Basic Intelligibility, Teleo-Spaces, and the Discipline of Sense (Reading Wittgenstein's Tractatus 1:0 - 3.5)

 I. The Problem of Basic Intelligibility

Any philosophy that takes itself seriously must eventually confront a question that is almost never stated with sufficient clarity: why is anything intelligible at all?

This is not the familiar question of why particular propositions are true, nor why certain inferential practices succeed. It is the more basic question of why determinacy itself obtains—why distinctions hold rather than dissolve, why meaning does not collapse into either infinite regress or sheer indifference. One may explain this or that truth, but explanation already presupposes a field in which explanation can count as explanation. The deeper question concerns the possibility of sense as such.

Reflection shows that this question cannot be answered algorithmically. An algorithm already presupposes a distinction between correct and incorrect application and therefore operates within a prior space of intelligibility. Nor can the question be resolved by appeal to subjectivity, social practice, or convention, since these themselves function only insofar as distinctions already matter. Even formal logic cannot close the issue. Logic presupposes a field of possible sense in order to operate as logic at all. It does not generate that field.

To name this condition without prematurely domesticating it, I shall speak of teleo-space. A teleo-space is not an entity, a subject, or a hidden metaphysical layer. It is a structured field of intelligibility—one in which distinctions can obtain, norms can exert force, and direction toward sense can emerge without the prior imposition of explicit rules. Logical space is one such teleo-space, but it is not unique. Ethical, perceptual, and practical spaces exhibit the same basic structure. In each case, intelligibility is not conferred by a subject nor derived from convention; it is the condition under which judgment is possible at all.

The thesis hovering over this series can therefore be stated with restraint: regress in meaning, truth, and metaphysics does not terminate in silence, algorithm, or social practice, but in a basic, weighted intelligibility of reality itself. Whether this intelligibility is finally grounded in the Logos is not presupposed here. That question will emerge—or be resisted—under pressure from the texts themselves.

With that pressure in view, we turn to the Ludwig Wittgenstein's first book: The Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. 

The World as Determinate (1.0–1.13)

Wittgenstein opens with a sentence that immediately enforces determinability:

1. Die Welt ist alles, was der Fall ist.
“The world is everything that is the case.”

The world is not the totality of what exists but of what obtains. This is already a restriction of intelligibility. What cannot be the case cannot be said, and what cannot be said does not enter the space of sense.

The point is sharpened immediately:

1.1 Die Welt ist die Gesamtheit der Tatsachen, nicht der Dinge.
“The world is the totality of facts, not of things.”

Facts, not objects, are the bearers of intelligibility. Objects do not explain sense; they participate in it only insofar as they occur in determinate configurations. An isolated “thing” is not yet meaningful. Sense requires articulation; it requires that something could be otherwise. What blocks regress here is not explanation but constraint.

Logical Space and Possibility (1.13–2.0122)

Wittgenstein then introduces logical space as the unified field in which facts are possible:

1.13 Die Tatsachen im logischen Raum sind die Welt.
“The facts in logical space are the world.”

Logical space is not constructed, inferred, or discovered. It is presupposed. One does not assemble intelligibility piece by piece; one always already operates within a field of possible sense.

This presupposition becomes explicit in the discussion of objects:

2.0121 Es wäre unmöglich, die Gegenstände zu denken, ohne sie in einem Sachverhalt denken zu können.
“It would be impossible to think of objects without thinking of them as occurring in states of affairs.”

Objects can only be thought as possibly occurring. Their independence is therefore modal rather than ontological:

2.0122 Das Ding ist selbständig insofern es in allen möglichen Sachlagen vorkommen kann.
“The object is independent in so far as it can occur in all possible situations.”

From the perspective of teleo-spaces, this is decisive. Objects are not intelligible on their own; they are nodes within a space of directed possibility. Any attempt to ground meaning in metaphysical atoms is thereby foreclosed. At the same time, the unity of logical space itself is presupposed rather than explained. It is enforced as a condition of sense.

Simplicity and the Arrest of Regress (2.02–2.0212)

Wittgenstein insists:

2.02 Der Gegenstand ist einfach.
“The object is simple.”

This simplicity is not empirical but logical. Objects mark where analysis must stop if meaning is to arrive at all. The reason is explicit:

2.0211 Wenn die Welt keine Substanz hätte, so würde, ob ein Satz Sinn hat, davon abhängen, ob ein anderer Satz wahr ist.
“If the world had no substance, then whether a proposition had sense would depend on whether another proposition was true.”

