"The phenomenological movement fits very neatly, almost exactly, into the twentieth century. The work that is generally considered to be the first true phenomenological work, Edmund Husserl's Logical Investigations, appeared in two parts in the years 1900 and 1901, so the new movement began precisely with the dawning of the century. Moreover, this date was literally a new beginning, because Husserl was so truly an original philosopher. He cannot be considered as continuing a tradition that had taken shape before him; even Martin Heidegger, as strong a philosopher as he was, can be understood only in the tradition opened up by Husserl, but Husserl did not have any such overshadowing predecessors."
"Another important singularity in our spontaneous experience is the self, the ego, the l. If the world is the widest whole and the most encompassing context, the I is the center around which this widest whole, with all the things in it, is arranged. Paradoxically, the I is a thing in the world, but it is a thing like no other: it is a thing in the world that also cognitively has the world, the thing to whom the world as a whole, with all the things in it, manifests itself. The I is the dative of manifestation. It is the entity to whom the world and all the things in it can be given, the one who can receive the world in knowledge. Of course, there are many I's, many egos, many selves, but even among all of them one stands out as the preeminent center, namely me (that is, you, as you read these words and think them through for yourself). These strange facts about the self or the ego are not just tricks of language, not just peculiarities of the first and second person singular; they belong to the kind of being a rational creature is, a creature that can think, that can say "I," and that can have the world even while being a part of the world. The rational soul, as Aristotle says, is somehow all things. The world as a whole and the I as the center are the two singularities between which all other things can be placed. The world and the I are correlated with one another in a way different from the manner in which a particular intentionality is correlated with the thing that it intends. The world and the ego provide an ultimate dual, elliptical context for everything."
"The meaning seems to be a strange intermediate entity between the word and the object, an entity that seems to spring into being in response to the signifying act. It seems to be a mentalistic being of some sort, an "intension," as it has been called. Where is this meaning, and what kind of thing is it? Is it in the mind or in the word? Does it exist at all? The status of the verbal meaning is a philosophical perplexity."
"We never show up to ourselves in the world as just one more thing; we stand out, each of us, as central, as the agents of our intentional life, as the one who has the world and the things in it given to him. Our power of disclosure, our being the dative of manifestation for things that appear, introduces us into the life of reason and the human way of being."
"There is a marvelous ambiguity to the ego: on the one hand, it is an ordinary part of the world, one of the many things that inhabit it. It occupies space, endures through time, has physical and psychic features, and interacts causally with other things in the world: if it falls, it falls like any other body; if it is pushed, it topples over like any other thing; if it is treated with chemicals, it reacts like any living organism; if light rays hit its visual organs, it reacts electronically, chemically, and psychologically. "I" am a material, organic, and psychological thing. If we were to take the self simply as one of the things in the world, we would be treating it as what can be called the empirical ego. On the other hand, this very same self can also be played off against the world: it is the center of disclosure to whom the world and everything in it manifest themselves. It is the agent of truth, the one responsible for judgments and verifications, the perceptual and cognitive "owner" of the world. When considered in this manner, it is no longer simply a part of the world; it is what is called the transcendental ego."
"There is a strong tendency to reduce the transcendental ego to the empirical. When we deal with human cognition, we tend to want to treat it as merely one more item in the causal exchanges that go on in the world, on a par with things simply engaged in mechanical, chemical, and biological causation. Thus, the generation of knowledge in the mind is often taken to be just like the generation of chemical changes in the body. We think we can give an exhaustive explanation of what knowledge is by giving an account of what happens, say, in the brain and nervous system when we come to know things. Many writers in cognitive science, for example, try to reduce knowledge and other rational achievements to merely physical brain states. To try to handle knowledge in this way could be called biologism or biological reductionism. Another kind of reductionism, a more sophisticated kind, is the psychological; it is called psychologism. From its beginning in the early twentieth century, phenomenology attacked the psychologistic interpretation of truth, reason, and the ego; psychologism was the foil against which phenomenology originally defined itself. Nevertheless, paradoxically enough, many people mistakenly regard phenomenology itself as a form of psychologism.
