Where do we come from? Are we merely a cluster of elementary particles in a gigantic world receptacle? And what does it all mean?
In this highly original new book, the philosopher Markus Gabriel challenges our notion of what exists and what it means to exist. He questions the idea that there is a world that encompasses everything like a container life, the universe, and everything else. This all-inclusive being does not exist and cannot exist. For the world itself is not found in the world. And even when we think about the world, the world about which we think is obviously not identical with the world in which we think. For, as we are thinking about the world, this is only a very small event in the world. Besides this, there are still innumerable other objects and events: rain showers, toothaches and the World Cup. Drawing on the recent history of philosophy, Gabriel asserts that the world cannot exist at all, because it is not found in the world. Yet with the exception of the world, everything else exists; even unicorns on the far side of the moon wearing police uniforms.
Revelling in witty thought experiments, word play, and the courage of provocation, Markus Gabriel demonstrates the necessity of a questioning mind and the role that humour can play in coming to terms with the abyss of human existence.
Markus Gabriel was born in 1980 and studied in Heidelberg, Lisbon and New York. Since 2009 he has held the chair for Epistemology at the University of Bonn; and with this appointment he became Germany's youngest philosophy professor. He is also the director of the International Center for Philosophy in Bonn.
"The world does not exist", but maybe the universe does. And the unicorn too.
I had great expectations about the book. The cover title is an epistemology question. But, I guess, it is not that satisfactory, the author's answer, in the first chapters of the book. I think it needs a bit of refinement, his notion of “fields of sense”.
I had the privilege of watching his presentation on Ted Talks (München) and having heard him saying that the “fields of sense” are "contexts". I pretty much doubt many understood his justification for a non-existent world. (Elsewhere I heard him saying about the meaning of his book: "denying the metaphysical principle of the unity of reality”). His epistemological stance (New Realism) needs elaboration. So I got a bit disappointed, and, I acknowledge how far (and away) from Kant, Markus Gabriel is.
And yet, I was certainly pleased by the last chapter on Art. And, in a lesser degree, I was also pleased with the penultimate chapter on Religion.
I will keep my belief in the Unicorn.
UPDATE1
Sir Markus Gabriel,
Though "the world doesn't exist", there are those trying to save it, "the whole world". If only you could tell them it's pointless. Isn't it?
UPDATE2
Sir Markus Gabriel,
I've heard you saying (in the Gran Canarias), in Spanish language, ”the only discipline that studies the structure of thought is Philosophy. Most important and most general of all disciplines."
Sir, do you know what cognitive psychologists do/study? Regards.
UPDATE3
For some the world still exists. It may come to an end, though.
This is a pretty demanding book. It's written with wit and in a rather engaging style, but it's still a tough intellectual work-out. On the whole I think it's worth the effort, but it's not an unmitigated intellectual treat by any means.
I am not a philosopher, although I have studied Philosophy of Science and it's an interest which I have kept up. Markus Gabriel makes a decent stab at moving on from the sort of postmodern nonsense we've been subjected to of "our internal view of the world cannot be the world itself, so therefore (!) anyone's internal view is equally valid." He does it with wit and verve and makes a decent case for his "New Realism."
It's not really for an amateur like me in a place like this to attempt to assess how valid Gabriel's ideas may be. However, with his admittedly slightly playful assertion that the title that the world as an entirety is not to be found within the world and therefore (!) cannot exist, he seems to me to be on some very thin philosophical ice. Philosophers do like to play fast and loose with logical operators like "therefore" and "because" and Gabriel isn't immune from this. For what it's worth, this just reads to me as a simple category error, like, "Here we have a pair of gloves. However, the *pair* is not contained within the gloves, so therefore (!) the pair cannot exist." The physical gloves and the concept of a pair are not of the same category, so this is plainly logical nonsense, and Gabriel seems to me to be making the same error about the world. I had a similar sense in a number of places, but it's reasonably cogent and sound enough to be stimulating rather than just infuriating. (This is a considerable relief to someone who has actually read the whole of Baudrillard's The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, for example.)
There is sometimes the slightly arrogant feel which seems to occur in a lot of philosophical writing where authors adopt an "if you don't agree then you're too stupid to understand" tone. It's not as bad here as in some I've read, though, and at least the writing is largely comprehensible.
I'd say this is well worth a go if you're interested in this sort of thing. It is decently written, has some stimulating stuff in it and did make me think, which is, I suppose, what I'm looking for in a book like this. I can recommend it on that basis.
Slavoj Žižek nennt das Buch auf dem Umschlag eine „großartige Gedankenübung“ und das ist es gewiss. Bei alledem ist der Text aber auch gut lesbar und sogar ohne große philosophische Vorbildung mühelos zu versehen. Der Autor hat also ein seltenes Talent!
