With a provocative title such as this, it is easy to imagine how the rest of the story will go. Philosophy, one will read, no longer has an effective role to play in society. One could perhaps draw on the authority of Stephen Hawking and argue, as Hawking does, that philosophy is dead and serves no purpose for it is now physics that best provides the answers to the questions that were once the focus of philosophers. The title may also lead one to anticipate the economic argument where philosophy is portrayed as being one of the most useless of the humanities degrees with the subsequent encouragement that one pursue, for the sake of their professional future, a more economically viable degree.

If either of these arguments are what the “philosophy has no future” title intends, then there are counter-arguments at the ready. With respect to the first, there is plenty of room to argue, as many have (see Laurie Paul’s essay for example), that the physics Hawking encourages presupposes a metaphysics that leaves plenty of opportunity for traditional philosophical questions to gain traction and in turn foster cooperative engagement between philosophy and science (Roberta’s excellent post along with Eric’s post on dark matter are cases in point of just such cooperation). There is also plenty of evidence to challenge the common assumption that philosophy is not a good degree to pursue in order to get a lucrative job upon graduation. Far from being a hindrance to future economic success, philosophy majors on the whole earn more than graduates with other degrees (see this story [h/t Catarina]). Philosophy majors also outperform students from other majors when it comes to standardized tests – e.g., LSAT, GRE (see this).

These counter-arguments are persuasive and as far as I’m concerned definitively undermine the two assumptions that may appear to motivate the title of this post. These assumptions, however, are not what motivated the title. What motivated it instead is not the notion that philosophy has no future because it has been displaced by competing forces that have now taken over the future that philosophy could once claim, but rather that the very attitude that philosophy ought to have such a future is itself derivative of a philosophy that has no future.

I would propose defending, to state the thesis more directly, a contemporary reworking of Camus’ philosophy of the absurd.

Key to understanding the relationship between a philosophy with a telos and a philosophy without hope or future (à la Camus), is to look to what philosophers do as a result of their encounters with the absurd, or with what I would call the problematic (following Deleuze and Foucault who, in many ways I would argue, take onboard key components of Camus’ thought). What philosophers do in such encounters, in short, is to create concepts in response to the problematic. Such concepts, however, do not function as representations of an already existent reality, fencing in and demarcating what is there so to speak; nor are philosophic concepts tools of discovery whereby that which is not known to be there comes to be identified as having been there all along. In both these cases concepts are understood relative to an already individuated reality. These concepts, in short, are related to a past that gives them their substantive content.

At the same time philosophers do not create concepts as part of the process of addressing a set of established, acceptable problems in order to attain a possible solution, even if the solution to the problem is unanticipated and not clearly demarcated in advance by the way the problem is conceptualized. When philosophy creates concepts, therefore, it is not, to adopt Kuhn’s terminology, engaged in the practice of normal science. Concepts are not a means to solving problems. Philosophers also do not create concepts that anticipate or prophesize an improbable, apparently impossible future, a future that may nonetheless come to pass and fulfill the prophecy (see Eric Schliesser’s post on this subject). Whether the conceptual innovations and creations realize a solution that was already anticipated and sought for as a possibility, or whether they emerge as the prophetic call for an improbable future that becomes fulfilled, in each of these cases the creation of concepts is related to a future that gives these concepts their substantive content.

The task of a philosophy that has no future is not one of creating concepts that get their substantive content from an already presupposed past or from a future that serves as its yet-to-be-realized telos. The concepts of a philosophy that has no future neither lack a future state nor are they related to an already individuated past. The concepts are, instead, creative events that allow for the possibility of the relationship between philosophy and its past and future, whether past solutions or potential future solutions.

What then is the relation of philosophical concepts to the past and future? Put simply, as related to a problematic condition, philosophical concepts are creative events that are neither reducible to nor exhausted by the past, nor are they exhausted by the solutions that come to pass in the future. Philosophical concepts are thus not unlike Nietzsche’s characterization, in his “Uses and Abuses of History for Life” essay, of the individuals within the “republic of genius” who “live contemporaneously with one another” and who are no longer caught up in “any kind of process” but rather call “to [one] another across the desert intervals of time.” When a philosophical concept relates to the concepts of a past philosopher—such as when Kant, for instance, adopted Plato’s use of the concept Idea—it is the problematic that is the contemporaneous condition that allows for the possibility of the relationship between the current concept (Kant’s “transcendental Idea”) and the past concept (Plato’s Idea [for Kant’s use of Plato’s concept of ‘idea’, see CPR A313/B370]). This contemporaneous condition, however, is neither fully present in the past (Plato) nor in a future iteration and variation of this past (Kant). A concept as problematic event is thus not to be strictly identified with the past or the future; it has no identifiable past or future, nor is it an identifiable process of the past becoming future—it is what one might call a contemporaneous all at once (implying monism, see this post).

