The Hegelian dialectic consists of three parts: thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. We went over this in class, but it plays a central role in pretty much every area of Hegel’s philosophical work, so it bears repeating and extended elucidation. So consider the thesis to be something like “the sky is blue” and its antithesis to be something like “the sky is black.” Now, taken at face value, these two statements contradict each other, and if the debaters who issued them believe in their respective statements with an absolute fervor, their discussion isn’t going to move much. However, through conversation, they can each come to understand the other’s viewpoint and perhaps arrive at a compromise. In this case, the conversation would probably include a few qualifications to the statements that would diminish the reasons to believe absolutely in one or the other: “when the sun is out, the sky is a blue color,” and “when the sun is not out and the stars are visible, the sky appears black.” These qualifications reveal that the color of the sky is contingent on light source and—we can deduce—time of day. As a result, we can come to a synthesis: “the sky is blue during the day, and black at night.” This synthesis includes both of the previous claims; rather than negating the claims themselves, it simply negates the contradiction between them.
Now, this is a fairly reductive way to illustrate the dialectic, but it gives a good idea of what Hegel is getting at when he talks about dialectical reason. Moreover, we can see where this line of reasoning can go: the claim “the sky is blue during the day and black at night” can be argued against (what about cloud cover? Light pollution? Geographic location?) and continually revised, moving from general sorts of statements like “the sky is blue” to very specific statements like “in Memphis, TN on days with little cloud cover, the sky is blue between sunrise and sunset.” For Hegel, this sort of progression is indicative of a movement toward “truth,” which refers to knowledge of absolute facts that are necessary to being. It seems that “truth” or “the absolute” is reached when no antithesis can be offered; at this point we will have achieved absolute certainty.
What is interesting to me here is that, for synthesis to be reached, neither the thesis nor the antithesis can be true in an absolute sense: both debaters must be open to revising their statements, providing qualifications that recognize contingencies, hence opening themselves to the possibility of not being completely right. So what happens when we have two claims like “God exists” and “God does not exist” (to make this a bit simpler, consider “God” to be referring to the commonly-accepted Judeo-Christian deity)? Strictly speaking, both cannot be correct. Nor does it seem likely that either debater would give much ground on the issue. So can we arrive at a synthesis? Even if we revised them into statements of belief (i.e. “I believe that God exists”), it doesn’t seem that we could really come out with an answer. This seems indicative of a need to move away from the search for absolutes in favor of a recognition and embrace of contingency. Most of my work centers around this idea, and I’ll be returning to it here over the course of the semester. What do y’all think? Can we really maintain a view that absolute certainty is even possible?
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I think it is important that we acknowledge a significant distinction between the two examples you've offered. In the sky example, either debater, over the course of the argument, could point to empirical evidence. Eventually, the two might even sit outside together and experience the sky's changing color. Because this type of experiential proof is available, it seems certain that the issue will be resolved and some absolute truth will be reached. At the very least, experience will prove both of the original absolute statements false.
ReplyDeleteIn the second example—the debate over whether or not God exists— there is nothing innate in the claims themselves that make them harder to synthesize. From one perspective, these claims are no different or more powerful than those concerning the color of the sky. However, the difference is the lack of clear supporting evidence. What can either debater point to that will have any merit with the other? Perhaps the dialectic's ability to synthesize is simply tied up in whether or not the combatting claims are grounded in empirical evidence.
Zack, I agree that neither statement can really be compared in the light that you present them in. However, if Hegel maintains that experience determines the nature of the truth that is derived from the entire system of a process, then wouldn't the existence of God be a moot argument (at least for me: I do not experience God, so I can never know the truth of what God is). I may have a concept of God, or other such abstract institutions, but I cannot know its truth (simply because I cannot part out the components which make God exist). In another sense though, the existence of the idea of God (as He/it/they exist in my life) I can experience. I can read about God's importance in civilized society or how the idea of God has helped many people get through tough times-but this is another truth that is not related to divinity.
ReplyDeleteMark, I have some of the same questions. What can we be certain about according to Hegel? Who will know the truth of the world if the truth cannot be known until the end of the process?
Good stuff here.
Hey, this all sounds really good. I had a lot of similar questions regarding certainty in Hegel's system. It seems to be that certainty has more to do with a feeling than actual knowledge. If we begin to think about certainty critically, even outside of Hegel's dialectic, we may begin to question the our own reality and what constitutes a real thing. Now, I am not proposing some kind of Berklean skepticism, rather, I am trying to point to possibilities for experience. I suppose that would take us into the realm of metaphysics instead of epistemology but it seems to be a natural progression. According to Hegel's system of thinking, we must negate the negation in which the opposing sides must give up a prior feeling of certainty in order to make strides toward truth. But if I cannot trust what constitutes my knowing and, then despair does not to be far behind.
ReplyDeleteI realize I have gone off on a tangent a bit, but I think that Hegel's system is pointing to a kind of emotional disassociation with what we believe to be true. Despite a feeling of certainty (which may allow for a better argument) we are always wrong and instead of taking it personally, there is hope that through the dialectical process with absolute truth in sight (although, we will probably never really know it. Damn.).
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ReplyDeleteCharlotte: Here and elsewhere, you (and also some others, elsewhere) have expressed a sort of discomfort with Hegel's system. Indeed, it is unsettling to consider that any "truth" I hold is actually a small step on the way to some larger Truth that I won't experience, and is necessarily fallible and must be altered to a seemingly endless degree.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I do find Hegel's general concept of the Absolute to be pretty comforting. If I consider my own consciousness as an example, I can think back to many truths I've held that I no longer put stock in (and in some cases, am mortified that I ever did), and I think it's nice to understand all prior beliefs as important, contingent pieces of the whole of my consciousness.
(I realize this is a step in the "feelings" realm, as well as an application of Hegel's actual Absolute to a particular case, but there you go. Me trying to find the individual access point again.)
Halley