Vielleicht ist philosophische Vorbildung sogar hinderlich, verstellt sie doch den Blick auf das Einfache und Naheliegende. Kann ein (2013 noch) junger Mann im 21. Jahrhundert einfach so mit 2500 Jahren Philosophiegeschichte brechen, indem er Spinoza (Monismus), Descartes (Dualismus) und auch Aristoteles einfach mal eben so „entsorgt“? Gegen Spinoza wird eingewendet, dass nicht Alles mit Allem zusammenhängt, weswegen es kein großes Ganzes als das Eine geben könne. Die Welt als Gesamtzusammenhang alles Seienden gibt es daher nicht. Auch die Lösung des Descartes, Geist und Welt einander gegenüberzustellen, was auf die altbekannte Subjekt- Objekt- Dialektik inklusive der Unterscheidung von Materialismus/ Naturalismus oder Idealismus hinausläuft, wird verworfen. Insofern Gabriel die lateinische Bedeutung von „Existenz“ wörtlich nimmt, insistiert er darauf, dass „Existieren“ eben „Erscheinen“ bedeutet, was auch meint, dass es immer einen Rahmen geben muss, in dem etwas erscheint. Gabriel nennt das „Gegenstandsbereiche“, wobei nicht jeder Gegenstand in beliebig vielen Gegenstandsbereichen erscheinen kann und es womöglich Bereiche gibt, die uns und unseren Sinnen eben (noch) nicht erscheinen. Damit dem Descartes „Welt“ also erscheinen könnte, müsste er einen Gesamtzusammenhang erfassen, den er wie wir, der Unendlichkeit wegen nie würde erfassen können. Der Rückzug auf das „Cogito- ergo- Sum“ ist dabei untauglich, da auch das Selbst- Bewusstsein irgendwo erscheinen muss, um also solches erfahrbar zu werden. Dieses „Irgendwo“ nennt Gabriel „Sinnfeld“ und das Resultat seiner Überlegungen wird ihm also zur „Sinnfeld- Ontologie“. Aristoteles scheidet hier aus, weil Gabriel auch den „Geist“ als einen Sinn (wie Sehen, Hören, Riechen usw.) fasst, der verschiedene Sinnfelder erfassen, miteinander kombinieren, aber eben auch schaffen könne, was am Beispiel der Kunst erläutert wird. Gustav Aschenbach ist in diesem Sinne „fiktiv“, agiert aber in Venedig, einem erfahrbaren Ort, und halluziniert Dinge, die dem Leser als wahrheitsfähige Aussagen und also Tatsachen erscheinen können. Tatsachenbehauptungen sind nicht fiktiv, weil überprüfbar.
Sieht sich Gabriel deswegen in keiner philosophischen Tradition? Interessanterweise knüpft er an von der (populären) Philosophie fast vergessene Zeiträume an: Renaissance und Barock. Er verweist zutreffend und natürlich gegen die Postmoderne gerichtet darauf hin, dass in der Renaissance diverse „Perspektiven“ ursprünglich keine Meinungen, keine bloßen Sehweisen sind: „Die visuelle Perspektive ist eine objektive Struktur, deren mathematische Gesetze in der Renaissancemalerei ins Zentrum rücken und die dann im Barock zu einer radikalen Pluralisierung und zur Entdeckung moderner mathematischer Methoden geführt haben, mit dem mathematischen Unendlichen zu rechnen.“ (S. 238) Leibniz lässt grüßen. Dem wurden in der Monadologie angesichts der „unendlichen Vielfalt der einfachen Substanzen“ die unterschiedlichen Perspektiven notwendig zu „ebenso viele Universen“ (zit. n. ebd.), also zu unendlich vielen. Gabriel modernisiert diese Idee zu der prinzipiell unendlichen Zahl möglicher „Sinnfelder“, die einander allerdings – anders als Monaden – durchdringen und so neuen Sinn in neuen Kontexten generieren können. Gemeinsam ist beiden Ansätzen allerdings, dass sie die Grenzenlosigkeit der Unendlichkeit ernst nehmen, was Gabriel, hierin unbelasteter als Leibniz, zum Postulat der Unmöglichkeit der Existenz einer alles umfassenden „Welt“ zwingt, womit er die logische Unmöglichkeit der Existenz Gottes gleich mit behauptet. „Gott“ hätte uns erschaffen müssen, um ein Sinnfeld zu haben, in dem er erscheinen kann, weil er ohne seine Erscheinung in der Welt kein Sein, weil kein Sein-für-Andere hätte. Freilich könnte auch der Schöpfer- Gott nur eine „Welt“ im Sinne eines übergreifenden Rahmens, in dem die uns denkmöglichen und erfahrbaren Sinnfelder „Sinn“ ergeben, schaffen, bliebe aber selbst nur Teil einer aus unendlich vielen „Teilen“ bestehenden Sinnstruktur, deren „Herr“ er nie sein kann. Soviel zur „Allmacht Gottes.“
Davon ab ist das Religionskapitel das schwächste, weil m.E. nicht einzusehen ist, warum dem Sinnfeld „Theologie“, wenn schon nicht die Naturwissenschaften (die konsequenterweise nicht „Alles“ erkennen, also die Existenz Gottes nicht widerlegen können), dann doch die Philosophie Gabriels entgegengesetzt wird. Immerhin brauchen wir „Gott“ nicht, um „Sinn“ zu erfahren, denn wenn der Autor sich selbst ernst nimmt, stimmt, dass wir dem Sinn nicht entrinnen können: „Sinn ist sozusagen unser Schicksal, wobei dieses Schicksal nicht nur uns, die Menschen, sondern eben alles betrifft, was es gibt. Die Antwort nach dem Sinn des Lebens liegt im Sinn selbst. Dass es unendlich viel Sinn gibt, den wir erkennen und verändern können, ist schon der Sinn. Oder, um es auf den Punkt zu bringen: Der Sinn des Lebens ist das Leben.“
Damit hat mich Gabriel endgültig zum überzeugten Anhänger der Sinnfeld- Ontologie gemacht und nicht weniger als mein ganzes eh schon in Richtung auf einfache Wahrheiten verunsichertes „materialistisches“ Weltbild umgekrempelt und so auf die Füße gestellt, dass es wieder trägt! Kurz: Ein empfehlenswertes Buch, dem viele Leser/innen zu wünschen sind.