As Deleuze states a related point in the opening pages of Difference and Repetition, the “fall of the Bastille,” or “Monet’s first water lily” are, as events, not the already individuated reality that comes to be repeated and commemorated by future holidays, or represented by the other water lily paintings Monet would paint (or even the paintings of other impressionist painters who would draw inspiration from them); rather, as an event, it is “the fall of the Bastille which celebrates and repeats in advance all the Federation Days; or Monet’s first water lily which repeats all the others.” (DR 1). Similarly for the concept as an event, it is contemporaneous to its past and future manifestations without being confused or identified with them—it has no past or future precisely because it is the condition for the possibility of identifying a difference between a philosophical past and future.

I’ll close with how an example of what I take to be a philosophy with no future, or an example of a contemporary extension of Camus.

Foucault

In Fearless Speech Foucault offers a distinction between “history of ideas” and “history of thought” that addresses, implicitly at least, one of the key criticisms that has been directed at Foucault’s work by historians—namely, historians often criticize Foucault for being too loose with the facts and for lacking the rigor of proper historical methodology. As a result, they argue, many of the claims Foucault makes regarding the nature and history of past events, such as the history of madness, prisons, etc., are suspect.

As Foucault lays out the distinction between a history of ideas and a history of thought, he claims that a history of ideas “tries to determine when a specific concept appears,” and it further attempts an “analysis of [this concept] from its birth, through its development, and in the setting of other ideas which constitute its context.” (FS 74). If this were what Foucault was attempting to do, then the criticism that he lacked historical rigor may be germane, but Foucault is doing a history of thought, which he claims consists of “the analysis of the way an unproblematic field of experience, or a set of practices, which were accepted without question, which were familiar and ‘silent,’ out of discussion, becomes a problem, raises discussion and debate, incites new reactions, and induces a crisis in the previously silent behavior, habits, practices, and institutions.” (ibid.). Moreover, the conceptual innovations that enabled Foucault to address the problematization of an “unproblematic field of experience” (archaeology, regimes of truth, etc.) were intended not simply to portray and represent the problems of the past but more importantly they show how these problems constitute the contemporaneous condition of the manner in which we currently experience madness, crime, and sex. Foucault’s concepts are thus not to be confused with the problems of the past. They are also not to be confused with a future state that Foucault calls upon or prophesizes. If the problematization of our contemporary field of experience brings about changes in the future, it is not because the changes that occur were what Foucault’s project intended to bring about; rather, such changes will emerge as solutions to the problematization that Foucault’s conceptual innovations help to bring about while doing so without exhausting or eliminating the problematic as such. The contemporaneous nature of problems will forever be without an exhaustive and determinate relation to the past and future; there will always be an aspect of these problems that escapes the past and future, or it does not have and is not to be identified with a determinate past or future. To the extent then that Foucault’s project is concerned with creating concepts in relation to these problems, his philosophy has no future.

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4 responses to “Philosophy has no future”

  1. Gordon Avatar

    This is really interesting, and really well put. Let me just add more evidence from Foucault’s work that suggests you’re right. In interviews mainly around the publication of Discipline and Punish, he precisely talks about what philosophy is good for. He uses the word “toolbox” in this context quite a bit, and he explicitly disavows what he takes to be the insufferable bossiness of Marxism. So in his interview with Trombadori, he says that “I absolutely will not play the part of one who prescribes solutions. I hold that the role of the intellectual today is not that of establishing laws or proposing solutions or prophesying, since by doing that one can only contribute to the functioning of a determinate situation of power that to my mind must be criticized” (Remarks on Marx, 157). He continues: “I carefully guard myself against making the law. Rather, I concern myself with determining problems, unleashing them, revealing them within the framework of such complexity as to shut the mouths of prophets and legislators: all those who speak for others and above others. It is that moment that the complexity of the problem will be able to appear in its connection with people’s lives; and consequently, the legitimacy of a common enterprise will be able to appear through concrete questions, difficult cases, revolutionary movements, relfections, and evidence” (159; emphasis original).
    Deleuze’s influence is probably important here, but given the context of the interview, one could also read him as working directly from Marx’s 11th “Thesis on Feuerbach:” if the point is to “change” the world (rather than “interpret” it), then you have to give up on the idea that your changes can fit into some grand, theodicy-like narrative. And, as he says elsewhere, if the problems go away, or if the tools he provides aren’t useful, then don’t use them. But the specific distancing of himself from any sort of “prophecy” strikes me as a very striking way of saying that philosophy as he practices lacks a future. As Kafka said, the messiah will come only when he is no longer necessary.