If sense depended on further propositions, regress would be infinite. Meaning would never stabilize. Here Wittgenstein aligns fully with the teleo-space intuition: intelligibility cannot be deferred without limit. There must be a given field of determinability within which articulation can occur. What he refuses to do is explain why such a field holds together. He treats it as a condition of sense rather than an object of theory.

Picturing, Logical Form, and Showing (2.1–2.18; 2.172)

When Wittgenstein writes,

2.1 Wir machen uns Bilder der Tatsachen.
“We make to ourselves pictures of facts,”

Wittgenstein is not appealing to psychology. A Bild is a structured representation whose power lies not in mental imagery but in shared articulation. What every picture must share with reality is logical form:

2.18 Was jedes Bild … mit der Wirklichkeit gemein haben muss … ist die logische Form.
“What every picture must have in common with reality … is logical form.”

Logical form is not an object among others. It is the condition of representation itself. This is why it cannot be represented:

2.172 Das Bild kann seine logische Form nicht abbilden; es zeigt sie.
“The picture cannot represent its logical form; it shows it.”

What shows itself here is not ineffable content but unavoidable constraint. No formal system can state its own conditions of operation without circularity. No rule can generate the space in which it functions as a rule. This marks a decisive anti-algorithmic moment in the Tractatus. Wittgenstein blocks explanation precisely where intelligibility is doing its deepest work.

Tension and Orientation

Up through this point, Wittgenstein consistently affirms determinacy, blocks regress, rejects algorithmic closure, and denies subjectivist grounding. All of this converges with the claim that intelligibility is real, structured, and irreducible.

The tension emerges at the question of ground. Logical space is treated as a condition of sense that must be presupposed but not accounted for. The teleo-space framework insists that such presuppositions themselves demand ontological reckoning—not as entities or axioms, but as the condition under which determinacy can obtain at all.

Whether that reckoning must finally appeal to the Logos remains an open question. But the Tractatus ensures that the question cannot be avoided. It disciplines thought into seeing where explanation must stop—and where philosophy must either recoil or press forward.

That pressure is the work ahead.

Disputatio XX: De Theologia ut Actu Verbi et Spiritus

On Theology as the Act of the Word and the Spirit

Quaeritur

Utrum theologia non sit sermo humanus aliis superior, sed ipsa actio Verbi et Spiritus, in qua et per quam omnis loquela theologica habet esse suum—ita ut verbum fidei non solum de Deo loquatur, sed in ipso Dei loquendo subsistat.

Whether theology is not a human discourse standing above others but the living act of the Word and the Spirit, within and through which all theological speech receives its being—such that the word of faith does not merely speak about God, but subsists within God’s own act of speaking.

Thesis

Theology is the continuing act of divine self-communication in language. The Word is its content and the Spirit its cause. Human discourse participates in this act finitely, not by nature but by grace. Thus, theology speaks truly only as it becomes the act of the Word through the causality of the Spirit, the infinite in the finite.

Locus classicus

“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears.”
— John 16:13

This verse establishes the pneumatological condition of all theological truth. The Spirit’s speech is not autonomous but relational and derivative: he speaks what he hears from the Word. The Spirit thus mediates the eternal discourse of the Son within the languages of history. Theology lives as the finite echo of an infinite conversation between Word and Spirit. It is not merely reception of information but participation in an act of divine speaking.

“Qui idoneos nos fecit ministros novi testamenti, non litterae sed Spiritus; littera enim occidit, Spiritus autem vivificat.”
“He has made us competent ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.”
— Second Letter to the Corinthians 3:6

Here the Apostle locates theological truth not in the formal structure of language (littera) but in the vivifying act of the Spirit. The contrast is not between words and silence, nor between doctrine and experience, but between language severed from divine causality and language animated by the Spirit. Theology is thus not the possession of correct propositions as such, but the Spirit-effected act in which language becomes life-bearing. Where the Spirit acts, speech is no longer mere sign but event; not merely meaningful, but true.

Taken together, these witnesses establish that theology occurs only where the Word speaks through the Spirit and the Spirit authorizes finite language to bear divine life. Theology is therefore not a secondary discourse about revelation but the continuing act of revelation in linguistic form.

Explicatio

In human sciences, language and meaning are related externally: propositions describe or directly denote states of affairs. In theology, language and being coincide in the divine act. The Word is the ratio essendi of both creation and signification. The Spirit, as the divine causal medium, renders finite discourse proportionate to infinite meaning, linking felicity (authorized saying) with truth (ontological correspondence).

Let us formalize the relation as an analogy between divine and human discourse:

• Let L∞ denote the eternal Word, the infinite language of divine self-communication.