What is meant by "psychologism"? Psychologism is the claim that things like logic, truth, verification, evidence, and reasoning are simply empirical activities of our psyche. In psychologism, reason and truth are naturalized. Laws of truth and logic are taken to be high-level empirical laws that describe how our minds function; they are not seen as constituents of the very meaning of truth and reason. For example, in psychologism, the principle of noncontradiction would be taken simply as a statement of how our minds work; it would state how we happen to arrange our ideas; it would not be seen as governing how things have to reveal themselves. It would tell us about the habits, whether innate or acquired, of our mind, not about how things have to be and how they have to disclose themselves. Also, the fact that human languages require syntax would be presented as simply a historical fact about human beings and their psychological development. Psychologism, along with biologism, treats meaning and truth as a matter of empirical fact, not as a dimension that underlies and hence transcends the empirical, not as a dimension that belongs to the being of things.
Psychologism is the most common and the most insidious form of reductionism. Biologism follows closely behind it. Once we reduce laws of meaning, truth, and logic to psychological laws, we will be inclined to reduce them one step farther to the biological structures that underlie our psychology. Thus, in biologism the fact that human language essentially involves syntax would be taken as caused simply by the way the brain is wired and the way it has evolved. It would not be based on the fact that things must be articulated when they are disclosed. The entire explanation for syntax would be brain based, with no regard paid to the way things exist and present themselves.
A phenomenological approach, on the other hand, would obviously agree that the wiring of the brain is one of the causes for syntax in language, as well as for perception, categorial intentions, and knowledge and science, but it would then claim that one must also provide an explanation of another kind based on the things that appear. Besides looking to the wiring in the brain, we must also look to the fact that things can be distinguished into wholes and parts, that they can be perceived and pictured, that essentials and accidentals can be distinguished in them when they present themselves to us. This second kind of explanation is different, obviously, from the kind of explanation that studies the wiring in the brain and our psychic dispositions; it may be hard to get clear on what kind of explanation this second kind is, but it cannot be dispensed with.
Phenomenology has waged a heroic struggle against psychologism from the beginning. It tries to show that the activity of achieving meaning, truth, and logical reasoning is not just a feature of our psychological or biological makeup, but that it enters into a new domain, a domain of rationality, a domain that goes beyond the psychological. It is not easy to make this distinction. The ego is indeed both empirical and transcendental, and one can limit one's consideration to the empirical side of things. Meaning and truth also have their empirical dimensions, but they are more than just empirical things. To treat them as simply psychological is to leave out something important. However, it is not easy to show what that extra something is."
"The paradoxical relationship of the self as both a part of the world and the one who has a world comes to the fore again in regard to temporality: the internal flow of consciousness is nested within the processes going on in the world, but it also stands over against the world and provides the noetic structures that allow the world to appear. We find ourselves living in both objective and subjective time. The dative of manifestation, the transcendental ego, is not a single and static point; it involves a process that goes on in time, but in its own internal temporality, not in the objective temporality of clock and calendar. Now, if internal time is a condition for the appearance of objective time, the third level of temporality, the consciousness of internal time, is in its turn a condition for the appearance of internal time."
"It is necessary, therefore, to say that in our immediate experience we do not just have frames of presence given to us; right in our most elementary experience, we have a sense of past and future directly given. To use the phrase of William James, our experience of the present is not a knife edge but a saddleback. Whatever is given to us in perception is given as trailing off and also as coming into presence. If our experience of the present were not like this, we never would acquire a sense of past or of the future. To try to insert such senses into our experience "later on," after our initial experience, would be too late. A primary sense of past and future has to be given right from the start."
Furthermore, claiming that we have such a rudimentary sense of past and future is not just a postulation that we are led to by argument; it is not a hypothesis or an inference. Rather, it fits the way we experience things: whatever we experience, whether things and processes in the world or subjective acts and feelings, we experience as "goings-on," as passing as they exist. Only because they trail off now can we remember them later and recognize them as past, and only because they come into view now can we anticipate them at a greater distance. When we reflect on our experience, we find it to be an exposure into the immediate past and future. The initial absences of pastness and futurity are present in all our experience. There are several technical terms that have been introduced in phenomenology to help describe the immediate experience of time. The term the living present signifies the full immediate experience of temporality that we have at any instant. The living present is the temporal whole at any instant. This living present, as the whole, is composed of three moments: primal impression, retention, and protention. These three abstract parts, these three moments, are inseparable. We could never have a retention just by itself, nor could we have a primal impression or a protention just by itself. The living present is a whole made up of these three parts as moments."