Dice la contraportada de este libro que el autor es el Marc Márquez de la filosofía. No soy yo mucho de espectáculos deportivos pero creo que este autor se parece más a lo que era Lorenzo: terriblemente arrogante, poco consciente de su juventud, y no tan bueno como él mismo se cree.
Tiene dos estrellas porque hay un par de ideas aprovechables, y porque es un libro que , obligado, podría recomendar a alguien que no hubiera leído NADA (pero absolutamente NADA) de ontología o epistemología. Es decir a alguien a quien ni siquiera le sonasen esas palabras pero quisiera empezar con la filosofía de lo existente (o no) por algún sitio. En cualquier otro caso , es decir, en el caso de que dicha persona hubiera leído ALGO (lo más mínimo) al respecto, le diría que no perdiese el tiempo (y, ¡ay!, el dinero).
Veamos.
Por mucho que diga el título, gancho marketiniano que lo acerca a la divulgación, en realidad este libro contiene la tesis filosófica ontológica de su autor -en tres o cuatro errabundos capítulos-, y luego otros varios en los que, en muy pocas páginas, trata de despachar la filosofía de la ciencia, la de la religión y la del arte , la estética , para darse la razón a sí mismo y a su tesis.
Ésta, su tesis, viene a decir que el mundo -entendido como la totalidad, la Naturaleza/Dios de Spinoza o la Idea de Hegel- no existe porque no hay un super-objeto totalizante, y mucho menos metafísico, que lo abarque todo. Y que precisamente ese "todo" que nosotros pensamos no es otra cosa que un conjunto infinito de lo que el llama "campos de sentido". Una especie de realidad fractal autocontenida. Como se ve, es una tesis que podría ser interesante si el autor tratara de explicarla de alguna manera (a ello dedica no más de seis páginas llenas de divagaciones de un total de doscientas) en lugar de arremeter contra todos los filósofos y corrientes filosóficas que no le dan la razón. Que vienen a ser casi todas, porque a la postre la que más critica, el constructivismo es a la que más se parece.
Para defender su tesis, y como gran, grandísimo, pecado de juventud como pensador, el libro viene a decir que Tales, Descartes, Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, y otros muchos -en realidad, todos- están equivocados. En la mayoría de los casos lo dice NOMINALMENTE, menos en el de los grandes idealistas puros, porque le debe dar vergüenza. Pero vamos, que están todos equivocados. Cada uno a su manera, eso sí. Y que las cosas que decían EN REALIDAD significaban otra cosa (incluso la contraria, lo de Derrida es para nota). Y que esa otra cosa que significaban le da la razón. Y los refuta en 2 páginas por cabeza, con suerte. Ya que la realidad es así porque lo dice el autor, y tampoco hace falta mucho más texto para refutarlos a todos, son cosas evidentes. Y que el mejor filósofo de la historia es Markus Gabriel. Firmado: Markus Gabriel.
Y ese mismo argumento, el "esto es así , básicamente porque yo lo digo" se repite inmisericordemente página tras página, haciendo gala de unas analogías pop (léase: banales, estúpidas, y sonrojantes -la de los pasajeros subiendo al tren, que repite en varios puntos, es terrible-, supongo que para darle tonillo divulgativo) , que suelen estar rematadas por "punch lines" que darían mucha risa en una clase de instituto, se abusa de razonamientos circulares y se usan axiomas encubiertos que se dan por "reales" pero que en el fondo esconden contradicciones y múltiples interpretaciones. La anti-filosofía, vamos.
Su razonamiento es absolutamente contradictorio (se separa del constructivismo y la ciencia para acabar usando sus mismas construcciones con otros nombres), y despacha en una sola frase argumentos a los que han dedicado carreras enteras otros filósofos (su argumentación sobre los hechos y el "ser" tiene a Heidegger llorando en su tumba, o su apartado de la estética ha convertido a Hartmann en un paria...).
Además según él, todo lo que él dice no tiene NADA que ver con otras teorías, él es un genio (no lo dice, pero es que es, TIENE QUE SER, evidente), aunque en el fondo toda su tesis sea una mezcla bastarda de constructivismo light pasado por una interpretación de la teoría analítica (a la que critica, comparándola con la religión, pero de la que se vale todo el tiempo) y aderezado con alguna dosis de metafísica-con-otro-nombre encubierta -su concepto de "nada", que es su deus ex machina final y justificador, se parece asombrosamente a otros conceptos metafísicos previos y que el propio autor critica (Kant, por ejemplo). Con todo ello no sé si es que el autor asume que su lector no sabe nada de nada, nunca ha leído filosofía, o es la primera vez que se acerca a estos temas.