• Let Lₜ denote finite theological discourse, the language of faith and confession.

• Let Auth(Lₜ) denote the authorization of Lₜ by the Spirit.

• Then, theological truth obtains only if Auth(Lₜ) → (Lₜ ⊂ L∞); that is, finite discourse is true insofar as the Spirit causes its participation in the divine Word.

This causality is non-competitive. Human language remains finite and historical, yet within it the Spirit effects ontological reference. The Word speaks through words. Accordingly, the infinite inhabits the finite without destroying it. Theology is precisely this indwelling speech; it is an act in which divine causality and human signification coincide.

Objectiones

Obiectio I. Kantian Transcendentalism limits cognition to phenomena structured by the categories of understanding. Theology, as human reflection, can express moral faith but not divine causation within thought or speech. To say that theology is an act of Word and Spirit is to mistake moral symbolism for metaphysical participation, violating the autonomy of reason and the bounds of possible experience.

Obiectio II. Barthian Revelationism insists that revelation is the wholly other act of God, never a human process. Theology may witness to the Word but is not itself the Word’s act. To identify theology with the act of Word and Spirit is to blur the infinite qualitative distinction between Creator and creature, turning divine revelation into a form of human religiosity.

Obiectio III. Wittgensteinian linguistic conventionalism teaches that meaning arises from the use of language within forms of life (Lebensform). Theological felicity, then, is determined by ecclesial grammar, not metaphysical causation. To posit the Spirit as the cause of meaning introduces a category mistake,for causes belong to physics, not to language. The Spirit’s “authorization” adds nothing to grammatical propriety.

Obiectio IV. In Hegelian idealism, Spirit realizes itself through human consciousness and divine speech is the dialectical unfolding of Absolute knowing. Theology, therefore, is not a separate act of Word and Spirit but the self-comprehension of Spirit in finite reason. To posit transcendent divine causality within theology is to regress to pre-critical representationalism.

Obiectio V. Within post-liberal theology, theology’s truth is intralinguistic: it is coherence within the Church’s rule of faith. Divine causation is a superfluous hypothesis. Any claim that the Spirit determines what is in or out of T, or that the Word speaks through language, replaces theological humility with metaphysical presumption.

Responsiones

Ad I. Kant’s boundaries define reason’s autonomy, not God’s. Revelation does not transgress the categories of understanding but fulfills them by constituting their very possibility. The Spirit does not add a second cause to human thought but founds its capacity to signify God. Theological cognition is thus not heteronomous but participatory: reason becomes itself when moved by the Spirit to speak truthfully of the Word.

Ad II. Barth’s distinction between revelation and theology guards divine freedom but misconceives the Spirit’s immanence. Theology is not revelation itself but its continuation within the economy of language. The Word once spoken in Christ continues to act in the Church through the Spirit. The Spirit’s causality ensures that theology’s human speech remains the site of divine self-communication, not its substitute.

Ad III. Wittgenstein is right that meaning depends on use, but theological use presupposes a deeper authorization. The Church’s grammar exists because the Spirit constitutes it. Felicity, in theology, is not mere conformity to rules but participation in divine life. The Spirit’s causality is not empirical but constitutive. He makes possible the very relation between finite sign and infinite referent.

Without the Spirit, theological grammar collapses into tautology; with the Spirit, it becomes the living speech of God.

Ad IV. Hegel’s dialectic recognizes the unity of thought and being but confuses participation with identity. The Spirit in theology is not the world’s consciousness of itself but God’s causal presence within finite language. The divine Word does not evolve into human understanding; it speaks through it. Theology is not Spirit’s self-mediation but Spirit’s indwelling of the finite as grace.

The difference between divine and human remains, yet it is precisely in this difference that communion occurs.

Ad V. Post-liberal coherence explains theology’s internal structure but cannot account for its truth. Felicity within the community (FT) requires linkage to truth-conditions (TC) that obtain in divine reality. That link is the Spirit’s causality. The Word guarantees referential content; the Spirit guarantees participation. Thus, theology is neither self-referential grammar nor speculative metaphysics but a dual act: the Word speaking, the Spirit authorizing.

Theological meaning is therefore realist because it is caused.

Nota

To speak of theology as the act of Word and Spirit is to confess that all true theology is God’s own discourse in the mode of the finite.
The Holy Spirit determines inclusion within T (the formal language of theology) and mediates the causal link between felicity and truth.
The Word provides the ontological content of that truth; the Spirit provides its efficacious form.

