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Why caretakers must reflect on the complex desires behind their care-taking.

One of the main reasons as to why reflective self-transformations among caretakers is so difficult lies in the deep need caretakers have of perceiving themselves as doing good to others. Each caretaker must seriously reflect on the nature of such a troubling human need. If no such reflection has been undertaken, the possibility of having a self-critical spirit as regards the caretaker’s own actions becomes more and more difficult to achieve.

It seems the main reason for this dilemma is as follows: the caretaker gives meaning to the narrative of her life through caretaking itself. In this same respect we all admire such individuals for what we (and they) perceive —though this is part of the problem— as their altruistic sacrifice for others. (see Aristotle, NE, Book I) However, this perception only solidifies in the caretaker the sense of their deserving recognition as regards their alleged sacrifice for the other, specially for the pains and troubles one has to undergo —supposedly— in the taking care of the ill. I say allegedly for it would surely be odd to choose a way of life in which one thought of one’s actions solely as a sacrifice! Such a choice would never allow for true happiness in either the caretaker, or the ill person herself! And once such a mental attitude is set firmly, the chances for such a person to reconsider the very foundations of their reasons for doing good become harder and harder to bring forth to the light of criticism. And if the person who seriously asks the caretaker to reflect on their own unquestioned desires and needs is the ill person herself, then sense of ingratitude seems to skyrocket!

This is in part one of the reasons why ill people must hear recognition demanding phrases such as “well, at least you are not in the street, at least you have me, …….”; one of the reasons why most doctors –though not all– will be disappointed when their patient asks for a second opinion; one of the reasons why traditional doctors will become very defensive when spoken of alternative possibilities, telling their patients that if they do so “it is their responsibility, ….”; one of the reasons why families/couples/parents will constantly argue how much sacrifice the ill are for them; one of the reasons why convincing others that illness is not a burden is almost impossible.

Under such conditions, which unfortunately are the norm and not the exception in our human condition, the ill must be careful and have the tools to counteract —even if they are in a condition of total physical disadvantage—- such tendencies which lie in the deepest, most troubling and most ambiguous human needs. The ill must never forget it is they who are at a disadvantage, not those who in their health do not have the courage to undergo a reflective critique of their needs.

In plain language, there is a saying in Spanish, constantly recovered by Doctor Payán, that says “El camino al infierno está hecho de buenas intenciones.” (The path to hell are made through good intentions.”) In literature a dramatic example of such a process lies in the short story entitled “The Yellow Wallpaper” (1899) link by Charlotte Perkins Gilman which tells the story of a husband and ill wife and which should be obligatory reading for ANYONE involved in the caring of the ill. Finally, and most importantly, it is Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics which shows the path towards an understanding of such deeply problematic needs, those needs associated with the goodness presupposed by those who hold the life of virtue as the crowning life for human beings. It is little wonder to find Aristotle arguing that true happiness can never be found in such a sphere (Book X). The life of total dedication to virtue leads only to a secondary kind of happiness.

In other words, the possibility of seeing such dilemmas is inaccessible to caretakers unless they happen to come into contact themselves, or through friendly others, with the critical spirit that guides the liberal arts education which follows the Socratic spirit of courageous, serious and continuous self-reflection on the dangers permeating our deepest, most unconscious, human needs.

(Note: Of course, another extremely powerful view of this dilemma is that of Nietzsche and his genealogical deconstruction of the good. I fear however, that such an approach is so dramatic that most caretakers will not be able even to perceive its importance.)

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For those of us who find the life of Socrates to be a truly philosophical life, perhaps THE model of the philosophical life, some aspects of his two Apologies (for I take Xenophon’s Apology as seriously as Plato’s) truly stand out.

First, these apologies are intended as a defense, a juridical defense of a way of life which physically endangers he who holds fast to its foundations. If this is so, then the first striking aspect of Socratism nowadays lies in that it is very rare to have an academic philosopher actually have to engage in such a public defense. This is odd and puzzling. Perhaps it is because philosophy has opened a space for itself among our democratic societies. But most likely, in doing so, philosophy has lost its most original and powerful reality. To put it boldly, one could even say that philosophy has actually retreated although it thinks itself to be at the very forefront.

Second, the Apologies show something that is altogether striking. Socrates’ audience, once he begins his voyage towards learning of his own wisdom which lies in knowing that he does not know, is not an academic audience. My life within academic circles has allowed me to see argumentation amongst academicians many a time. But herein lies what is striking, Socrates sought in the Apology as his interlocutors others, namely, artisans, poets, and politicians. It is these who find themselves angered by Socrates’ words and actions. It is they who take him to court. In this respect one could say that Socratic philosophy is essentially agoristic, it has its place primarily in the agora, the public space par excellence. Nowadays academic philosophy has lost sight of this and therefore has lost sight of the political foundations of Socrates’ life (Heidegger specially so). In this respect, if one has worked outside academia, it is not surprising to find the very real anger by many towards the “uselessness” of the philosophical life. Little in academic circles prepares one for such anger. Much can and has to be done to redress this.

It is little wonder that in classical political philosophy the civic virtue of courage is mentioned repeatedly. It is mentioned in order to moderate it via the courage of reflection. Little is heard of such topics today; for instance, Aristotle’s books on the virtues within both of his Ethics are quickly passed over as irrelevant to our condition. This amounts to a kind of unreflective surrender. In this same vein, little is said about rhetoric itself, the public political art par excellence. As a matter of fact, this is precisely why Xenophon is no longer taken seriously in academic circles themselves! (How many philosophers actually are such that excellent generals write about them?)

Agoristic philosophy is the foundation of Socratic political philosophy. Actually, agoristic philosophy is the foundation of all serious philosophy (both beyond the seriousness of the spoudaios and the seriousness of the modern intellectual.)

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One of the exciting and relevant reasons for turning to the Greeks is that in the work of some Greek philosophers —-specially that of Plato—- one finds what are perhaps the best, the deepest, and the most lively discussions on the tensions between philosophy and art as conflicting ways of life. In dialogues such as the Symposium, the debate reaches a real climax. There Socrates and Aristophanes battle it out. The basis for their discrepancy in part revolves around the nature of desire and the possibility of human self-sufficiency and happiness.

This is not to say that in modern times one does not find authors who see the importance of touching on such a debate. One indeed finds it particularly in the work of Nietzsche who moves permanently between both camps. Nietzsche the philosopher, Nietzsche the artist; as if unable to decide, as if as moderns we can no longer decide. He seems, in a sense, weary of both activates as we have come to understand them. But of course, Nietzsche touches on the debate in a very different way than Plato. In contrast to Nietzsche’s penetrating psychological fragments on the artist —-arrived at in the solitude of an introspective stance—– the beautifully artistic and dramatic form of a Platonic work such as the Symposium lies in that the dialogue makes the discussion almost alive and politically situated.

Moreover, Nietzsche stands as the primary source of a radical critique which has as its direct aim Socrates and his tradition. This is evident early on in his The Birth of Tragedy in which Socratic rationalism is set up against Greek tragedy which, by the end of the book, is assured its place as the unquestionable winner of the debate. Tragedy reaches the summit of expressive art. However, in tragedy self-sufficiency remains an impossibility because the tragic is by nature akin to the incomplete, to the flawed. Socrates, in contrast, teaches the possibility of self-sufficiency as the highest form of life.

But before pointing out one of the fundamental tensions between Platonic philosophy and art, a brief contextualization. Postmodernism, which began in architecture and therefore is closely linked to art, is the name of a critical stance towards modernity. It is set dead against the modern notion of enlightened reason which seeks to bring everything to the presence of a unequivocal and unimpaired lighting. Some of its proponents go so far as to interpret the work of authors such as Heidegger and Nietzsche in a way that widens the challenge not only to modernity, but rather to the whole of the Western tradition. In this respect they see crucial failings in the very origins of the Western tradition; a tradition whose foundations many find in the works of Plato, specially in his Republic. They emphasize, in this respect, his alleged desire to banish poetry and seek a rational understanding of the whole once we are liberated from the cave.

As the years go by, such an interpretation of Platonic philosophy seems to me less legitimate, less plausible and less interesting. At least three powerful reasons for this position stand out clearly to me now. On the one hand, there is here a confusion between modern reason and the ancient ideal of rationality. Secondly, such proposals are quite blind to the artistic merit of the dramatic form of Platonic philosophy itself which reaches us in the form of carefully, artistically created, dialogues. And finally, such overwhelming critiques fail to recognize the fact that it is Socrates who first tries to understand the political nature of us as human beings living in society. For some, specially in the Straussian tradition, Socrates’ concern is in the first instance with human affairs, not transcendental ideas.

What is the relevance of this debate to contemporary artists? HUGE. On the one hand, they may benefit from reading authors such as Michel Foucault who takes up seriously Nietzsche’s discussions on art. For him the only means of subverting this all-encompassing rationalistic project is life made artistic. The aesthetic configuration of oneself is the sole means of protest in an increasingly alienating world of micropowers. Foucault’s work adamantly defends the possibility of what he calls an “aesthetic of existence”. As he puts it: “the principle work of art one has to take care of , the main area to which one has to apply aesthetic values is oneself, one’s life, one’s existence. “ (p. 245; see also Nietzsche TGS #290) If reason no longer can guide our lives, art must lead the way. But on the other hand, contemporary artists might become more aware of the type of art which they are led to produce in this attempt to seek countermeasures by contrasting this stance with Socratic views of art and, in general, the role of desire in human affairs.

