstream from it, conceptually, and not just temporally—whether we or they realize it or not. But Descartes combined this idea with another, more problematic one. This is the idea that if any things are to be known or understood representationally (whether correctly or not), by being represented, then there must be some things that are known or understood nonrepresentationally, immediately, not by means of the mediation of representings. If representings could be known only representationally, by being themselves in turn represented, then a vicious infinite regress would result. For we would be able to know about a represented thing only by knowing about a representing of it, and could count as knowing about it only if we already knew about a representing of it, and so on. In a formulation that was not extracted explicitly until centuries later by Josiah Royce, if even error (misrepresentation), never mind knowledge, is to be possible, then there must be something about which error is not possible—something we know about not by representing it, so that error in the sense of misrepresentation is not possible. If we can know (or be wrong about) anything representationally, by means of the mediation of representings of it, there must be some representings that we grasp, understand, or know about immediately, simply by having them.

The result was a two-stage representational story that sharply distinguished between two kinds of things, based on their intrinsic intelligibility. Some things, paradigmatically physical, material, extended things, can by their nature be known only by being represented. Other things, the contents of our own minds, are by nature representings, and are known in another way entirely. They are known immediately, not by being represented, but just by being had. They are intrinsically intelligible, in that their mere matter-of-factual occurrence counts as knowing or understanding something. Things that are by nature knowable only as represented are not in this sense intrinsically intelligible. Their occurrence does not entail that anyone knows or understands anything.

As I have indicated, I think that Descartes was driven to this picture by two demands. On the one hand, making sense of the new theoretical mathematized scientific forms in which reality could appear—the best and most efficacious forms of understanding of his time—required a new, more abstract notion of representation and the idea that it is by an appropriate way of representing thing...