Hence: FT + TC = Truth of Theological Speech where FT (felicity conditions) ensure internal coherence and authorization, and TC (truth conditions) denote the real divine states of affairs modeled ontologically by T. The Spirit, as both formal and causal principle, unites these two in a single act of divine communication.

Determinatio

From the foregoing it is determined that:

1. Theology is not autonomous discourse but the continuing act of the divine Word communicated through the Spirit.

2. The Spirit’s causality is non-competitive and constitutive: it authorizes human language to bear divine truth.

3. The Word’s eternity is the meta-language within which all finite theological languages (Lₙ) are interpreted and fulfilled.

4. Truth in theology arises when the felicity of human speech (authorization within T) is linked, by the Spirit, to real states of divine being modeled in ontology.

5. The nova lingua theologiae is therefore incarnational: the infinite speaks within the finite, and the finite becomes transparent to the infinite.

In this union, theology ceases to be mere talk about God and becomes God’s own speaking through the creature. Theology is thus the act of Word and Spirit, an event of truth in which language itself becomes participation in divine life.

Transitus ad Disputationem XXI

In the foregoing disputation it was affirmed that theology is not merely a reflective discourse about divine realities but the very event of divine speech, the actus Verbi et Spiritus in which God addresses the world through human language. The theologian, in speaking truly, does not stand before the Word as observer but is caught up within the living exchange between Word and Spirit. Theology thus appeared as participation in a trinitarian act rather than the exercise of a solitary intellect.

Yet this very insight now summons a further inquiry. If theology is the act of Word and Spirit, by what means are these two united and distinguished within the one speaking of God? How does the communicatio between Verbum and Spiritus ground the possibility of theological meaning, such that divine truth may be both given and received? And what does this communication imply for the structure of theological language itself, for its authority, its coherence, and its power to signify beyond itself?

Therefore we pass to Disputationem XXI: De Meta-Lingua Theologiae: De Communicatione Verbi et Spiritus, in which it will be examined how the divine Word and the Holy Spirit together constitute the meta-linguistic horizon of theology, the inner dialogue by which the infinite speaks itself into the finite and gathers finite speech into the eternal conversation of God.

Disputatio XIX: De Meta-Lingua Theologiae et Verbo Divino

On the Meta-Language of Theology and the Divine Word

Quaeritur

Utrum meta-lingua theologiae non sit sermo humanus aliis superior, sed ipsum Verbum divinum, in quo et per quem omnis lingua creata interpretatur; et utrum Deus non habeat aliud verbum de se quam se ipsum, ita ut Logos sit meta-lingua analogice dicta, qua universa loquela humana in veritatem redigitur.

Whether the meta-language of theology is not a human discourse standing above others but the divine Word Himself, in whom and through whom all created language is interpreted; and whether God possesses no other word about Himself than Himself, such that the Logos is the meta-language, analogically so called, by which all human speech is gathered into truth.

Thesis

The only true meta-language of theology is the eternal Word. All human theological languages—old, new, symbolic, propositional—exist as finite object-languages within the field of divine communication. The Logos is both their ground and their interpreter, the infinite discourse in which their partial meanings are united and fulfilled.

Locus Classicus

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” — John 1:1

This verse establishes the primacy of divine speech: before there were languages, there was the Word; before there were signs, there was meaning itself. The divine Logos precedes, grounds, and interprets every act of human speaking. The Word is not one being among others but the intelligible act by which all that is becomes intelligible.

“Tu autem eras interior intimo meo et superior summo meo.”
“But You were more inward than my inmost self and higher than my highest.” — Augustine of Hippo, Confessiones III.6.11

Augustine here confesses that God is not encountered as an object within language or consciousness, nor as a voice external to the soul, but as the interior ground of intelligibility itself. God is nearer than thought and prior to every act of understanding. This inwardness is not subjectivity but ontological priority: the Logos as that by which both mind and meaning are possible.

Taken together, these witnesses establish that the Word of God is not merely spoken to creatures but spoken in them, not as a linguistic artifact but as the living source of sense and truth. The Logos is thus rightly confessed as theology’s true meta-language: not a discourse about God, but God’s own self-articulation in which all created speech finds its meaning and measure.

Explicatio

The notion of meta-language in logic and model theory designates a higher-level language used to describe the rules, syntax, or semantics of another. In theology, such a separation is impossible. No language can stand outside the Word of God in order to describe it, for all language already exists within the act of divine self-communication. All human discourse remains within the domain of divine utterance, because the Word is both the Creator of speech and its ultimate hearer. This meta-lingua is not transcendental consciousness nor a meta-subject interpreting meaning, but the very ratio intelligibilitatis of being and speech.