Let me just say briefly that, as far as I can see, the uniting thread which both camps address differently is the topic of “desire”. For the artist desire is the beginning and the end. The beginning for it is that which grants motion to the work, the end because the work expresses desire in a sublimated fashion. The Socratic philosopher, in particular, also begins with desire, but his/her erotic desire reaches out to another very different end. The end is erotic self-sufficiency. Among many other things, Socrates continuously asks whether a desire that has no limit to its gratification can in the end make a person fully human. As against Nietzsche, and the postmodernist defense of tragedy, Socrates defends the possibility of a certain happiness in philosophical excellence.

Xenophon –—who is now little read— captures dramatically this sense of Socratic self-sufficiency in a passage in which Socrates, as is frequently the case, defends himself against an attack which he does not initiate. This dialogical interchange between Antiphon and Socrates might in a sense make us more aware of the nature of desire and its puzzling presence in our human lives. Xenophon reports this conversation went like this:

“It is worthwhile in this regard also not to omit his conversations that he had with Antiphon the sophist. For Antiphon, wishing to draw his close companions away from him, once approached Socrates when they were present and said the following.

“Socrates, I, for my part, thought that those who philosophize should become happier. But you, in my opinion, have reaped from philosophy just the opposite. You live, at any rate, a way of life such as no slave would abide from a master. You eat and drink the poorest food and drink, you wear a cloak that is not only poor but the same one during summer and winter, and you are continuously without shoes or tunic.”

“Moreover, you do not take in wealth —-a thing that both delights in its acquisition and makes those who possess it live more freely and pleasantly. If, accordingly, you too dispose your companions as do teachers of other work as well, who show their students to be their imitators, you should hold that you are a teacher of unhappiness.”  And Socrates replied to this:

“In my opinion, Antiphon, you have supposed me to live so painfully that I am persuaded you would rather die than choose to live as I do. Come now, let us examine what you have perceived to be hard in my life.

“ Is it that those who accept money are under necessity to produce what they are paid for, but that by not receiving it I am in no necessity to converse with whomever I do not wish? Or do you deem my way of life poor in the belief that  I eat less healthy things than you, or things that provide less strength? Or is it that my regimen  is harder to procure than yours because it is more rare and costly? Or that what you furnish yourself is more pleasant for you than what I furnish myself is for me? Don’t you know that the one who eats most pleasantly has the least need of relish, and the one who drinks most pleasantly least desires drink that is not at hand?

“Regarding cloaks, you know that those who change them do so for reasons of cold and heat , and that they put on shoes so that they will not be prevented from walking due to what pains their feet. Now then, have you ever perceived me more than another remaining inside because of the cold, fighting with someone over a spot in the shade because of the heat or not going wherever I wish because of pain in my feet?

Don’t you know that when those bodies are naturally weakest practice they become  stronger at what they practice and more easily bear it than the strongest who does not practice? And don’t you think that, by always practices patient endurance of the things that  chance to befall my body, I bear all things more easily  than you who does not practice?

“Do you think that anything is more responsible for my not being enslaved to stomach or sleep or lust  than that I have other things more pleasant than these that delight not only in their use but also by providing hopes that they will benefit always? Moreover, this at any rate you know; that those who do not think that they are doing well do not experience delight, but those who believe that they are nobly progressing, either in farming or seafaring or whatever else they chance to be working at, are delighted on the grounds that they are doing well.

Then, do you think that the pleasure from all these things  is as great as that from believing that one is becoming better and acquiring better friends? I, for my part,  spend my life holding these things. And if indeed it should be necessary to benefit friends or city, is there more leisure to attend to them in my present way of life or in the one that you deem blessed? And who would go on a campaign more easily, a person unable to live without a costly way of life, or one for whom what is at hand is enough? And who would surrender more quickly to a siege, the person needing what is hardest to find, or the one who has enough when he makes use of what is easiest to abstain?

“You seem, Antiphon, like one who thinks that happiness is luxury and extravagance. But I, for my part, hold that to need nothing is divine (theios), that to need as little as possible is nearest to the divine, and what is divine is best, and that what is nearest to the divine is nearest to what is best.” (Memorabilia I 6, Xenophon, Translated by Amy L. Bonnette; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994)

Interpreting these words is no easy matter. But I truly believe Van Gogh also sought a similar type of self-sufficiency as well. His poverty is very much akin to Socrates’. But what Van Gogh affirmed through his own decisions and desiring activity was quite other than what Socrates held to be the highest good available to humans. One could conclude by saying: seeking to avoid the tension between philosophy and art might leave each of the parties safer to themselves, but safety is not primarily what philosophers or artists are all about.

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(Note: FOR AN ALMOST IDENTICAL PRESENTATION WHICH INCLUDES SOME PHOTOS, PLEASE SEE THE FOLLOWING: link )

On Space, Western Architecture and 9/11

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1. Introduction

Perhaps the best way to surprise oneself is to look a bit more closely at what seems totally obvious. Looking at it more closely may surprise and can give us great pleasure. What was always there, suddenly appears for the very first time. For instance, if you use glasses, you know you never actually see them. Until you loose them; THEN you go into “panic” mode. One such deceptively simple reality lies behind the concept of space. We move through space as fish through water; we rarely even notice it. Again, we seem to do so only negatively, that is, specially when some object obstructs our movements and we trip. Suddenly we find ourselves cursing the thing which made us “think” about space itself!

Or you might wonder at spatial realities we take for granted; for instance, that the space in the classroom —-or in prison, or in the hospital, as Foucault points out—- must be set in such and such a form. If the classroom is simply a set of rows, then the teacher appears as all-governing; if the chairs are set out in a circle, then the teacher becomes a participant, although still a privileged one. And for sure, in many cases there may be no chairs because of poverty. But the issue concerns not simply objects out there, as in the classroom, but even the very way we relate to others. In the previous example of the classroom, the space between students and professors in North America has strict legalistic and prohibitive boundaries; meanwhile, in Latin America teachers and students require a certain closeness which sometimes even involves the comfort of benign touch.

But isn’t space just something quite easy to understand? Under a common view, a view to which we moderns have become accustomed to, the puzzle behind space is easily “answered” by being equated to the distance between things. Want to know the space between two things? Well, just measure it. The measurement gives 2 meters, that’s the space between stuff. (However, even when space is quantified, we cannot agree as to how to do it; some of us use meters, others who are more powerful use feet.)

Leaving aside the issue of how surprising it is that our bodies are fit for space (Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor marvels continuously at this taken for granted issue), and leaving aside the very important Kantian discussion of space, it must be stressed that the relation of the artist to space is quite unique and privileged. Here in dA, specially in the area of photography, one constantly sees amazing photographs of architectural landmarks. Architecture is THE foundational art that deals with the issue of space, in particular, modeling those lived spaces in which we humans inhabit our meaningful spatial world. In this sense, the first cavern which was inhabited was no longer simply a cavern; it had already become a primitive home affording the security of a shelter which allowed for the appearance of symbolic painting, for communal language and for a concern with the divine.

This foundational role of architecture was ironically captured by Frank Lloyd Wright who, while constructing the Guggenheim Museum, had to deal with letters by renowned artists who complained about the impossibility of their art being displayed on the curved walls and low ceilings of the, then, very controversial museum. Wright —-exemplifying his personality—- responded: “If the paintings are too large, cut them in half!” Such words allow us non-architects to acknowledge that architecture has an understanding of space which most of us lack. However, to reflect on the conceptual nature of the space which is the concern of architecture, is a task not all architects may have the skills to do. For this, some philosophers are needed. It is in this respect that architects –one could even say in general those many artists interested in issues of spatiality— and perceptive philosophers —trained in the difficult process of clarification of conceptual realities– must work together to get clearer on the perplexing nature of space. Perhaps in their combined efforts they might cross those spaces and boundaries which separate them. We political philosophers feel the need for such collaboration; do artists and architects?

Furthermore, it seems clear that the way we inhabit space is transformed historically and reflects our political regimes. The architecture of a democracy is not that of an aristocracy; the castle is not the place for a voting society. The architecture of a theocracy, such as that of Iran, is not that of a parliamentary regime. As our brilliant Colombian Architect Rogelio Salmona –creator of the inspiring Virgilio Barco public Library in my beloved Bogotá— wrote: “the architectonic is the path which I followed in order to find that modernity begins with a new perception of space … he who wants to produce another system of figuration, representation and construction of space, must know its evolution and know the moments ruptures are produced.” Spatiality has a history and therefore it is traversed by temporality. In this respect one should not expect the architectural spaces of Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt, Modern Canada, and that of the Inuit’s to be identical. But more primordially, the representation of space by the modern West becomes a topic unto itself.

The political question on the nature of modern spatiality becomes all the more urgent if one attends to the events of September 11, 2001. But you might ask: “what would the way we decide to inhabit space have anything to do with politics (a common theme of all my journals)?” Well one could do an exercise in imagination. The atrocious and cowardly attacks of 9/11 on the USA specifically, and on the West in general (e.g., the later infamous attacks on Madrid in 2004) —–it seems to me—- could be seen as attacks on some of the elements of the Modern Western conception of space. In this respect, the guiding questions for this very tentative journal is: If our views of space not only have personal or artistic values, but more primordially political and theological ones, then: Are the attacks of 9/11, which transformed the world radically, an attack on the very concept of space which guides the western view of spatiality? And connected to this question: Is there something that can be seen as arrogant, even hubristic, about some of our North American architecture, in particular of our financial institutions who have sought to reach the sky through the building of ever taller and taller skyscrapers? But if there is some truth to this, as the anti-globalization marches seem to portray, can we just simply let these institutions collapse without attending to the dangerous repercussions of such positions? More importantly; isn’t the emptiness we all felt after the 9/11 attacks, the very condition which allows us to reconsider our sense of space?