De los "capítulos" de la religión, la ciencia y el arte no digo nada porque dan auténtica vergüenza ajena. Son breves y malos. Dan la sensación de ser artículos para publicaciones que el autor ha revisado, metiendo con calzador lo de los "campos de sentido", y que se leen con una mezcla de incredulidad y ofensa, por lo pueril , errático y poco trabajado de su contenido.
He terminado el libro -trabajosamente y sumamente encabronado- para ver si acababa ofreciéndome algo sólido, todo ese esfuerzo para encontrarme que TODA su tesis ontológica cabe, literalmente, en la última página, y para comprobar que, además, termina con una frase buenrollista new age más propia de Bucay.
Si leéis filosofía con soltura, ni con un palo lo toquéis.
Gabriel constructs scarecrows of his imagined opponents, Foucault in particular, which he then merrily guns down. Problem is, Foucault et al. never have argued that simplistic and trivial as Gabriel insinuates. This is bad style - philosphically as well as intellectually. For me this obliterated some of the more clever arguments and intellectual games in the book.
Auf dem Umschlag steht: "...ein großartige Gedankenübung!" Genau das ist es. Herr Gabriel erklärt, warum es die Welt nicht gibt, aber warum es trotzdem alles andere gibt. Neue Erkenntnisse hat mir die Lektüre nicht verschafft, aber immerhin wurde ich gut unterhalten und der Autor scheint ein sehr sympathischer Mensch mit gutem Filmgeschmack zu sein.
What is perhaps for me most notable about Markus Gabriel’s WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST is that I came almost completely around to its general line of argumentation as well as the efficacy of its reasoning despite having spent much time during my reading of the first quarter of the book (or thereabouts) nearly convinced that I absolutely hated it. There were a couple of principal reason for this disfavour in the early going. These reasons were, I believe, legitimate. Let’s take a moment to consider a passage of Gabriel’s from fairly early in the introduction. We might call this passage something akin to a thesis statement. “There are planets, my dreams, evolution, the toilet flush, hair loss, hopes, elementary particles, and even unicorns on the far side of the moon, to mention only a few examples. The principle that the world does not exist entails that everything else exists. For this reason, I can already announce that I will claim, as my first principle, that everything exists except one thing: the world.” The crux of the point seems worthy. I would imagine it a proposition for which a convincing case might well be made. But the delivery is (or at least was) slightly irksome to me. It’s an issue of rhetoric. Of course, the invocation of “unicorns on the far side of the moon” has given the folks at Polity, the publisher of this English translation of the book, the inspiration for their quite charming cover. I like the cover. I liked the cover, and I liked the idea that an exhaustive case can be made that literally anything that can be conceived of exists, the world being the only exception; these are two of the reasons I bought the book. But this business with unicorns on the far side of the moon (later they will be presented again, augmented with the addition of police uniforms) is characteristic of a kind of queasily cutesy approach to metaphor, simile, and extrapolation by/of example. I am not going to overburden you with examples from the text. Let me just include one more, this one from the first chapter, “What is this Actually: the World?” Here we find another analogous bit of silly sophistry, Gabriel very much performing the imagining of a hypothetical “mereological sum of all properties” consisting of “my left hand, Angela Merkel’s favorite book and the most expensive Currywurst south of Frankfurt, plus everything else.” Too much of this stuff gets annoying fast. You start to imagine that some artificial intelligence prototype or alien from another dimension has come to you believing it can convince you it is human by wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt. Perhaps one might also recall unconvincingly undercover Steve Buscemi’s “How do you do, fellow kids?” from the television comedy series 30 ROCK. Of course, I am aware that my putting matters thusly brings me dangerously close to practicing the exact same rhetorical method I am critiquing. Perhaps I find it all the more vexing for being contagious. Markus Gabriel is not the only contemporary philosopher, theorist, or critic who utilizes this particular variety of device. I have noted, for example, its regular utilization in the writings of Terry Eagleton, and this has got to be considered one of the reasons that I have essentially decided that I am not going to be reading more Terry Eagleton. It would seem very likely that part of why I grew increasingly fond of WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST is that Gabriel uses this particular sort of device less frequently in the later, more rewarding sections of the book. Another thing I objected to in the early sections of WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST was the author’s general tendency toward trite expedience, much of this involving what I perceived to be fatuous strawman arguments, unacceptable reductions, and suppositions that certain problems have been reconciled without the author believing he has to demonstrate that this is satisfactorily the case. Gabriel asserts that postmodernism was/is a form of constructivism, in the sense that postmodern theory would appear fundamentally conditioned by the precept “that there are absolutely no facts in themselves and that we construct all facts through our multifaceted forms of discourse and scientific methods.” He does not make the case that there is in fact an overarching body of postmodern theory and he fails to address it specifically in any discernibly existing context. This is all to common today, and we might tend to associate such dismissive claims with a certain odious psychology professor with a marked online presence. If anybody does claim what Gabriel would have so-called postmodernists claiming, and if they do so without qualification, then I would agree that they should be called to task for doing so. Gabriel does not properly call anybody in particular to task. I do not see the postulate that Gabriel sees operative in postmodern theory as a central presupposition in the works of poststructuralist theorists like Derrida and Foucault. In fact, when Gabriel goes on to say that scientific method is legitimate for establishing truths though compromised when using the truths gleaned from the practice of method to serve an overarching worldview (or world-picture), I would be inclined to suggest that he finds himself