Thus, when theology speaks about God, it does so within God’s own communicative act. The Logos is not an external commentary on the world but the internal ratio by which it exists and becomes intelligible. Every language—whether philosophical, poetic, or dogmatic—functions as an object-language within the comprehensive “meta-language” that is God’s eternal self-utterance.

This means that the relation between divine Word and human language is not hierarchical but participatory, that is, a relation of constitutive causality in the order of signification. Let us represent this formally (and then explain it):

Let L₁, L₂, L₃ … denote the many object-languages of creation: ordinary speech, philosophical reasoning, scriptural idiom, the nova lingua of faith.

Let L∞ denote the divine Logos, the Word that encompasses and grounds all finite discourse.

Then for every Lₙ, the relation Lₙ ⊂ L∞ holds analogically. This symbol of inclusion does not name a merely logical or set-theoretic relation, but signifies ontological dependence: each finite language exists and is intelligible only through the constitutive causality of the Word. This is not linguistic hierarchy but participation grounded in Logos.

Hence, divine meta-language is not an external code but the infinite ontological horizon of interpretation which precedes and grounds every act of understanding. The Spirit mediates this participation, translating the divine Word into the polyphonic tongues of creation and returning creation’s words into praise.

Objectiones

Obiectio I. Ludwig Wittgenstein and the later linguistic turn argue that language-games possess internal criteria of meaning; there is no meta-language beyond them. To claim that the Logos functions as a meta-language imposes a totalizing framework that violates the autonomy of forms of life.

Obiectio II. Karl Barth maintains that revelation is wholly event and never a stable linguistic form; thus, there can be no divine meta-language, for God’s Word encounters us only as momentary address, never as standing structure of meaning.

Obiectio III. Jacques Derrida and his heirs hold that all language is differential play without final referent or transcendental signified. The claim that the Logos interprets all language reintroduces a metaphysics of presence which deconstruction has exposed as illusion.

Responsiones

Ad I. Wittgenstein rightly observes that meaning arises within language-games at the level of human use. Theology, however, concerns the ground of linguistic possibility itself. The Logos is not a competing game but the fundus of all grammars, the ratio loquendi that makes any signification possible. Without the Word as ontological ground, even internal coherence loses intelligibility.

Ad II. Barth rightly emphasizes the event-character of revelation, but the event itself presupposes the eternal Word. The Logos is not a static structure but the living continuity of divine speech. Revelation as event is the historical manifestation of that eternal discourse. Thus, divine meta-language is not a standing text but the ongoing act of self-communication through the Spirit.

Ad III. Deconstruction’s critique of presence inadvertently confirms the theological claim: no finite language can secure its own meaning. The Logos, however, is not an available presence within language but the transcendent act that bestows meaning upon the play of difference. The Spirit does not close différance but transfigures it into relation.

Nota

To speak of the divine Word as theology’s meta-language is to confess that all truth is linguistic because all being is spoken—not as linguistic construction, but as Logos-grounded intelligibility. The cosmos itself is a sentence within the discourse of the Logos. In this sense, theology’s many models and expressions, as examined in Disputationes XVII–XVIII, are not rival statements but varied declensions of a single Word.

This view transforms the philosophy of language into a theology of communion. Meaning no longer rests upon formal conventions or social contracts but upon participation in the divine speech-act that sustains creation. Hence, all interpretation is ultimately Christological: every word finds its coherence only in the Word made flesh.

Formally we may write (and then explain):

∀w ∈ Lₙ, Meaning(w) = Participation(w, L∞),

where this participation grounds both reference (Refₘ) and the donation of theological sense (Ref*ₗ). Semantic realism thus appears as the linguistic echo of creation’s metaphysical realism.

The Church, as communio verbi, is the living medium of this divine meta-language in history. Its confession, liturgy, and doctrine are not human projections upon silence but Spirit-authorized articulations of the eternal discourse of the Word and Spirit. In the Church’s speech, divine meta-language enters temporal form without loss of transcendence.

Determinatio

From the foregoing it is determined that:

1. The divine Logos is the only true meta-language of theology: the eternal act of meaning in which all created languages participate.

2. All human theological discourse (Lₙ) functions as finite object-language within this horizon; its truth lies in participation, not autonomy.

3. The Spirit mediates this participation, translating the eternal Word into temporal speech and returning human language into praise.

4. Philosophical denials of meta-language rightly expose the limits of human systems but fail to see that divine discourse is not a system but the very act of meaning itself.

Therefore, theology’s meta-language is not analytical but incarnational: the Word made flesh is the hermeneutical center in which all human words are gathered and made true.