And going further still into very difficult and dangerous territory: does this sense of space as radically secular come into conflict with a sense of space permeated by the presence of the divine? “What do you mean,” you might ask. Well this; a Muslim’s sense of space is radically different from that of a secular westerner. For instance, if you are a secular unbeliever you might consider: have you ever thought about having to kneel down in prayer five times a day –according to the position of the sun— and forcing your body to direct itself towards a spatial reality which is the foundation of your faith, of your very sense of being and of your connection to the divine? [link] Do we westerners —even those who are believers— ever stop five times to reach out for the divine through the positioning itself of our bodies? Or consider the following: a pilgrimage is the way a believers traverses worldly spaces towards a certain reconciliation with the divine. Now, each and every Muslim ––with some monetary and health related exceptions— must do one in his/her life? In contrast: where does our western pilgrimage head towards? Unsure of myself, I ask, can two such different views of space actually find a space to meet? Or must space be obliterated continuously by the two parties, making it a real impossibility for us to inhabit the very same Earth which is our only spatial possibility?

Fortunately for us, there are within our western traditions, architects who have seen the issue very clearly. Among them, Kahn, Wright, Niemeyer, and Libeskind. In this respect perhaps it is worthwhile to remember what Wright thought of modern skyscrapers, the symbol of North American economic power: “Wherever human life is concerned, the unnatural stricture of excessive verticality cannot stand against more natural horizontality.” Words by Wright that could not have foreseen the unacceptable atrocities perpetrated on 9/11 by extremists intent on simply obliterating space.

2. The philosophy of western spatiality; our maps.

So, how could one go about seeing what is behind these different concepts of space, if in fact we move through our spaces as fish move through water? I once asked a young boy how fish took a shower if there were already in water. He was puzzled. I laughed a bit, but I feel the same way with regards to our notion of space. In this respect I laugh a bit at myself. If we are “immersed” in our spatial being in the world, how to find a way to surprise ourselves? Here, recourse to history is one fundamental possibility.

If our understandings of space have a history, then ours is the history of the radical and, hardly questioned, compression of time and space. If previously the distance between us and others we loved was mediated by letters which took long periods of time to reach their destination —-think of how difficult it was to arrange battles as the succumbing of the Spanish Armada shows—-, now the instantaneous connection of those near to us is easily achieved via email, internet messenger, blogging and SMS. Cyberspace complicates the picture even more given that the space of truly realistic video games further deepens our puzzles. The amazing spaces “within” such games, and the spaces shared by those playing on-line is non-existent. Even money and financial transactions have lost their spatial touchability; e-commerce allows virtual reality to guide our everyday transactions. Many of our work relations are likewise mediated by cyberspace, a strange kind of space which we know is nowhere. Just puzzle a bit about our own dA; it allows for the instantaneous communication through thousands of kilometers with fellow deviants who share paintings and photographs that are “spaceless” images repeated constantly and instantaneously (well, almost!)

All in all, it seems as though the reality of spatiality becomes obliterated in our virtual world. I firmly believe this is why, in a world guided by images, the fall of the Twin Towers was perceived by many as a “movie”; which it CERTAINLY WAS NOT. No wonder it is harder and harder for us to even think the question itself. As David Harvey in his amazing The Condition of Postmodernity puts it:

“As space appears to shrink to a ‘global village’ of telecommunications and a ‘spaceship earth’ of economic and ecological interdependencies —to use just two familiar and everyday images —- and as time horizons shorten to the point where the present is all there is (the world of the schizophrenic), so we have to learn how to cope with an overwhelming sense of compression of our spatial and temporal worlds.”

For many this tendency began historically with the emergence of science which required a quantifiable view of space as providing the basis for the certainty of objective data needed to develop a scientific understanding of the world. . But I cannot deal with this issue here (though many, including Taylor, have dealt with the issue extensively; see his “Overcoming epistemology”.)

But, how to get at this problematic if one is not a “trained” philosopher or architect? Well, I will try to show you a way to do it. I will tell you where I live. Goggle maps provide us with the possibility of pinpointing the very exact space which we inhabit. So here is where I live; approximately, just in case any deviant wants to get back at me for having to read such long journals!

http://amelo14.deviantart.com/art/Journal-Space-2-19526771

You look and find everything all too familiar. THAT is part of the problem. But do you have a sense that there is something very limiting about this representation of space? “Well, “ you could reply, “how else can one go around places then?” And I wonder worried, “so you do not see it”. Well, I must not give up and try to allow you to see what is so strange here. Take a look at another period in time in which other types of relations to space existed. Take a look at some early medieval maps:

Paris Map 1250

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Chronicles of St. Denis 1364-1372

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Now you at least see that OUR maps are profoundly different. You look a bit startled. And of course you laugh a bit and say to yourself: “Poor people they were so ignorant then, they just simply did not have the technology to map out correctly their maps.” And I agree, in part: I mean, look at those little houses, well, was that drawn by children? Did Klee draw these maps?

But maybe, you might just start to ponder whether it is YOU who does not see what those maps take for granted. A bit worried, you start to realize that the medieval maps were not guided by the x-y coordinates of the Cartesian grid. In contrast, early medieval maps represent the world in terms of the world’s significance to the inhabitants of these spaces. What mattered was not the distance between the houses, but the houses; and if a given place had a special significance, well, it was actually drawn to stand out. The church, the castle, Prince Amelo’s retreat, were much larger than they actually were in reality. And besides, you might just start to see how your modern eyes are connected to a secular way of seeing the world. The Chronicle of St. Denis is a mapping which involves the stages of the life of a Saint. Remember what we said at the start of the Muslim pilgrimage? Our maps certainly have no sense of any pilgrimage whatsoever; their function is to get us around as quickly and efficiently as possible. Harvey summarizes well the issue: “Maps stripped of all fantasy and religious belief, as well as any sign of the experiences involved in their production, had become abstract and strictly functional systems for the factual pondering of phenomena in space” (249). Charles Taylor, the architectonic foundation of my Ph.D. thesis, adds: “A way is essentially something you go through in time. The map on the other hand, lays out everything simultaneously, and relates every point to every point without discrimination”. (176)

And we wonder how come we have never seen this before. What else might we not be seeing? What else might we not even want to open ourselves to seeing? A firm conviction of the Socratic uneasiness which sets itself up against those who simply know they know, motivates me to write this journal, to face up to my own ignorance of myself and of the spatial world I inhabit daily.

3. The Cartesian model of spatiality in modern architecture: Le Corbusier
and the city of
Brasilia.

But, what does this have to do at all with architecture as the privileged art dealing with space? A lot. The Cartesian gird which informed our maps, itself informed the construction of architectural reality. Even Descartes understood that his method, set out in his Discourse on Method —–the pillar of early modernity—– implied that cities should be ordered rationally by truly rational city planners: “..and the way they make the street twisted and irregular, one would say that it was chance that placed them so, not the will of men who had the use of reason.” (Part II). And what is most intriguing about this whole story, and to be as brief as possible, is that architects like Le Corbusier, in their defense of modernity, tried to implement in their works the presuppositions of this type of rationality based on an overconfident sense of technological progress which would, allegedly, allow for the realization of noble social projects. The rational and efficient use of space is seen clearly in Le Corbusier’s plans for Paris:

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It is a spatial layout which reminds us of images in the famous documentary Koyaanistqatsi, and of images of the inner city projects in North America which later decayed progressively in contrast to the initial intentions of their creators.

But perhaps the single most impressive attempt to instantiate this model is the creation of a capital city itself where nothing stood before. Such is the case of the absolutely amazing example of Brasilia, capital of Brazil, which was built from scratch. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brasilia#A_planned_city It was built during 4 years, starting in 1956, and followed Le Corbusier’s ideals of modernism. As a modernist project, it was built as a totally new beginning, so as to point how modernity is a radical new start which sees previous ages with a bit of disdain. Medieval maps of course appear a bit inferior, they appear as the products of dark ages. Furthermore, to emphasize the radical importance of political space, the capital was built in the very centre of colossal Brazil, in order to ensure the unity of the Nation as was established in the constitution itself.

Brasilia under construction

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But as with our modern maps, the meaningfulness of those inhabiting Brasilia itself took second place. This is why today nobody can go to places in Brasilia without having to deal with excessively long walking distances for the city was designed with an unquestioned and naïve view of the role of automobiles in our modern city streets. As citizens in Brasilia put it in a popular saying that points out the deficiencies of this model of spatiality: “(in Brasilia) the inhabitants are born with wheels instead of feet.” (Turning further North for a second, we are dismayed as 6 smog alerts have already covered the space which is our Toronto this year; precisely, in part, because of the excessive use of cars. This is a stark reminder that the way we decide to inhabit our space has everything to do with our day to day quality of life. My dear Bogota is ahead in this respect with its car-free days, model public transportation and famous limiting of cars by their license plates.)

And to have a better grasp for what was on the mind of the architects of the time, their utter optimism with regards to technology, Brasilia itself was made to be seen from above as resembling a modern airplane!

Brasilia: City Plan

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This is certainly an extremely cruel irony when one thinks of the disastrous outcome which resulted from the hijacking of the US airplanes on 9/11. It showed the world the possibility of using aircraft as destructive weapons of the very space which embodies some of the very important ideals of the West.