extremely close to Foucault. There are other examples of dubious expediences of argumentation. When Gabriel makes a distinction between ontology (related to being) and metaphysics (related to the true hidden nature of the world), I don’t think he does so in good faith. Later, Gabriel will call Hegel the ultimate early-modern metaphysician on account of the concept of the “absolute idea.” There are many who would argue, and with good reason, that the “absolute idea” can be situated within the domain of ontology. (Not that I am a fan of the concept of the “absolute idea.") Though the book did grow on me, and though these various examples of expedience do lead to critical insights of considerable worth, there is another argument central to WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST that I am not satisfied with, even as it reemerges in the final pages. Namely: Gabriel does not believe that everything is connected. In the introduction, he asks us to consider the worlds (plural) within worlds (again, plural) within even just a small restaurant where one may happen to dine on a given night. “Many things are connected with many other things, but it is false (in the strictest sense, actually impossible!) that everything is connected.” This is an adequate assessment if we mean that things are not all comprehensively connected within a single ‘field of sense,’ which is to say within a single comprehensive world-picture, but Gabriel is missing something crucial. He believes that—and he states this directly—the infinite is infinite, and there are also infinite perspectives on the infinite, which does not mean that all such perspectives are equally good or equally useful. Perspectives are constantly contested, and they are regularly altered or modified. Right. But with infinite fields of sense (within the context of the infinite) would there not be infinite ways of infinitely connecting elements of previously unrelated fields of sense within new fields of sense? That would be my contention. I want to believe that everything is connected. To do that, I do not believe I need a comprehensive and closed-off world-picture. Gabriel presents his project as a new or emergent philosophical system, but hardly as a complete break with precedent. He usefully borrows from many distinct domains. He calls this project “new realism,” and explains that it was born over the course of a lunch with Maurizio Ferraris in the summer of 2001. New realism arrives in the aftermath of postmodernity, a phase that had sought to dispel the dominance of metaphysical illusions. Okay. Maybe provisionally sort of okay. It was metaphysics that gave us the world in the first place. Gabriel wants to be done with the world, on account of its not existing, but he also wants truth and sense and things in themselves. (So, we might add, did folks like Gilles Deleuze.) New realism is founded upon the conviction that not only are “human existence and knowledge not a collective hallucination,” but that “it is simply not the case that we are always or almost always mistaken." This does not mean that we are never mistaken, rather that mistakes can be called mistakes, proven to be such and argued about, even if they remain actual true existing things called mistakes (as true as unicorns we might imagine existing on the far side of the moon). The constructivist approach, which achieves its first triumphant modern moment with Kant rather than the so-called postmodernist horde, only permits things to exist as apperceptive representations, but new realism, something like a complementarity rather than a constructivist model, holds that “thoughts about facts exist with the same right as the facts at which our thought are directed.” Gabriel doesn’t want the constructivism of Kant, the monism of Spinoza (what with the world not existing), or, worst of all, the dualism of Descartes. He is a little more available to the pluralism of Leibniz’s monodology. If there were in fact a world, which there isn’t, it would have to be the living and real manifestation of Heidegger’s concept of “the domain of all domains.” Gabriel agrees that this is what the world would have to be, but as there is no such supra-domain (or super-object), the world does not and cannot exist, primarily because in cannot be found inside its domain what with nobody having access to an additional domain from which to appraise the world. The world is not there because it cannot be found in the world. We can have something like a picture of the infinite, and indeed we need the infinite because the infinite is our home, even if we are ourselves flung into a condition of existential finitude. We can formulate the infinite, but what we cannot formulate is our container, on account of there being no such container. There are infinite domains and these domains exist within various fields of sense. Here we see how Gabriel has much in common with phenomenologists and hermeneutists. He will at one point praise Hans-Georg Gadamer and the supposition that there can be truth independent of exacting method, because different truths have different fields of sense. If the beings who sense exist in a condition of plurality, this means that there are any number of provisional worldviews, and that sentient beings will operate very much in accordance with something like their own independent horizons of interpretation, which are themselves fields of sense. Now, I have already made passing reference the the odious psychology professor who hates Neo-Marxist Postmodern Relativists, so let’s note something very interesting here. Yes, Gabriel is dismissive of any kind of theory that suggests that truths of any kind are purely human constructions. He also completely rejects the idea that all truths are equally valid (or valid to the same extent and in the same manner), such that all truth is relative. However, I cannot think of fields of sense without thinking of Einstein and the theory of relativity, precisely because of the fact that any given field of sense requires the appearance of the domain or the field, which Einstein would call its frame of reference. The frame allows for the intelligibility of, and/or for legitimately meaningful calculations germane to the correlation of elements within the field, domain, or frame. It is interesting to me that though Gabriel does occasionally mention Einstein he never does make mention of this particular correspondence. For Gabriel, truths exists relationally between objects or things within a field of sense and the thing being in possession of spirit and thereby capable of sense. Truth does not exist in the brain or body of the being of sense. This means that the field of sense is not implemented by the being of sense. Rather, it appears or presents itself to sense within a