Transitus ad Disputationem XX

The preceding disputation has shown that theology cannot transcend itself by means of a higher, detached language. Its meta-lingua is not an external code but the reflexivity of the divine Word within finite speech: the Word illumining itself in the medium of human discourse. Theology thus appears not as commentary upon revelation but as revelation’s own self-interpretation, the finite word drawn into the infinite articulation of God’s Logos.

Yet this discovery opens a deeper question. If theology truly occurs within the self-speaking of the Word, what is its mode of actuality? How does the human act of theologizing participate in the divine act of speaking? What role belongs to the Spirit, through whom finite utterance is gathered into the living voice of God?

Therefore we advance to Disputatio XX: De Theologia ut Actu Verbi et Spiritus, in which theology will be considered not as a superior human discourse about the divine, but as the very action of the Word and Spirit—an event wherein God, in speaking through human language, continues the eternal dialogue of truth within time.

The Paradox of Transcendental Reflection

I first read the Critique of Pure Reason seriously over four decades ago. Like many novices reading Kant, I was impressed by the epistemological distinction between the a priori and a posteriori and the semantic distinction between synthetic and analytic judgments. Kant’s question intrigued me: By what right do we claim truth in synthetic a priori judgments? What justifies the assertion that deep reflection allows for an advancement of knowledge about the ultimate features of reality?

Kant claimed that a true analytical judgment is one where the meaning of the predicate is included in the meaning of the subject, while a true synthetic judgment is one wherein the meaning of the predicate is not so included. A synthetic judgment is thus “ampliative,” that is, to say that “all bachelors are happy” is to make an assertion that cannot be known to be true simply by thinking deeply about what the word ‘batchelor’ means.

As is well-known, Kant criticized traditional metaphysics by showing that its claim to extend knowledge “beyond the realm of possible experience” was chimerical. In the absence of intuition – that which is “given” through sensation – concepts simply relate to other concepts analytically or semantically. Since no intuitions “fall under” the concept ‘God’, we cannot know that ‘God loves human beings’, unless, of course, we are able to claim this to be merely an analytical truth, that is, that the concept of ‘God’ includes as part of its very meaning ‘loving human beings’. Putative metaphysical judgments that turn out to be analytical in this way are, for Kant, “regulative judgments.” While incapable of miming the ontological contour of the supersensible world, they are useful in ordering our supersensible concepts, and thus our thinking about the supersensible world. Kant thought his analytic/synthetic distinction exhaustive. Either judgments are analytic or synthetic; tertium non datur.

In reading the metaphysical and transcendental deductions of the Critique, I was struck by the oddity of what Kant was writing and what I was doing in reading. Kant was offering arguments about how it is that knowledge consists in the application of concepts to intuitions such that there is a “synthesis of the manifold of sensation.” I thought that what he wrote was plausible and was even able to grant that what he said was likely true. But with this an uncomfortable argument seems to emerge.

Let us regard as true the Kantian statement, ‘an object is that by concept of which the manifold of sensation is united’. If this statement is true, it must be true either analytically or synthetically. But clearly it is not an analytic truth for no amount of simple reflection upon ‘object’ allows one to conclude by meaning alone the concept ‘that by concept of which the manifold of sensation is united’. Therefore, it must be true synthetically.

But now the discomfort becomes acute because it is unclear what sensible intuitions must be united to make true the judgment ‘an object is that by concept of which the manifold of sensation is united’. Synthetic judgments for Kant are true a posteriori except for arithmetic and geometry which make direct appeal to the pure forms of sensibility. But neither sensibility nor its pure forms are synthesized in judging true the proposition, ‘an object is that by concept of which the manifold of sensation is united’. Accordingly, the sentence seems to be left without justification, and with it a great many of the statements Kant employs in his discussion of the transcendental unity of apperception.

Clearly, I had stumbled upon the paradox of transcendental reflection. Kant asks his readers in the Critique of Pure Reason, “What are the necessary conditions for the possibility of experience as such?” After claiming that all propositions are either analytic or synthetic and that synthetic a priori metaphysical judgments are problematic in extending knowledge beyond the realm of possible experience, he writes hundreds of pages in which he is seemingly using synthetic a priori judgments justifying these claims. Kant’s transcendental reflection apparently did not have to follow the same justificatory practices with respect to knowledge and truth that our reflections on the nature of things must follow. When reflecting upon the conditions of our knowledge of the nature of things, we no longer need to play by the same rules as we do when reflecting simply upon the nature of things.