4. Deconstructing our modernist spatiality

So how can this perception of space be transformed? It has actually already been done for many years by postmodernists architects and their critiques of modernist architects such as Le Corbusier; as well as by well-known architects such as Wright (see his Fallingwater house, [link] ), Kahn (see his National Assembly in Dacca Bangladesh, ), Gaudi (see his Sagrada Familia, [link] ) and Niemeyer (see his Niteroi Museum in Rio, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Niemeyer). Harvey once again provides a good summary of some of the broad differences: “Above all, postmodernists depart radically from modernist conceptions of how to regard space. Whereas the modernists see space as something to be shaped for social purposes and therefore always subservient to the construction of a special project, the postmodernists see space as something independent and autonomous, to be shaped according to the aesthetic aims and principles which have nothing necessarily to do with any overarching objective, save, perhaps, the achievement of timelessness and ‘disinterested’ beauty as an objective in itself”. (66) Another way to put is as Wright does: “Beautiful buildings are more than scientific. They are true organisms, spiritually conceived; works of art, using the best technology by inspiration rather than the idiosyncrasies of mere taste or any averaging by the committee mind.” Or elsewhere: “Organic buildings are of the strength and lightness of the spider’s spinning, buildings qualified by light, bred by native character to environment, married to the ground.” Positions which are beautifully captured in the most famous house in the world:

Fallingwater

[link]

But given that my concern is to bridge the space constantly separating artists and philosophers, I will briefly look indirectly at the work of Martin Heidegger who, of all philosophers, stands only second to Nietzsche on his writings on modern art. In his very difficult Being and Time, using his very complex language, he dedicates numerals *22-*24 to the issue of a reconsideration of Cartesian spatiality. There he says some truly odd and difficult things to understand. For example, Heidegger says: “In Dasein there lies an essential tendency towards closeness. All the ways in which we speed up things, as we are more or less compelled to do today, push us towards the conquest of remoteness.“ *23, (106)

What might Heidegger be getting at? Well, primary and negatively, he is all for an intelligent critique of our conception of space as being guided by the Cartesian framework in which space is what can be simply measured; a methodological framework which presents the world as something out THERE to be objectively considered. Instead, for Heidegger in our everyday going about spatially in the world, we are ALREADY moving in space in a primary way which is rarely questioned. This is why Heidegger speaks of our primordially already “being-in-the-world”. Heidegger loves to use examples of everyday utensils to bring out what is obvious, but has been lost from sight.

Those utensils we actually use in our dally lives are never found in independent spaces, but rather are found in a network of spaces which interconnects them. Things occupy a space in this web of significance which is never questioned except when something goes wrong. We all remember our mom “freaking out” when she found the basketball in the living room. “THAT is not its place,” she constantly reminded us. This normal affair partly reveals how the spaces we humans inhabit are set up in ways which provide meaning to our surroundings Or think of what happens when your remote control is nowhere to be found. We rarely pause to think about it, but not finding the remote upsets our moving about in the world in such a way that, for the most neurotic of us, we just can’t go on. We can’t even continue watching the movie, or even pause to turn on the TV ourselves!

The multiplicity of spaces in which we move about daily conforms a network of meaning which goes unquestioned just as we saw with our modern understanding of space itself. We could not even question the maps we use daily; it is for this very same reason that we cannot see anything strange or deforming about them. For while we move in space, we cannot think about the issue; we just move. We simply use the map, and that of course, is what they are there for. Can you imagine trying to get to the CN Tower and suddenly some philosopher starts to talk about the x-y grid! We would never get anywhere!

I fear I have lost some of you in mapping out this last section which I have compressed beyond what is acceptable. So because we are all artists here, let me try another example from literature. The work of Albert Camus allows us to get a better grasp for what Heidegger might mean. If we remember spaces which we inhabited once and no longer do —- the houses of our childhood, the countries we have left, the parks we used to play in, the farm we used to visit, our first apartment—, if we try hard to imagine them, we might see what is so odd about a Cartesian view of spatiality. Remembering them, the network of signification stares us directly. Camus allows us this return in his Return to Tipasa:

“Yet I persisted without very well knowing what I was waiting for, unless perhaps the moment to go back to Tipasa. To be sure, it is sheer madness, almost always punished to return to the sites of one’s youth, to relive at forty what one loved or keenly enjoyed at twenty . But I was forewarned of that madness … I hoped, I think, to recapture there a freedom I could not forget” Camus, Albert. The Myth of Sisyphus and other essays, “Return to Tipasa, pg. 196. Vintage Books, 1983.)

Revisiting the spaces which formed us, requires revisiting ourselves as we once were. This is not easy, for the places might no longer be the networks of significance they once were. The old family house is now simply a broken-down store; the park where we played, condominiums surrounded by pavement; the farm, a guerrilla outpost. But as Camus writes, we are simultaneously reminded of the very freedom which allowed us to leave these places in the first place. For in some cases —–more than just “some cases” I fear is more accurate for the lives of artists and philosophers—– these places might have become a bit like caverns or cages. According to Camus, we remember through this exercise in imaginary revival the courage it took to embark ourselves towards new spatial possibilities. This, some immigrants, specially those who have thought through their courage a bit, know all too well. It is this same courage we need to undertake in order to reconsider our own modern spatiality which came radically into question after the horrifying collapse of the World Trade Center Towers; now, their space can no longer be filled by anything except a memorial of what once was, and is no longer there.

5. Conclusion

What is obvious has the tendency to surprise us the most because it is the most hidden from us. Because it is so “obvious”, we rarely have the courage to confront it. Something similar happens within families. But thanks to the combined work of artists and philosophers we can start to move towards reconciling ourselves, not only with ourselves, but with other cultures by means of a critical dialogue in which both parties argue intelligently about their unquestioned presuppositions. For this task, the help of philosophers, specially artistically-inclined philosophers, is required. For this task, the help of artists/architects, specially philosophically-inclined artists, is required. For it is clear we do not want to become the inhabitants of the deadly space which surrounds the doomed panther in Rilke’s famous poem :

“His tired gaze -from passing endless bars-
has turned into a vacant stare which nothing holds.
To him there seem to be a thousand bars,
and out beyond these bars exists no world.”

For this is the world of those who perpetrated 9/11 and left for thousands of unsuspecting victims only the reality of collapsing space and timeless grief.

Libeskind’s plans for WTC: “Memory Foundations”

[link]

Appendix: secular and/or divine spaces?
Briefly in what follows I put forward, as a result of the previous exercise, some tentative parallels on some plausible differences between a space guided by secular reason, and one founded upon the faith of the divine, particularly, though not exclusively, as seen in Islam:

Secular
1. Notion of immediacy and compression of space through continuous technological encounters via cell-phones, email, messengers.
2. The space of the individual as the paramount foundation of meaningfulness; giving authentic meaning to my spaces is done through my direct participation.
3. The skyscraper as the outstanding achievement of western architecture, symbolizing the economic strength and political unity of the most powerful reaching, as high as materials can, to a secular sky above.
4. A Cartesian model of spatiality conforming to Euclidian geometry which makes of reality something detached and scientifically observable.
5. Earth as the unique and sole spatial abode which requires of our human care.
6. Architecture as the art which dignifies our secular presence in a world which famous architects transform in the search for a certain kind of immortality, that of creation. As Philip Johnson said: . “All architects want to live beyond their deaths.” [link]

Divine
1. Notion of space mediated though the presence of the divine as can be seen in the importance and lay out, for instance, of the Mosque and the parts which conform its architecture, including the Mihrab and the Minbar. http://www.islamicarchitecture.org/architecture/themosque.html [link]
2. The space of the individual takes a secondary role, overshadowed by the divine moral commands which include specific roles for the body; kneeling, fasting, preparing for pilgrimage, among many others.
3. The temple as the architectural summit: the Mosque as the greatest architectural achievement in praise of Allah.
4. Marveling at the possibility of geometry by including geometric patterns repeating themselves infinitely in great architectural works. These attempt to lead us through perception itself to the unity of the infinite in God: “Driven by the religious passion for abstraction and the related doctrine of unity, the Muslim intellectuals recognized in geometry the unifying intermediary between they material and the spiritual world” http://www.islamicarchitecture.org/art/islamic-geometry-and-floral-patterns.html [link]
5. God as the unique reality beyond any spatial finitude. God as spaceless and yet the sole creator of space.
6. The only true architect is God as exemplified by the poetic psalms of impressive King David: Psalm 31: 1-3 ”In thee, O LORD, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness.; Bow down thine ear to me; deliver me speedily: be thou my strong rock, for a house of defense to save me.; For thou art my rock and my fortress; therefore for thy name’s sake lead me, and guide me.”

 

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Santafé de Bogotá,

Diciembre 4 de 2002,

PONTIFICIA UNIVERSIDAD JAVERIANA
DEPARTAMENTO DE FILOSOFÍA

Padre Vicente Durán
Decano
Facultad de Filosofía

REF:  CONTINUACIÓN LABORAL CON LA UNIVERSIDAD JAVERIANA
SEMESTRE I 2003

Estimado Padre Durán:
Por medio de la presente quisiera hacerle saber padre que he tomado la difícil decisión de no continuar el próximo semestre como profesor de planta en la Universidad Javeriana. ¿Qué decirle, padre, acerca de esta decisión? Muy acertadamente —pero tal vez por razones poco comprensivas de situaciones concretas—- se me ha resaltado la importancia de intentar ser más conciso y pulido en mis escritos. Trataré de serlo.
Sin duda interesa recalcar sobretodo el agradecimiento que le tengo a la Universidad Javeriana por darme la oportunidad, así fuese breve, de sentir el placer —-en medio de las dificultades físicas—- de enseñar temáticas que son de absoluta importancia para mí. Esta oportunidad ha transformado mi vida radicalmente. Eso se lo debo a ustedes y no hay cómo agradecerlo. Espero que con mi futura mejoría general pueda regresar a la actividad de la enseñanza. Pero sin duda la actividad de lectura filosófica puede “sin dificultad” continuar.
¿Por qué no continuar en la Javeriana? Las múltiples razones se las he dado a conocer personalmente tanto a Alfonso como a Fernando. A ambos les agradezco —y se los he hecho saber de una u otra manera—- muchas cosas, pero sobretodo el que ante una situación difícil por lo menos hayan hecho lo posible para que no se hiciera más difícil aún (como podría haber ocurrido). No quisiera imaginar cómo hubiese sido todo si no me hubiese ido más  o menos bien en las encuestas, y en las labores que cumplí. Pero en tanto que dichas razones las articulé claramente, incluso muchos meses atrás, no interesa pues  volver a recalcarlas, a re-sentirlas.
Tal vez sólo me permitiría recordar dos cosas. La una tiene que ver con palabras del propio rector de la Universidad, Padre Gerardo Remolina. En un artículo titulado ”Reflexiones sobre la formación integral“, indica él uno de los aspectos más importantes para ser profesor. Allí escribe:

“Es aquí donde se encuentra la semilla de la vocación del docente que se convierte en maestro; es decir, en alguien que sabe comunicar sus conocimientos con y por amor, con el corazón. Maestro es quien sabe llegar al corazón de su discípulo y contribuye así a  convertir en universal su saber.”