field of sense. Nevertheless, the appearance of the field of sense is a grounding operation, a provisional worlding. The word ‘world’ can present itself here in its provisional sense, but within the context of a Leibnitz-like pluralism rather than a Spinozist infinite substance-type monism (which is implicitly metaphysical from Gabriel’s standpoint, substance here becoming super-object). Anyway, as established, as Gabriel proceeds along, I am finding myself more and more taken with his reasoning. At a certain point I am beginning to realize that, having earlier believed I might all but hate it, I maybe kind of love WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST. This produces a curious and altogether agreeable eventuation. Though I had previously found his rhetorical expediences and strawman arguments dubious at best, the best stuff in the whole book, most of it consigned to the fifth chapter, “The Meaning of Religion,” involves, in a manner already being set up late in the fourth chapter, a taking to task of zealous scientist atheists the likes of Richard Dawkins et al. Now, I am not a religious person, nor do I believe in an actual Heavenly Father situated up above who has a special interests in the beings and things he created. Still, I am totally on board with Gabriel here. I couldn’t agree more. Having already agreed that if we imagine unicorns on the far side of the moon then they exist, I am also a person who has, in the past, when asked how a reasonable person can believe in God (or gods), countered with the question as to how a reasonable person can pose a question about how a thing he, she, or what-have-you doesn’t believe exists, but which has just been mentioned, exists? God exists, gods exist, but in a particular field of sense, and it is the historical persistence of these fields of sense that point to the centrality of the function God performs for beings of sense flung randomly into circumscribed existence within the context of an infinite the full extent of which cannot be actively experienced by any living being. “For no scientific investigation will ever be able to free us from having to renegotiate the rules by which we live in order, hopefully, to place them on a more rational foundation.” Physics simply cannot replace the function God is called to perform in a separate field of sense, and “we should not identify the meaning of religion with a set of superstitious beliefs, as this will make us blind to the very need articulated in religion to the present day.” I have always know that God exists because God is a concept people discuss, the concept serving a function. I have also had a tendency to to tell people that I think "the world” is something we impose on the phenomena we encounter. Gabriel has convinced me that what I ought to say is “a world” rather than “the world" (any world being one of infinitely many) and that “we impose” is probably badly put.
Basura màxima. Arguments poc sòlids i no conclusius, estructura incoherent, exemples redundants i un derrotxe d'ego que no hi ha qui ho aguanti. Es nota q ho va escriure en un viatge de tren (com bé diu). Està bé llegir merda per adonar-te que tens criteri.👍🏻
I read this right after Ferraris, and my idea is that these two books are best understood when read together. Though part of the same movement, Ferraris and Gabriel have their own means of expression which feed off different traditions and this difference makes reading the two together extremely interesting. While Ferraris, as an Italian, is much more reliant on politics and history, Gabriel, as a German, is much more sympathetic towards idealism, so much so that his version of New Realism is a reconstruction of Shelling's Essay on Freedom. Moreover, Gabriel manages to combine the analytical and the continental schools or reconstruct this distinction, with such ease and clarity that it is impossible not to be dazzled by his precision and rigor as a thinker. He is also very funny for a German.
As for the significance of the book, it was a best-seller in Germany and one can read it quite separately from the history of philosophy as some sort of mental gymnastique - and it is very good in that. It is a book that takes you seriously and seriously forces you to think. So those who don't know about the debates concerning post-structuralism, who simply want an accessible book of philosophy can too enjoy this. On the other hand, there is the context in which the book basically reads like a polemic against various trends of 20th-century philosophy. In my mind, it is what makes this a great book: Gabriel manages with the right vocabulary and precision to make this a very original project that like other great works of philosophy can be a popular book while engaging with the history of philosophy and marking a moment in it.
To exist is to appear in a field of sense, or environment, and the world is the field of sense of all fields of sense. For this, it cannot exist for the world, as such, does not appear in a field of sense. This is Gabriel's Schellingian idea that freedom is groundless. Now, the non-existence of the world (which is an implicit and simultaneous attack on the concept of the Absolute and the Deleuzian body without organs) has philosophical consequences, as well as political ones. The most significant I think is that if the world does not exist, how can we have worldviews? This idea is dynamite, and Gabriel plays it very carefully, so as to not fall into the post-structuralist trap that in the absence of the absolute there are only interpretations. Unlike post-structuralists, he ends up endorsing a scientific realism while also arguing against scientism, which makes him close to a modified Habermasian - the perfect counterpart to Ferraris' modified Derrida if you will. However, I'm not sure if I found this part regarding worldviews fully satisfying, but I'm gonna read Fields of Sense after this, and hope there will be clarifications on the matter.
5/5⭐️ “Warum es die Welt nicht gibt“ de Markus Gabriel (î.t. “De ce lumea nu există”)
Partea bună este că aceasta este destul de bine vândută și în traducerea în engleză (poate e mai accesibilă pentru unii în această variantă). Partea și mai bună este că dați de o carte de gândire, care de fapt devine un întreg complex de exerciții de gândire, iar Markus Gabriel este priceput în a oferi suporturi vizuale (multitudine de exemple) pentru a vă ușura sarcina. El dezvoltă ceea ce inițial pare absurd (teza potrivit căreia lumea nu există) și abordează acest subiect din mai multe perspective, iar la final lucrurile “se descălcesc”. Mi-a plăcut formularea accesibilă, iar cu asta vreau să spun capacitatea de a reda idei complicate într-un limbaj simplu. Respectiv, atât cei cu licență în filosofie, cât și cei fără o pot savura.