Transcendental reflection, our thinking about how we think things, is exempt from the rules it prescribes to our thinking of things. Kant had perhaps “done away with knowledge of God to make room for faith,” but in doing so he created a cottage industry for philosophers. They who could not with justification lay out the truth conditions of ‘God created the universe’ -- there are no intuitions united either under the concept ‘God’ or the concept ‘created the universe -- could now claim truly this statement: ‘The judgment that ‘God created the universe’ cannot be regarded as true because there are no sensations falling under ‘God’ and ‘creating of the universe’. While clearly this proposition is a priori, we need no longer worry if it is synthetic or analytic. It is a statement within the field of transcendental reflection after all, and while such reflection sets the rules for meaning and truth for other provinces, like the Politburo of the old Soviet Union, it is wholly exempt from the rules that it prescribes for others.

The problem of transcendental reflection is a problem of grounds: What legitimates claims of transcendental truth? Why can we not ask with sense whether the statement ‘truths divide exhaustively between the analytic and synthetic’ is itself an analytic or synthetic statement? After noticing that true judgments are both “clear and distinct,” Descartes argued that clarity and distinctness form the very criteria of truth. Analogously, we might argue that reflections that philosophers regard as true that do not meet the truth criteria of what they prescribe are transcendental. Accordingly, the claim that we can say truly that there are conditions that do not apply to what is said truly actually constitutes the very criteria of the transcendental.

The problem of the transcendental standpoint and the truths discerned in occupying it has often been overlooked or ignored. The verificationist criterion of meaning asserted that only those propositions are meaningful that are comprised of tautologies or can be checked up upon in experience. But clearly, the statement that ‘only those propositions are meaningful that are comprised of tautologies or can be checked up upon in experience’ is neither a tautology nor can it be checked up upon in experience. Faced with the inability to say with truth the material conclusion of their argument, some retreated to regarding the statement as neither true nor false, but merely a proposal. Of course, this begs the questions of why one would be motivated to adopt the proposal in the first place.

The twentieth century, though often increasingly wary of transcendental reflection, has nonetheless had difficulty avoiding it. After laying out the conditions making possible propositions of sense, Wittgenstein in the Tractatus points out that none of the propositions he has written can be regarded as either true or false. They are like a ladder one climbs that can be thrown away upon reaching the summit. Such propositions might be elucidations, but they themselves have no truth conditions. Wittgenstein famously says that while saying what cannot be said, he nonetheless hopes in this saying that something might be shown. While one cannot state the conditions for the meaningfulness of propositions meaningfully, one can nonetheless show in one’s saying how to use propositions meaningfully. Wittgenstein notes sadly that the most important things of life cannot be said.

Wittgenstein knew that Russell’s paradox had spelled doom to Frege’s logicist program. That program depended upon the unrestricted use of the axiom of comprehension within set theory, the notion that any set of conditions clearly demarcate and distinguish sets from one another. Set theorists make extensive use of sets that have sets as their own members. Given the axiom of comprehension, this condition should uniquely determine sets, that is, for all sets, either they have sets as members of themselves or they don’t have sets as members of themselves: tertium non datur.

Russell then asked us to consider those everyday sets that don’t have sets as members of themselves, e.g., the set of elephants has as its members elephants, not sets of elephants. He directs us to consider the collection or set of all of sets that are not members of themselves. Now since we can ask with sense whether a set is a member of itself or not a member of itself, and tertium non datur, we can ask with sense whether the set of sets that are not members of themselves is itself a member of itself or is itself not a member of itself. A little reflection shows that if the set of all sets is a member of itself, that is, is a member of the set of all sets that is not a member of itself, then it itself must not be a member of itself. Conversely, if the set of all sets that are not a member of themselves is not a member of itself, then it must be a member of itself. That this paradox was not allowed in logic shows that somehow logic was not going to be regarded as a case of transcendental reflection, for it itself must obey its own rules!

That logic must obey its own rules is assumed in the celebrated Incompleteness proof of Gödel. He showed that paradox arises on the assertion that all known mathematical truths (tautologies) can be derived from a finite set of axioms. By ingeniously semantically encoding information into the syntax of arithmetic, it can be proven that there will always be a provable true proposition G from some axiom set that states that it itself cannot be proven on the basis of that axiom set. Adding a new axiom will not solve this problem because a statement can be proved stating that it cannot be proved on the basis of the new axiom set. While logicians carefully distinguish their metalanguage from the object languages about which the metalanguage speaks, they do not countenance theorems in the metalanguage contradicting those of their object languages.