Entiendo sobretodo estas palabras en el sentido del eros socrático y/o en el sentido de ágape de Taylor; no en un sentido romántico simplista e ingenuo. La razón más importante para dejar la Javeriana, no es mi grave enfermedad per se  (pues sería bastante extraño que entre mejor me encontrara físicamente, pudiese “hacer” menos); radica, por el contrario, en que no estoy seguro de que estas palabras se tomen a veces con la seriedad que requieren por parte de algunos docentes. Pero entonces preguntaría usted, ¿hombre, Andrés, por qué no ayudar a cambiar esta situación? Lo hice como profesor de inglés, tal vez lo hice en cierta medida este año. Pero sin duda esta pregunta la haría una persona bastante sana. La respuesta es que, aunque pude volver a caminar luego de no poder hacerlo por mucho tiempo (¿alguien se imagina lo que es esto para un deportista consumado?¿Resulta incluso molesta la pregunta?), aunque pude bloquear muy intensos dolores continuos durante meses que permeaban mi corporeidad noche tras noche, aunque pude eliminar casi todas las grandes cantidades de drogas que tuve que tomar,  aunque tuve que vivir con las consecuencias de decisiones de alta complejidad y cuestionable racionalidad, aunque pude sobrevivir el suicidio de mi muy querido doctor Fernando, aunque pude comenzar el doctorado y obtener muy buenos resultados, aunque pude ganar la convocatoria y dar hasta la última gota de esfuerzo y aprender de la oportunidad al mismo tiempo, aunque pude casarme y hacerlo de manera hermosa; aunque todo esto es verdad, pues la verdad es que fuerzas pocas tengo. Y  esa  si que no era la idea.
En segundo lugar me permitiría recordar algunas palabras de Aristóteles. Sin duda hasta ahora comienzo mi esfuerzo por comprender más y más su ética; en gran medida gracias a las preguntas generadas por el profesor Thomas Pangle. Pero, aún así, me interesa recuperarlas. Hacia el final de la Ética Nicomáquea, en el libro X, se indica:

“además, la educación particular es superior a la pública, como en el caso del tratamiento médico: en general, al que tiene fiebre le conviene el reposo y la dieta, pero quizá alguien no le convenga, y el maestro de boxeo, sin duda, no propone el mismo modo de lucha a todos sus discípulos. Parece pues, que una mayor exactitud en el detalle se alcanza si cada persona es atenida privadamente, pues de esta manera cada uno encuentra mejor lo que le conviene” (Ética  Nicomáquea,  Libro X, 1180b7-14)”

Sin duda el caso de una persona que está en medio de una recuperación para nada asegurada, de una enfermedad crónica grave, implica cierto tipo de “educación particular” que va más allá de cuestiones estratégicas (ascensores, etc.). (Y sin embargo, pocos saben —–tal vez sólo mi esposa—– cuáles fueron las implicaciones de no haber dictado mi primera clase este semestre en un salón por confusiones estratégicas.) Desafortunadamente en el momento en que se requería de mayor comprensión por parte de algunos colegas, primó más el interés de justificar la decisión tomada en términos de recibir otro profesor de planta en el Departamento. No hubo falta de exposición verbal de la compleja situación vital por la que yo vivía (vivo), y sí en cambio cierta negligencia en términos de sabiduría práctica y paciencia. Por ejemplo, si algún elemento que puede disparar la artritis, es un cierto tipo de tensiones añadidas, llamémoslas “extracurriculares”,  a las que todos tenemos que vivir en el día a día. Tal vez ustedes se pueden dar el lujo de investigar si dichos elementos son subjetivos u objetivos; un enfermo no. Uno no se puede dar muchos lujos. Sin duda tal vez las palabras de Aristóteles representen la  encrucijada de la Universidad moderna; pero no puede jamás ser la encrucijada de la filosofía, y menos aún,  a nivel de doctorados.

Dado el preocupante futuro que percibo tendría en Colombia ––sobretodo en términos de seguridad médica—- he decidido viajar a Canadá que es como mi segunda patria. Espero poder continuar mi doctorado, pero ya estoy absolutamente consciente que para poder hacerlo primero debo  o recuperarme en punto cercano al 90-100% (o como Mockus pide, al 110%); o encontrar un espacio en el que pueda realizar ciertas actividades, siendo optimistas, al 70%. Pero si no pude en la Javeriana —-que hasta cierto punto en realidad trató de proveerme un espacio, y repito, por eso estoy inmensamente agradecido— pues no hay razón para ser demasiado optimistas en  ese  aspecto. Pero dejar de leer e investigar, nunca.

¡Creo haberme extendido una vez más en demasía! ¡Tal vez aprenda a ser más concreto con el correr de los años; confiando en que sean muchos más!

Padre, le deseo salud, la mejor de las suertes y felicidad; y, en verdad, le pido que en sus rezos me tenga presente. Recordaré su pregunta acerca de la relación entre el lenguaje y la verdad, e intentaré la búsqueda de posibles respuestas. Además, le entrego a Alfonso y a Fernando una copia de esta carta de despedida.

____________________________
Profesor Andrés Melo Cousineau

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PhD Seminar

Introducción

El ensayo de Taylor titulado “The Validity of Transcendental Arguments” (TVTA) sorprende. ¿En qué sentido? En la medida en que el ensayo que le precede, llamado “Overcoming Epistemology”, parece crear una tensión entre los dos. Esto es así ya que pareciera que una superación de la epistemología involucraría una crítica radical a los argumentos transcendentales: ¿no son estos, por excelencia, argumentos de tipo epistemológico? Es decir, ¿no plantean ellos la cuestión epistemológica de cómo, dado un sujeto de la experiencia, logra éste mismo sujeto vincularse —-de alguna manera “conectarse”—- con los objetos que están allá “afuera” para ser conocidos? Sobretodo la aparente tensión se revela en la medida en que Taylor pareciera no ser un aguerrido defensor de Kant sobre quien señala al final de su ensayo (“TVTA”): “fácilmente podemos sentir que el intento de Kant de formular las condiciones límite para la experiencia fue infectado por ciertas doctrinas filosóficas de su tiempo, y que la naturaleza de esta coherencia debiera ser caracterizada de manera diferente.” (mi énfasis; p. 33).[i] En parte, sin duda ese otro intento de caracterización es el tayloriano. Sigue él ciertas concepciones criticas del modelo epistemológico como son las de Dasein en Heidegger —Dasein es siempre un “estar–en-el-mundo” y no un sujeto desvinculado de dicho mundo— o la consideración de sujeto como être-au-monde de Merleau Ponty. Y el que resulte extraño ver a Taylor defendiendo cierta reinterpretación de estos argumentos lo recupera bien Keith Hewitt en “Taylor on phenomenological method: A Hegelian refutation” para quien hay demasiadas semejanzas entre Kant y Taylor. Según Hewitt, en últimas, para ambos “la subjetividad o la razón no se manifiesta en el mundo real, y el mundo, de manera acorde, es en gran medida algo que es ‘extraño’ u ‘otro’.”[ii]

Pero precisamente el interés de Taylor es, creo yo, reinterpretar los AT para superar su origen meramente epistemológico. Para desarrollar el argumento me interesa mirar tres elementos interrelacionados: 1) mirar brevemente el movimiento de los argumentos trascendentales y cómo son ellos utilizados en Kant, 2) mirar las innovaciones de Taylor que encarnan dichos AT en la praxis corpórea situada mundanamente, y finalmente 3) mirar una pregunta pictórica.

1. Qué es un AT y cómo se dan en Kant su originador

Roderick Chisholm en su “¿Qué es un argumento trascendental?”[iii] nos entrega el movimiento característico de los AT que son el resultado de un cierto tipo de procedimiento trascendental (PT). Primero se advierten ciertos rasgos generales de un objeto de estudio. Posteriormente, tras la reflexión, se llega a principios relativos a las condiciones necesarias de la existencia de dicho objeto. Finamente aplicando estos principios se deducen ciertas consecuencias con lo que culmina el argumento trascendental: “uno concluye que con ello se ha mostrado que las proposiciones así deducidas están justificadas”(pg 86). El análisis trascendental kantiano inaugura este tipo de argumentación.

La revolucionaria investigación kantiana en la primera Crítica revela que existen, aparte de nuestra experiencia a través de los sentidos, formas a priori como lo son las de la causalidad y la unidad. Estas formas no se nos dan ellas mismas dentro de la experiencia, pero enigmáticamente también es cierto que es sólo a partir de su presencia que el experienciar es del todo posible. La expedición crítica en busca de los fundamentos racionales de dichas categorías, las estructuras universales de la razón que permiten la organización del mundo fenoménico, es la “Filosofía Trascendental”. Se aleja ésta tanto del empirismo simplista como del dogmatismo realista al comprenderse como “todo concomimiento que se ocupa no tanto de los objetos, cuanto de nuestro modo de conocerlos” (CRPu, 58; mi énfasis). Las preguntas fundamentales de dicha filosofía trascendental incluyen:¿Cómo es posible la experiencia de objetos reales para nosotros modernos herederos de la ciencia? ¿Con qué derecho podemos argumentar racionalmente que nuestro conocimiento realmente hace referencia a objetos “allá afuera”? ¿Cómo puedo constatar racionalmente que mi conocimiento “sale de sí” y hace posible la objetivación? (CRPu 139).