Vă las o singură secvență pe care am reușit în grabă s-o traduc, dar vă asigur că există și alte pasaje la fel de (sau chiar mai) pline de sens, pe care cu drag ți le notezi: “Lumea nu este o reprezentare a unui obiect. Noi nu privim dinafara lumii, pentru a se pune întrebarea, dacă imaginea noastră asupra lumii este una adecvată. Aceasta ar fi ca și cum am încerca să facem o poză cu un aparat foto, incluzând și acel aparat. Dacă camera de fotografiat s-ar fotografia pe sine însăși oricum nu va obține o imagine identică, pentru că ar fi în oglindă. Deci orice imagine proprie asupra lumii rămâne a fi doar o imagine a noastră, care cel puțin ar fi o mică părticică din câte este compusă lumea.”
Incoherent in parts, expresses uniformed views about the role/function of science, airs embarrassing (somewhat personal) judgements about popular scientists, uses vagaries to leave the door open to theism. Also fails to define his own work beyond some of boorish tropes of postmodern philosophy - something the author explicitly sets out to do. One star for the author's core thinking exercise (roughly chapters 2 and 3), which is a dense but interesting read, albeit practically useless.
Long version:
- Incoherent insofar as the author begins by defining the relevant nomenclature, then moves onto his core thinking exercise, and then attempts to relate this thinking exercise to the third part of the book, which loosely covers areas concerning religion, meaning, the role of god, and art. Sadly, those topics aren't dealt with in any great detail, and the third part of the book spends more time talking up the fallibility of science rather than how any of the author's ideas in the second part were necessary to understand before we can approach his (ambitious, to say the least) conclusions in the third part. I'd argue the entire third act of the book reads like an opinion piece in low-circulation university pamphlet. The link between the two sections is far too tenuous and the final chapters descend into anecdotes about Breaking Bad, Tom Cruise and Curb Your Enthusiasm.
- Uninformed insofar as the attacks (and be in no doubt, they are attacks) on scientific method and "worldview" are entirely ignorant of the malleability and evolution of science itself. That the author argues for the evolution of philosophy in a similar vein is ahistorical and bigoted. Science progresses by replacing itself with new understanding. Philosophy has achieved no similar feat. It has changed and evolved, but to claim it has made "progress" akin to science is a depressing reflection of the author's views on what represents progress itself. His proclamations are classically postmodern in that they induce the reader to - at times - physically cringe in embarrassment.
- Thus, embarrassing in parts. Not all parts. As explained above, the author's thought experiment is stimulating. But his conclusions regarding atheism and what he calls the "fetishistic character of the scientific worldview" made it seem like I was reading a Peter Hitchens column in the Daily Mail. Apparently science doesn't engage with the viewpoint of the self. Governments can't be explained by the laws of nature. Favourite quote: "These theory mutants are just monsters of the scientific imagination". Those of us who think religion to be nothing more than superstition are pathological. The author continues to dig himself into a planet-sized hole by stating that atheism is "no different to religious intolerance" (no, your eyes aren't fooling you), and that "simple-minded critics of religion have the erroneous impression that religion involves the belief in an extra-terrestrial superpower". And what exactly should they believe "God" is, Markus? What have atheists misunderstood? Wait, I think I understand...
... he's religious. Finally, we arrive at a key insight: the author is religious. It took 158 pages to get there, but we finally have it. The author denigrates Hawking, Dawkins and Dennett from a position of pre-existing religious belief, and then seizes upon the vagaries of his quasi-postmodern discussion to introduce God via the back door. No wonder I felt like like I reading a conservative pamphlet long before his (almost) outright confession on page 158.
If this all leaves you feeling a little bit confused, you're not alone. As mentioned above, the third part of the book is entirely unnecessary and makes the overall book incoherent when read as a single piece of work. The vitriolic language - combined with almost child-like reproduction of anecdotes - only 'stacks up' when the author finally (indirectly) reveals his religious faith. I only wish he'd declared it on page 1. Then again, that would mean my reproduction of his error: beginning with a conclusion and letting it affect the process therafter. Thus, there's something reassuringly ironic about my coming to the conclusion that this is a very flawed work long before learning of that fact. A rather 'scientific' way of drawing conclusions, if I may say so.
No es un libro de divulgación filosófica, pero tampoco diría que alcance el nivel de filosofía académica. Por ello, es una obra que puede no satisfacer a muchas personas por exceso o por defecto.
Por mi parte, me acerqué a Markus Gabriel por curiosidad de leer a un filósofo joven que propone su propio sistema filosófico, a pesar de que he oído críticas de que toma muchas ideas ya trilladas de la historia de la filosofía.
La lectura es bastante sencilla; sin embargo, si no cuentas con una buena memoria, una lectura comprensiva excelente o careces de experiencia en filosofía, tendrás que volver atrás a releer algunas de las definiciones de conceptos.