Paradox dooms logic, but not transcendental reflection! How else can we explain the rise of phenomenology with all its fanfare and hopes? Reading the texts of Husserl, Heidegger and others brings us again into the orbit of the transcendentality that Kant had birthed, and Fichte, Shelling, Hegel and others so effectively exploited.

The phenomenological tradition of such reflection differs from the Neo-Kantian tradition in that while the latter is engaged with the principles by which knowledge is legitimately had, the former utilizes evidence.  Husserl realized that truth is itself not something that can be accounted for on naturalistic assumptions, and thus argued that so-called natural truths must rest upon non-natural grounds. Accordingly, the very grounds of the truth of metaphysical truths must be non-metaphysically investigated. One must go zu den Sachen selbst and bracket questions of metaphysics and the natural world in order to apprehend those grounds upon which the natural world and metaphysics rests. These grounds, thought Husserl, were to be found in the direct apperception of that which is immediately given to consciousness.

But phenomenological reflection proved to be no easy task, and reflection on “the things themselves” was soon seen to involve reflecting upon many other things, some of which were not so unambiguously evidence. In fact, the criterion by which to evaluate the nature and strength of evidence was not clearly something one could simply “see” evidentially. Marshaling evidence and relating that evidence to philosophical problems seems to involve principled transcendental reflection. Husserl knew this, and by the publication of Ideas in 1913 adopted the position of transcendental idealism that he once wished to bracket. Transcendental reflection demonstrated the necessity of a transcendental ego related noetically to the Sinn-world of noematic content. This transcendental ego could not be examined phenomenologically without presupposing that very ego under investigation. The problem was that transcendental reflection seemed to require a transcendental ego that was, by definition, not amenable to phenomenological investigation.

It is at this stage that Heidegger enters our story, penning Sein und Zeit and striving mightily therein to avoid the paradoxes to which Husserl’s hidden transcendental ego fell prey. By re- thinking what a transcendental ego really is, Heidegger was able to avert the problem of how the transcendental ego can direct itself upon its world. For Heidegger, the occult ego of Husserl became Being-in-the-world, Dasein. The ego is already embedded in its world and it is this embeddedness. With this step Heidegger would try to do something nobody had yet succeeded in accomplishing. Heidegger wanted phenomenologically not only to access those beings in the world that constitutes the basic experience and structure of Dasein, but he wanted to examine the conditions for the intelligibility of phenomenologically accessible beings in the world; he wanted to coax out of hiding those worldly conditions making possible beings in the world. His interest was in the be-ing (“to-beness”) resident within the horizon of the world itself. He claimed that his investigation was ontological, that it had to do with be-ing, that is, it concerned not primarily beings, but those conditions of intelligibility that made possible the intelligibility of beings as such. 

But Heidegger’s work in Sein und Zeit was beset by transcendental paradox as well. His pointing out of different ways of being seems at times to leave out the very possibility of a way of being doing the pointing. Take, for instance, his distinction between Vorhandensein (present-at-hand be-ing) and Zuhandensein (ready-to-hand be-ing). This distinction is fundamental for Heidegger. Objects appear to us either as “present-at-hand” or “ready-to-hand”, either as objects having properties or as equipment to be used in our everyday pragmatic concerns. But what is the being of the one who distinguishes be-ing-present-at-hand from be-ing-ready-to-hand? Is the distinction between the objective and pragmatic an objective or pragmatic distinction? If neither, then should Heidegger not have distinguished some other category beyond the objective and pragmatic?

Heidegger’s detailed analysis of the be-ing of Dasein in Sein und Zeit seems to push towards theoretical comprehension, a present-at-hand description of those fundamental structures that are not in themselves present-at-hand. But this is exactly what transcendental reflection does: It attempts a theoretical description of a province of being that cannot be theoretically described.  Transcendental phenomenology perhaps has made the most valiant attempt to grant explicit truth conditions for statements of the transcendental. Clearly, Husserl was attempting in his formal ontology to escape the paradox of transcendental reflection.  But as mentioned before, the hope that there could be a stable province of being impassible to its own investigation was quickly extinguished by Heidegger's insight that knowing being is itself an activity of being, that at the foundation of being, there is be-ing, and that there is be-ing all the way down, as it were.  

The paradox of transcendental reflection are encountered by a being, who in its be-ing, has be-ing at issue for it. Such reflection and paradox can sometimes be brought to the surface by the Geisteswissenschaften, who realize profoundly that the Naturwissenschaften proceed so successfully because they exclude what to the human spirit is central: We are not who we are and can never not be who we are.  Difference rules the first set of disciplines and identity the second. 

So what is deeper in human experience, the geistliche paradoci of transcendental reflection, or the tidy coherency of  natural science?