Last week, I offered some some hypotheses about why philosophers are hard to understand.
One further possibility is that some philosophers intentionally cultivate an an oracular quality.
Oracular words tend to be ambiguous, layered, rich.
The cynical reason for this is that “polysemy” (many meanings) allows the oracle to hedge, and thus to be right no matter the outcome. Should the prophecy turn out to be incorrect, the problem isn’t the oracle—the faithful can always retort—but the listener/reader, who failed to interpret the words correctly.
A more devotional view is that the philosopher believes the form or style of their work must enact the very ideas the work espouses. Thus, if Nietzsche is a perspectivalist, who believes there is no one true point of view, he must write in a way that is itself perspectivalist. If Heidegger believes that language is the medium in which we think, and not simply one object amongst many that we can think about—his words will have to call attention to this fact.
There’s a part of me that thinks philosophers are wrong not to write clearly—and another part of me that thinks the poetry and oracular quality are lost when the work is reduced to propositions.
In any event, their lack of clarity is my arbitrage opportunity. If I am not a sage, perhaps I can be the Warby Parker of wisdom.
Now, to get “meta,”—here is a passage from Heidegger’s Being and Time (p. 202):
“It is the business of philosophy to protect the power of the most elemental words in which Dasein [existence] expresses itself from being flattened by the common understanding to the point of unintelligibility, which in turn functions as source for illusory problems.”
The simple meaning of what Heidegger is saying is that the philosopher must pay attention to the common words that people use and prevent them from becoming thoughtless cliches. When people use words carelessly and thoughtlessly, they end up creating “illusory problems,” that is, fake problems that pose as real.
But what does Heidegger mean by “the power of elemental words”?
I’m not sure.
Do I wish Heidegger gave a more precise definition of “elemental words”—what they are and what they are not? Maybe. But another part of me feels that the phrase “elemental words” does something that a definition can’t. It makes me feel and intuit the idea that a word can be elemental. Just as natural phenomena are composed of combinations of elements (Water=H20), concepts and ideas are formed of combinations of elemental words.
One consequence of assuming the existence of elemental words is that certain words can’t be translated. Bedrock words are simply given. If a thinker is difficult to understand because they use elemental words, this is a foible we can forgive. The difficulty invites us to familiarize ourselves with the building blocks. On the other hand, if the difficulty arises because the philosopher is simply being conceptually unclear, this is a problem.
Do you believe there are such things as elemental words? What power do they have? How do you distinguish between fundamental words (atoms) and complex ones (molecules)? In what way can philosophers protect or preserve the power of elemental words?
What is Called Thinking? is a practice of asking a daily question on the belief that self-reflection brings awe, joy, and enrichment to one’s life. Consider becoming a subscriber to support this project and access subscriber-only content.
You can read my weekly Torah commentary here.