"The way we break out of the immediate present into the future and past has been called by Heidegger, somewhat dramatically, the ecstatic character of our experience, and the three forms of opening have been called the ecstases of time. The terms are drawn from the Greek preposition ek, "out," and the noun stasis, which comes from the verb histemi, "to stand," implying that in our most basic temporal experience we are not locked into a solitary presence, but stand out into the future and the past."
"The domain of internal time consciousness underlies both the subjective flow of internal time and the objective flow of world time, transcendent time. It allows both of these flows to manifest themselves, and it is phenomenologically more basic than they are. However, this domain could not exist by itself. Its whole sense is to manifest the temporal objects in the two streams of time, subjective and objective. We could not isolate internal time consciousness and "have" it by itself alone."
"Science has great authority in our culture because people think that it tells us the truth of things. Even human things like consciousness, language, and reasoning will, it is said, be ultimately explained in terms of the brain sciences, which in turn will be reducible, in principle if not in fact, to the physical sciences of physics and chemistry. We have two worlds, then, the world in which we live and the world described by the mathematical sciences, and it is generally thought that the life world is a mere phenomenon, totally subjective, while the world of mathematical science is the truly objective world."
"Developments in physics and mathematics in this century have raised questions about the exactness of the natural sciences. Such discoveries as indeterminacy of measurement and observer relatedness in quantum theory, relativity theory, the incompleteness theorem in mathematics, nonlinear systems, chaos theory, and fuzzy logic have cast doubt on the rather tidy understanding of the world that was present in Newtonian physics and the science and mathematics that prevailed during the early years of phenomenology."
"Any truth that we achieve is always surrounded by absence and hiddenness, by mystery..."
"Phenomenology is the science that studies truth. It stands back from our rational involvement with things and marvels at the fact that there is disclosure, that things do appear, that the world can be understood, and that we in our life of thinking serve as datives for the manifestation of things. Philosophy is the art and science of evidencing evidence."
"Modern philosophy has two major components: political philosophy and epistemology. In both these components, modern philosophy defined itself, in its origins, as a revolution against ancient and medieval thought. Machiavelli, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, prided himself on initiating new modes and orders in poIi tical life, and Francis Bacon and Descartes, in the early seventeenth century, declared that they were introducing new ways of thinking about nature and the human mind, ways which require that we abandon our inherited and commonsense convictions and take up a new method of directing our minds in the search for knowledge."
"Like the political, the epistemological component of modernity has also had its history: it moved through the rationalism of Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz, through the empiricism of Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, through the critical philosophy of Kant and his followers, through the idealism of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, and through the positivism and pragmatism of nineteenth- and twentieth-century thought. There is a difference, however, in that epistemology has not come to closure as political philosophy has. Despite the great success of the modern sciences, and despite the strenuous efforts of movements like artificial intelligence and cognitive science, there is no epistemological equivalent of the modern state in uncontested possession of the field. As a theory of knowledge and method, modernity is still unfinished, and it is to this branch of modern thought that phenomenology makes its contribution."
"What was it in Husserl that most influenced Heidegger? I would suggest that it was the fact that in Husserl the Cartesian or the modern epistemological problem had been dissolved and overcome. The notion of a solitary, self-enclosed consciousness, aware only of itself and its own sensations and thoughts, was disposed of by Husserl's concept of intentionality. Indeed, the epistemological problem is ridiculed in Being and Time §13. We experience and perceive things, not just the appearances or impacts or impressions that things make on us. Things appear to us through a manifold of presentations. Husserl presented this realism not only by pointing out the self-contradictions of the Cartesian and Lockean position, of the way of ideas, but also by working out detailed descriptive analyses of various forms of intentionality, analyses that proved themselves by virtue of their precision and convincingness. One does not prove realism; how could one do so? One displays it."