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  2. Jeff Bell Avatar

    Thanks for this Gordon! I had forgotten the Kafka quote you close with. It’s perfect. Thanks as well for the quotes from the Trombadori interview. The toolbox theme, as you know, was also prominent in the dialogue between Foucault and Deleuze, published as “Intellectuals and Power.” I wonder if you would agree with my claim that whatever the merits of the arguments that Foucault’s thought was shifting dramatically in his final years might be, Foucault’s focus on problematizing the “unquestioned field of experience” was an ongoing concern in his work from the start. It may become a more explicit theme by his later work – Fearless Speech was the 1983 Berkley seminar (so very late indeed) – but it was there all along.

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  3. Gordon Avatar

    Yeah, I love the Kafka quote – I tend to want to align it with Benjamin and moments in Adorno, but it seemed apt here, too.
    I’m inclined to agree that early Foucault is trying to shake up the “unquestioned field of experience.” I don’t know the early work as well, but opening early parts of History of Madness seems to bear that out: in the first couple of pages of the confinement chapter, for example, he suggests that the “field of alienation … had already been constituted before it came to be symbolised and peopled by the same. That field was cicrumscribed in real terms in the space of confinement, and the form it took should show us how the experience of madness came into existence” (81). Or, a few pages later (I cite this b/c of his later discussion of the family in Abnormal, HS 1, STP, and so on), “confinement and the whole police structure that surrounded it served to control a certain order in family structures, which was at once a social regulator and a norm of reason” (89). I’m also a fan of Lynne Huffer’s Mad for Foucualt which takes as one of its central premises that the difference b/t early and late Foucault is way overstated.
    In other words, I think his claim in “Subject and Power” that his work has all along been “to create a history of the different modes by which, in our culture, human beings are made subjects” is perfectly reasonable. To learn how people become and are subjects is precisely to bring experience into question, and to do so in a way that the phenomenological/Sartrean “philosophies of the subject” that he was trying to avoid creating do not.

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  4. Peter Petrakis Avatar
    Peter Petrakis

    This is my first time responding. Why so reluctant? I’m literally across the hall from Jeff; I’m not a philosopher; and I’m hesitant about blogs. Despite these lame excuses, I felt a few comments were worth typing up.
    I take Camus’s understanding of the absurd as part of his larger efforts. If one keeps in mind his comments in “The Artist and His Time,” Camus felt that art (and philosophy) could no longer (if it ever did) stay on the political sidelines.
    As a man, I have a preference for happiness; as an artist, it seems to me that I still have characters to bring to life without the help of wars or of law-courts. But I have been sought out, as each individual has been sought out. Artists of the past could at least keep silent in the face of tyranny. The tyrannies of today are improved; they no longer admit of silence or neutrality. One has to take a stand, be either for or against. Well, in that case, I am against.
    Camus’s absurd is not so much a philosophical concept as a warning about the experience of the absurd. In the Myth, he notes “[t]hat nostalgia for unity, that appetite for the absolute illustrates the essential impulse of the human drama.” This drive for unity, which is ultimately frustrated, results in the experience of the absurd.
    I said that the world was absurd, but I was too hasty. This world in itself is not reasonable, that is all that can be said. Burt what is absurd is the confrontation of this irrationality and the wild longing for clarity whose call echoes in the human heart. The absurd depends as much on man as on the world.
    It is at this moment, what Jeff describes as the problematic, most people can’t cope with such frustration and opt for philosophic and/or religious suicide–basically imposing a telos onto reality (or, more particularly, others). Thus, I read his comments on the absurd as a cautionary tale about the dangers of those who cannot/will not come to terms with the limits of rationality. We want to know the purpose of existence or that there is a purpose to the future (i.e., telos), yet when frustrated some folks are more than ready to impose their solution on others. This denial of the problematic, this suicide, has dangerous implications and this is why rebellion is so important. By saying no to ideological solutions (the various isms) we affirm the problematic. In short, I see the absurd in a political context. This is not to deny that understanding the problematic is vital/necessary for the truly creative moment. Indeed, the artistic art is of central importance to Camus.
    Pete

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