Por ejemplo, al determinar la categoría de la unidad —que la experiencia por sí sola no puede garantizar ya que el simple hecho de que la luz solar cambia constantemente cambia por ende la percepción de cualquier objeto real—– reconozco que ya en mí como ser humano racional hay una unidad que no es propiamente la misma de la categoría en cuestión. Esta unidad original, que logra integrar los troncos de la sensibilidad y del entendimiento, es precisamente aquella que permite la utilización de la categoría particular de la “unidad” (y claro, de toda otra categoría subsiguiente). ¿Qué unidad es ésta tan peculiar? Para Kant esta unidad es la unidad fundamental de la conciencia pura trascendental, es la unidad de la apercepción, de la autoconciencia. Aquello que Descartes no pudo explicitar referente al cogito, logra en Kant una más profunda demostración. La unidad de la subjetividad trascendental hace posible la experiencia misma: “el entendimiento puro constituye pues, en las categorías, la ley de unidad sintética de todos los fenómenos, y es lo que hace así primordialmente posible la experiencia” (CRPu 150; mi énfasis). Sin ella seríamos incapaces de organizar el mundo de una manera tal que lo podamos conocer, y sobretodo conocer científicamente. La autoconciencia para Kant hace posible el mundo humano y el entendimiento en particular es por lo tanto “él mismo la legislación de la naturaleza ….. sin él no habría naturaleza alguna, esto es, unidad sintética y regulada de lo diverso de los fenómenos” (CRPu 149; mi énfasis).

O como lo pone Taylor, quien comienza su ensayo aludiendo precisamente a Kant: se parte del insight[iv] de que debemos poder distinguir en la experiencia “un orden objetivo de las cosas de un orden meramente subjetivo.” (pg 20). Solo así tenemos experiencia de algo; una experiencia no objetual no es humana. Pero precisamente esa unidad la entrega, en Kant, el yo trascendental ya mencionado: “Debo poder reconocer de todas mis experiencias que son mías; en otras palabras, el yo pienso debe poder acompañar todas mis representaciones”.[v] El PT, señala Taylor, es de tipo regresivo; se parte de una faceta innegable de la experiencia y por medio de la argumentación regresiva se articulan las condiciones necesarias de dicha experiencia. El punto final de la argumentación proveería una tesis concluyente más sólida, a saber, un llegar a aceptar en la articulación argumentativa que hay una necesidad incuestionable de que nuestras experiencias tengan cierta unidad que es característica de la experiencia de nosotros como sujetos.

2. AT reapropiados por Taylor.

Pero si Taylor no está aquí interesado en cuestionar la validez del argumento kantiano sino sólo señalar su tipo (p. 21), entonces, ¿qué, más concretamente, pretende? Sin duda recuperar el tipo de argumentación cuya forma ha sido reapropiado por la filosofía, por ejemplo, de Merleau Ponty. Reemitiéndonos a Ponty queda inmediatamente claro que el punto de partida no es el kantiano, es decir, el de un sujeto contrapuesto a su objeto que le es externo (recordemos la muy problemática dicotomía kantiana: “el cielo estrellado sobre mí y la ley moral en mí”). Por el contrario el punto de partida es la percepción de un agente corpóreo; y sin embargo, según Taylor el proceder es semejante. Se parte una vez más de “ciertas características incuestionables de la experiencia”, a saber, la percepción del ser humano como agente encarnado (embodied). De allí se llega a comprender que un sentido de nosotros como agentes corpóreos es condición necesaria para que nuestra experiencia tenga las características que en efecto tiene. Regresivamente se concluye que nuestra experiencia es —–mejor dicho, sólo puede ser—– la de agentes encarnados/corpóreos (embodied subjects).

Taylor se cuida de ser malinterpretado. El que el sujeto esté vinculado al mundo como ser corpóreo en tanto ser perceptivo, NO quiere decir que causalmente sea dependiente de ciertas propiedades corpóreas. Claro, sin luz el ojo no ve; pero la vinculación tayloriana va más allá de esta afirmación causal. Por el contrario explica Taylor:

“Por el contrario la afirmación es que nuestra manera de ser como sujetos es en aspectos esenciales la de agentes encarnados. Es una afirmación acerca de la naturaleza de nuestra experiencia y pensamiento, antes que de las condiciones empíricas necesarias para estas funciones. El decir que somos esencialmente seres encarnados es decir que es esencial para nuestra experiencia y pensamiento que sean las de seres encarnados”. (pg 22)

¿Cuál es la experiencia más fundamental de dicha encarnación? Para Ponty, como hemos dicho, la percepción. Todo humano percibe; esto incluso así algunos de sus sentidos se haya perdido, o surjan casos extraños como los de la sinestesia en los cuales los sentidos se entrecruzan generando mundos un poco extraños para nosotros con sentidos “comunes y corrientes”. Pero, ¿por qué es está función humana la más básica? Primero, señala Taylor, porque siempre está ahí, mientras “yo” esté allí; bajo otra tradición, incluso el fin de la “apatheia” estoica parte precisamente del pathos humano. Y segundo porque es el fundamento de toda otra manera de “tener” un mundo: “nuestra apertura primaria al mundo, el horizonte ineludible de toda otra, es a través de la percepción”. (pg 23). Nacemos percibiendo y tan lo hacemos que pronto nuestro mundo se reduce, según un freudiano, a un seno. Es decir, la percepción es ESENCIALMENTE la de un sujeto corpóreo/encarnado/vinculado con el mundo. De nuevo, “esencialmente” quiere decir no que la percepción depende de ciertos estados causales de nuestros cuerpos —por ejemplo es un hecho causal que en tanto ser humano no escucho ciertos ruidos “subsónicos” realizados por los elefantes—- sino que nuestra experiencia perceptual es tal que sólo podría ser la de una agencia corpórea arraigada en un mundo.

Por ejemplo –y a diferencia de las categorías epistemológicas kantianas— el campo de percepción está constituido por un “arriba-abajo”. La pareja “arriba-abajo” permite configurar el mapa perceptivo coherentemente. De lo contrario, la experiencia sería una en que “no sabemos dónde están o qué son las cosas; perdemos el hilo del mundo, y nuestro campo perceptual no es ya el acceso al mundo, sino los confusos escombros (debris) en que nuestra manera normal de comprender las cosas se derrumba.” No por nada los rescatistas deben practicar una y otra vez la desorientación que sigue a la caída de un helicóptero en el agua; el mundo se hace anormal y debo salvarme.

Pero el campo “arriba-abajo”, ¿se constituye él a partir de la experiencia? Sin duda se activa con ella; pero es ella la que en cierto sentido permite experiencia cualquiera. Por ello señala Taylor que el “arriba-abajo” no sólo está relacionado con mi percepción corporal. El “arriba-abajo” no depende de una referencia a lo más arriba que tengo, a saber, mi cabeza. El arriba cuando estoy acostado, doblado e incluso boca abajo –tratando de impresionar a mi novia— no es referido a mi cabeza. Pero entonces pensaríamos que su configuración se da primariamente a través de los objetos del mundo. ¿Qué es arriba? Miré para el cielo; o más dramáticamente el Hades abajo, el Cielo con mayúsculas arriba.

Por el contrario para Taylor: “mi campo tiene un arriba y un abajo porque es el campo de un agente de este tipo. Está estructurado como un campo de acción potencial.” (mi énfasis, 23) Pero Taylor duda un poco y se pregunta, ¿no será demasiado apresurado descartar la posibilidad de que la orientación arriba-abajo se desprenda de indicaciones en el mundo? Como pregunta él: “¿cómo sé lo que es arriba excepto si miro la tierra?” O en términos bogotanos, todos sabemos que al decirle a un taxista que suba por la próxima calle nuestro referente –casi inconsciente—son los cerros orientales. Sin embargo para Taylor hay una confusión aquí. Claro, tenemos que percibir el mundo para saber dónde está el arriba, y podemos ser engañados por distorsiones perceptuales como los espejos en circos o en automóviles. Sin duda necesitamos de indicativos (cues) adecuados. Pero lo que comprendemos por estos cues es precisamente la direccionalidad arriba-abajo. Y esta bidireccionalidad humana —-dentro de un complejo de preposiciones direccionales que tanto nos enseñaron en Plaza Sésamo—- lo que señala es que: “lo que son arriba y abajo, mejor, son las direcciones orientadoras de nuestra acción y de nuestra postura.” Incluso un astronauta en el espacio, que como en Odisea 2001 es desprendido de su nave por un robot “enloquecido”, “sabe” que, siendo humano el orientarse a partir de un “arriba-abajo”, pues resulta aterrador no poder hacerlo.

Y aquí comienza la innovación de Taylor. Los AT para él abren no una postura epistemológica propiamente, sino una postura practico-vivencial: “percibimos el mundo … a través de nuestras capacidades para actuar sobre él.” Percibir es el más rudimentario actuar humano; no en vano la aparición de la perspectiva es ella misma un producto histórico que involucra otro tipo de actuar sobre la naturaleza (ver SotS Cap 12 en lo referente al arte renacentista). Lo que abre la direccionalidad arriba-abajo es mi actuar, me permite reconocer el escenario de mi quehacer. Taylor privilegia cierto tipo de pragmatismo sobre un mero conocimiento ensimismado: “somos esencialmente seres vivientes, y como tales actuamos sobre el mundo … Estamos por lo tanto ineludiblemente abiertos al mundo” (mi énfasis: 25). Pero además este tipo de orientación espacial se asemeja para Taylor —como señalábamos en el anterior ensayo—-a la orientación del ámbito de la ética y del bien: “La orientación en el espacio resulta ser similar a la orientación en el espacio físico. Sabemos dónde estamos gracias a una mezcla de puntos topográficos (“landmarks”) ante nosotros y de un sentido de cómo hemos viajado para llegar a ellos.”[vi]

En este sentido la direccionalidad arriba-abajo no es un dato contingente que se descubre empíricamente, sino que es constitutivo de nuestra experiencia como sujetos corpóreos. Análogamente en el ajedrez el movimiento de la reina es constitutivo del juego porque o sino no existiría el juego de ajedrez. De manera similar lo es la capacidad orientadora humana: “no podríamos tener un sujeto con un campo articulado como el nuestro que de manera contingente no fuese un agente corpóreo. Su ser un agente corpóreo ayuda a constituir su campo.” (p. 25)

2b. ¿Qué establece el argumento trascendental?

Le importa señalar a Taylor que dichos argumentos no establecen una verdad ontológica. Su prueba no es en este sentido una que convenza a un escéptico radical. Se excede el propósito de los AT si se toman como una prueba ontológica que concierne la naturaleza definitiva y transhistórica del ser humano. Por el contrario “lo que se demuestra es que nuestro pensamiento , nuestra experiencia, y en general nuestra función como sujetos debe ser descrita como esencialmente el pensamiento o experiencia de agentes corpóreos” (26) Dicen algo de nuestra vida como sujetos corpóreos; o en otras palabras no podemos ejercer subjetividad y ser en el mundo sin un sentido de nosotros como sujetos que son cuerpo. (¿No podríamos decir que si Geist se encarna lo hace porque nosotros, sus vehículos somos corporeidad?) En particular en su constante confrontación abierta pero decidida con el reduccionismo neurofisiológico enfatiza que los AT no cierran la pregunta de si un tal sistema sea posible en efecto. Los AT como los ve Taylor no cierran el campo del saber, permiten saber qué campos —-en plural— son posibles para los humanos.

Pero si no deciden qué en últimas somos, entonces ¿qué deciden? Poco o mucho. Apuntan a señalar que somos seres encarnados en prácticas. Si bien no prueban en su regresión condiciones a priori incuestionables para Taylor sus conclusiones son muy significativas. El que demuestren que somos seres corpóreos “si muestra la forma que cualquier relato debe tener que involucre nuestras autocomprensiones.” (p. 27) En términos prácticos las implicaciones para las ciencias sociales son totales. Las aproximaciones a la comprensión de lo humano que pretendan comprender a complejidad de lo que somos en términos solamente reductivos (por ejemplo el doctor Llinás), o dualistas (por ejemplo la separación kantiana entre sujeto y objeto), no ven la complejidad de nuestra constitución humana. En ese sentido para Taylor incluso: “los resultados puedan no ser válidos pero el problema es claramente significativo.“ (p. 27)[vii] Un ejemplo importante lo hallamos en el otro ensayo para esta sesión. En “Interpretation and the Sciences of Man” al considerar el ámbito de lo político ——¿no es éste el ámbito de la praxis por excelencia?; y cabe recordar que Taylor es profesor de Ciencias Políticas— la posibilidad de predicción a partir de una análisis objetivo de la realidad se hace cuestionable. Toda explicación política por el contrario debe comprender que su “objeto”, que son los sujetos humanos corpóreos “enredados” en significaciones intersubjetivas (p. 39), tiene al menos tres propiedades: 1) los sentidos son para un sujeto en un campo(s); 2) estos son sentidos parcialmente constituidas por autodefiniciones interpretativas, y 3) pueden ellas ser re-expresadas o hechas explícitas por una ciencia política (claro, no la del modelo epistemológico). (p. 52)

2c. ¿Cómo establecen lo que establecen los AT?

Para Taylor hay tres características de los AT que requieren de explicación. En primer lugar presentan afirmaciones de indispensabilidad, es decir, se muestra cómo la condición de afirmación en la conclusión es indispensable para que la característica identificada al inicio sea posible como lo es. En Kant las categorías deducidas son indispensables para la coherencia de una experiencia que pretende conocer el mundo objetivo. En Taylor el sentido del sujeto como agente corpóreo con una orientación arriba-abajo es indispensable para comprender qué es ser un agente de percepción corporal. O en otras palabras, es indispensable que la experiencia sea como lo revela el AT para que la experiencia pueda del todo ser, en efecto, como es.

En segundo lugar las afirmaciones de indispensabilidad son de carácter a priori. Ninguna experiencia empírica me da la categoría de la unidad; ninguna experiencia perceptiva me da el campo de orientación de un arriba-abajo. Para Taylor por ende pretenden los AT no ser sencillamente probables sino apodícticos; incluso indica él que se toman como puntos de partida auto-evidentes. En Kant “simplemente vemos que la experiencia debe ser de algo para que sea experiencia, o que el yo pienso debe acompañar todas mis representaciones” (p. 28). En Ponty no es posible un ser humano que no sea un agente viviente que es en el mundo como ser encarnado. Los AT por lo tanto pueden considerarse como afirmaciones de indispensabilidad de carácter apodíctico. En tercer lugar estas afirmaciones son de la experiencia; la vivencia experiencial es la que les provee su anclaje más profundo. La categoría de la causalidad me permite organizar el mundo; el campo de arriba-abajo me permite orientar mi acción. Por ello los AT son cadenas de afirmaciones de indispensabilidad apodíctica que conciernen a la experiencia; en esa medida su anclaje es incuestionable. Exagerando; ningún escéptico saltaría desde un piso 23 para “probar” su escepticismo.

Pero dado este anclaje tan sobreseguro Taylor se pregunta, si son auto evidentes ¿por qué demostrarlos? Siguiendo su defensa del valor de la articulación en los seres humanos, Taylor recalca que los AT precisamente proveen un insight sobre nuestra propia actividad. Este insight nos señala que nuestra actividad humana tiene un punto, que la actividad humana está constituida de ciertas maneras y no de otras. Vuelve Taylor al ejemplo el ajedrez; jugar ajedrez es reconocer las reglas del juego; la reina no se puede mover en “L”. ¿Por qué? Porque no. En inglés al verbo “advise”, en uno de sus usos le sigue un “objeto” y un “infinitivo”: “I advise you to go to a psychiatrist”. ¿Por qué? Porque sí. Y es así independientemente de que los alumnos quieran, como en español, decir algo como “I advise that you go” (spanglish para “Yo le aconsejo que usted vaya”).[viii] Estas reglas son constitutivas; su uso correcto demuestra la comprensión del juego de mesa o del juego lingüístico. Aludiendo al ajedrez cabe recordar el pasaje en que el hermano de Meimei —-niña genio del ajedrez—- responde a las preguntas de su inquieta y aún muy niña hermana:

–“¿Por qué?” Pregunté mientras movía el peón. ¿Por qué no pueden moverse más pasos?”

–“Porque son peones,” me dijo.

–“¿Pero por qué se cruzan para capturar otro hombre? ¿Por qué no hay mujeres y niños? (nota: muy interesante pregunta)

–“Por qué es el cielo azul?¿Por qué tienes que hacer preguntas tan estúpidas? Preguntó Vincent. Este es un juego. Estas son las reglas. Yo no las hice. Mira. Aquí. En el libro”[ix]

Meimei es bastante filosófica, es decir cansona con su preguntar.

Ahora bien, dejando de lado el problema de qué quiere decir que un computador azul “juegue” ajedrez y le “gane” a Karpov (¿con quién fue a festejar el computador?), lo cierto es que Taylor señala que es extraño pensar en dudar del jugar ajedrez jugando. Claro, un escéptico radical puede preguntar, ¿qué le asegura que de verdad está jugando y no es un sueño? Para Taylor los AT no están dirigidos a este tipo de escépticos. Como lo pone Taylor: “es difícil ver cómo uno podría darle sentido a la duda de que sabemos jugar ajedrez y estamos jugándolo ahora.” (p. 29) La conciencia de las reglas de ajedrez es en un sentido importante indudable. Tan indudable es que desde otro campo del saber, la literatura –que abre la corporeidad tal vez mejor que toda filosofía—- encontramos el siguiente cuento titulado La sombra de las jugadas: “En uno de los cuentos que integran la serie de los Mabinogion, dos reyes enemigos juegan al ajedrez, mientras en un valle cercano sus ejércitos luchan y se destrozan. Llegan mensajeros con noticias de la batalla; los reyes no parecen oírlos e, inclinados sobre el tablero de plata, mueven las piezas de oro. Gradualmente se aclara que las vicisitudes del combate siguen las vicisitudes del juego. Hacia el atardecer, uno de los reyes derriba el tablero, porque le han dado jaque mate y poco después un jinete ensangrentado le anuncia: Tu ejército huye, has perdido el reino.”[x] La práctica que es el ajedrez parece ir mucho más allá que sus reglas constitutivas; aun cuando sin ellas no podría ser.

Pero dejando esto de lado, hay una similitud entre la regla de la reina como constitutiva y la percepción como siendo esencialmente la de una agente corpóreo; ambas son, nos dice Taylor, articulaciones de nuestro insight respecto al punto de nuestra actividad. En términos de orientación espacial da sentido a la actividad de estar conciente (aware) del mundo, de comprender (grasp) la realidad en que somos y actuamos. Es esta primacía de la normalidad la que permite que reconozcamos rupturas como rupturas: “mi conciencia (awareness) se fragmenta en una confusión tal que no constituye una conciencia en un sentido apropiado.“ (p. 30)

Pero son diferentes estos dos casos ya que la regla de la reina ya está formulada (aunque es raro aprender ajedrez con alguien leyendo la regla; más bien nos muestran). En cambio en el caso de la percepción no hay una especie de manual de articulación, así los genetistas estén intentando crear un manual de lo que somos. Articular lo que puede ser la percepción nunca será el percibir; pero articular la regla de la reina es precisamente lo que es ser reina en ajedrez. Los AT no permiten señalar cuáles son las condiciones de falla dada una formulación definitiva aceptada; como sí lo podemos hacer con el manual de ajedrez. Movió la reina en “L”; error. Pero los AT referidos a la percepción al menos permiten reconocer las condiciones de una percepción característica del agente corpóreo. Como lo pone Taylor: “Es decir, si no pudiese reconocer que cuando todo se fragmentara en confusión, el awareness había fallado, entonces no podrías considerarme como aware en primer lugar. No somos aware del todo a menos de que reconozcamos esta diferencia.” (p. 30-31) Una experiencia sin awareness alguno no es experiencia humana. Para que haya rupturas debe haber previo un saber de qué involucra estar aware.[xi] Incluso para Taylor resulta extraño preguntar “¿am I aware?” No puedo dudar de se si estoy aware y en este sentido los AT “articulan afirmaciones de indispensabilidad referidas a la experiencia como tal”.

Los AT son articulaciones argumentativas que el debate filosófico explicita para mejor comprender las condiciones límite y exitosas de nuestra actividad humana. (pg 31) Su movimiento, como Taylor ya ha señalado en SIA, comienza con una caracterización embrionaria que es tan sólo esbozada (sketchy). Partiendo de esta experiencia vivida se señalan los elementos para que dicha experiencia tenga cierta coherencia. Finalmente se concluye que la coherencia se debe a la “aplicación” de ciertas categorías, como en Kant, o a modos de organización espacial de la percepción, como en Taylor. El primer punto es fácil de comprender –todos percibimos; esto es autoevidente. Para Taylor la conclusión logra en su articulación argumentativa “llenar” de contenido esta primera intuición. (“the former simply spells out what the latter adumbrated” (pg 32))

Y sin embargo señala Taylor que los AT aún siendo APODÍCTICOS, están ellos abiertos a nuevas articulaciones. En parte porque no podemos saber, a diferencia de la regla de la reina, si hemos formulado las cosas adecuadamente. Sin duda Taylor cree, como lo señalamos al inicio, que la postura kantiana esta “infectada”. Keith cree que la de Taylor frente a Hegel está a su vez “infectada”. La noción de corporeidad de Foucault vería tanto a Taylor como a Keith como un poco “infectados.” Desde una perspectiva ecologista tal vez el punto de partida no pueda ser el de la corporeidad antropocéntrica. Pero, según Taylor, además “vemos” a través de la percepción corpórea en vez de a ella. Es un poco pedirle a un miope que se quite las gafas las ponga lejos y nos las describa. Nos diría: “préstamelos para ver bien”. O en otras palabras, los AT articulan el punto de una actividad que no podemos sino tener, pero en tanto articulaciones están abiertos a debate interminable. Como concluye Taylor “un TA válido es indudable; pero es difícil saber cuándo se tiene uno, al menos uno con una conclusión interesante. Pero esto parece ser cierto de la mayoría de los argumentos en filosofía.” (33)

3) Una pregunta pictórica[xii]

¿Qué percibimos en la siguiente imagen metamórfica de Escher?



[i] Claro, Taylor provee una lectura de “aristotélica” de Kant en su artículo “Kant’s theory of freedom”.

[ii] En “Taylor on phenomenological method: A Hegelian refutation” , sacado de la interesante revista electrónica Animus. Párrafo *42 (www.animus.com)

[iii] Chisholm, Roderick, Argumentos Transcendentales, (comp. Cabrera, Isabel), UNAM , México, 1999.

[iv] En su artículo “Interpretation and the Sciences of Man” Taylor provee una muy buena discusión de lo que es para él insight . (pg 53-54). No en vano termina dicho artículo con una alusión a la Ética Nicomáquea de Aristóteles.

[v] Pero la crítica por su propia naturaleza no acaba, su proyecto es fundamentalmente un proyecto sin fin. Por ello cabe referirse brevemente a las criticas presentes en la obras de Husserl y Heidegger. Para Husserl, en particular en algunos apartados de su obra madura Crisis de las Ciencias Europeas y la Fenomenología Trascendental, encontramos múltiples cuestionamientos acerca de las presuposiciones kantianas. Entre ellos cabe resaltar la incapacidad de Kant para radicalizar su propia perspectiva y así cuestionar los fundamentos de su pensamiento. La fenomenología husserliana —que conoce ya de los descarrilamientos de la tecnología y de la política liberal en el siglo XX— logra comprender que antes que la subjetividad trascendental científica encontramos la subjetividad precientífica cotidiana. Se revelan así las bases de la razón instrumental y su intento por monopolizar todo el campo de la razón y del ser. Para Husserl “lo realmente primero es la intuición meramente subjetiva-relativa de la vida mundana precientífica.” (128 CCEFT). La aparente universalidad del proyecto kantiano comienza a revelarse como un proyecto culturalmente remitido a la historia de Occidente. Pero a su vez ésta radicalización de la cuestión trascendental en Kant, encuentra a su vez una revolucionaria crítica en la importante obra de Heidegger. En primer lugar, en su Kant y el problema de la Metafísica argumenta él, planteando ideas de Ser y Tiempo, que la CRPu es el primer intento serio sobre la posibilidad interna de la ontología y no simplemente un investigar epistemológico. Pero es en Ser y Tiempo en donde la cuestión trascendental da paso a la reformulación del ser humano en cuanto Dasein, ser cuya característica ontológica principal es la de ser-en-el-mundo. El proyecto trascendental inmerso dentro de la dicotomía epistemológica sujeto-objeto da paso a una novedosa postura ontológica sobre la pregunta del ser que revela las peligrosas presuposiciones de la matematización de la naturaleza.

[vi] Taylor, SotS pg 48.

[viii] Un ejemplo similar se da al final del artículo de Taylor sobre Foucault.

[ix] Tan, Amy, “Rules of the Game” pg 7; en World Writers today. ScottForesman, Glenview, 1995

[x] Edwin Morgan en Antología de la literatura fantástica (comp. Borges, Jorge Luis, Bioy Casares, Adolfo, ; Sudamericana, Buenos Aires, 1994.) Otro ejemplo de la relación entre el ajedrez y la práctica vital es:

LIFE AND CHESS (Thomas Huxley)

“The chess board is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us. We know that his play is always fair, just, and patient. But also we know, to our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance.”

Otro ejemplo sería el artículo de Poe “Maelzel’s Chess-player”.

[xi] Por eso es importante recuperar en el ámbito ético la noción de crisis de identidad que aparece en SotS. Punto al cual se aludió en el anterior ensayo.

[xii] Otras preguntas podrían ser:

1. ¿Cómo se relacionan los AT con la identidad, el bien y las evaluaciones fuertes? ¿Abren los AT la ética? ¿Cómo se relacionan con el ámbito político?

2. ¿Como comprender la critica de Rorty de que Taylor funciona muy kantianamente dentro de la tradición de un “en sí” en la realidad? Ver su ensayo “Taylor on truth”

3. ¿Cómo se entenderían los AT desde una perspectiva foucaultiana-nietzscheana?

4. ¿Qué es lo crucial del ajedrez? El que sea juego constituido por ciertas reglas? O principalmente que se comprende como una practica en que la reina es mucho más que una simple reina. Por ejemplo en el “Hombre que calculaba” se habla del poder de la reina:

—–“¿Y por qué la reina es más fuerte y poderosa que el mismo rey?:

—- Es más poderosa … porque la reina representa , en el juego, el patriotismo del pueblo. El poder mayor con que cuenta el rey reside, precisamente , en la exaltación cívica de sus súbditos” Capítulo XVI pg 104-105. Algo que le vendría bien , exagerando, al cívico humanismo de Taylor.

5. ¿Qué puede querer decir un AT para los indígenas paeces en donde precisamente la idea de cómo se relaciona mi cuerpo con el mundo parece carecer de todo sentido e incluso arrancar de un error, para usar palabras nuestras epistémicas? Es decir, si es de nuestra tradición occidental la división “interno” /”externo” , y si esta división conlleva como lo señala Taylor una instrumentalización de la naturaleza, ¿cómo entonces generar las condiciones de diálogo con otras culturas en las que dicha separación no sólo no ha ocurrido, sino que antes bien dicha separación ha destruido el ámbito propio en donde otros tipos de agencia se hace posibles? Por ejemplo en “Cuerpo Cosmos en los Rituales Paez” (Hugo Portela, pg 41) se revela la relación existente en esta cultura entre lenguaje, noción de agencia y cosmos. Como señala Portela “el cuerpo humano para los Paez es un territorio compuesto por agua. Piedra, cumbres cerros, huecadas, raíces., tallos cogollos, hijas etc,… existe una relación topológica cuerpo humano geografía”. Tan es así que los lexemas entrelazan lo corporal con lo natural. Lenguaje, ecosistema y cuerpo son indiferenciables. Palabra, orden cósmico y agente activo permanecen íntimamente ligados. Tan es así que para un paez decir “Yo soy árbol” es como decir “yo soy indio” (pg. 46). ¿Podríamos entablar un diálogo referido a los AT que sea intercultural?

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