Definitivamente no es el tipo de libro que las editoriales intentan venderte. A menos que no hayas leído absolutamente nada de filosofía, esta obra no te aportará gran cosa.
Eine neuer Blick auf die Welt, die es als ein Allesumfassendes nicht gibt und genau das eröffnet unzählige neue Perspektiven, von denen jede seine Wahrheit in seinem Gegenstandbereich hat. Ein erfrischender Standpunkt gegen, den, von den meisten längst verinnerlichten, Wissenschaftsdogmatismus. Vor allem in der Ausprägung des Reduktionismus (wir sind nur Elementarteilchen im Universum). Wer dies glaubt, der hat seine Seele verkauft und sich selbst zur Fleischmaschine gemacht. Auch wenn ich nicht immer in allen Punkten folgen konnte, Markus Gabriel wird hoffentlich weiterhin die längst nötigen Wellen im selbst-kasteienden Mainstream-Glauben schlagen.
1. Estoy entrando en modo supervivencia así que necesito algo menos especulativo y más práctico que me prepare espiritualmente para la guerra que vendrá. Recordaré estas ideas como una de las últimas cosas interesantes que descubrí antes de que se acabara el mundo.
2. Si el mundo no existe entonces qué se acaba cuando se acaba el mundo?
3. Tiene un tono como de profe buena onda que me costó pasar un par de veces.
Philosophie ist kompliziert aber das Buch ist so verständlich geschrieben, dass es etwas weniger kompliziert ist. Fantastische Erläuterungen und ein top Einsteigerbuch für jeden der anfangen will Philosophische Bücher zu lesen und noch nie keinen Akademischen Text gelesen hat.
When philosophers talk about the world, they don't refer to Earth. They usually mean the whole of existence, everything that can be experienced, material or immaterial.
Philosophy, the love of wisdom, has a long history of studying fundamental questions such as "What can we know about the world?" or "Can the world be known as it is?" Over the millennia, many branches have appeared; metaphysics (study of reality), ethics (study of morality), natural philosophy (astronomy, medicine, physics), etc.
During the Age of Enlightenment, natural philosophy became science and took on its own life. The scientific method has since become the de facto standard of objective truth. Science has replaced philosophy and is the only serious pursuit when it comes to knowing about the world, or so many scientists have disdainfully declared—and they have science's tremendous instrumental success to back their claim.
But is that really so? What if the world is bigger than what science can fathom? What if it is so vast that it doesn't exist?
Why the World Does Not Exist, Markus Gabriel Markus Gabriel is a philosopher and author and holds the Chair for Epistemology (theory of knowledge) at the University of Bonn. He is one of the new "rockstars" of philosophy if that's even a thing.
Calling himself a new realist, he has been vocal about his belief that science doesn't have a monopoly on truth. "Physics" he says, "is blind to everything that it does not investigate." The universe studied by "hard" sciences is just one of many aspects of reality. Sherlock Holmes may be a fictive character, but my thoughts about him are real. They are part of reality. But just from a different domain of reality.
So why does the world not exist? Well, it is a bit of a philosophical stunt.
Fields of sense are domains in which something appears in a certain way. For example, there is a field of sense of empirically observable physical objects. Physics has access to this field. But there is also a field of sense of conscious experiences. Physics doesn't seem to have access to that one.
Gabriel defines existence as the circumstance that something appears in a field of sense. For a pen to physically exist, it has to appear in the field of sense of empirically observable physical objects. Existence, however, is not a property of the object appearing. It is a property of the field of sense itself, the property that the existing object appears in it.
Now, if we state that the world is the entirety of reality, we may define it as the domain of all domains. As such, my thoughts about Sherlock Holmes are part of the world because there exists a domain—the domain of conscious experiences—in which my thoughts appear.
But for the world itself to exist, there would need to be a field of sense in which it appears. If there were such a field, it would already be included in the set of all domains and therefore contained within the world (the domain of all domains). We end up with a self-embedding infinite regress.
world = {field, world} => world = {field, {field, world}} => ... => world = {field, {field, {field, ....}}, world}
Because of the infinite regress, there cannot be a field of sense that includes the domain of all domains, and therefore, the world does not exist. Q.E.D.
As I said, a bit of a stunt. But that's not really what this book is about.
It is about our relationship with the truth. It warns us against the tyranny of objectivity and the arrogance of science in its belief that it has a monopoly on epistemic and ontological truths. The world is much bigger than the universe. And that's a good thing. Our existences cannot and shouldn't be reduced to lucky circumstances of particles randomly shattered as a result of entropy.
Philosophy is far from being obsolete, and no, science hasn't replaced it. Not even close. Pondering the difficult questions about our human nature and the meaning of our lives is as relevant as it has always been. And there is more to our relationship with our own nature than reducible principles. Our world is not reducible because such a world does not exist.
Un 4 generoso. Como exponente del "nuevo realismo", la piedra no llega al objetivo. El realismo epistemológico, conocido en el barrio, como "lo único verdadero es la realidad física" presenta una serie de problemas filosóficos bien para los tipos que se torturan buscandole la quinta pata al gato, también conocido como filósofos. El nuevo realismo no intenta resolver estos problemas. Al contrario, intenta recuperar el valor de las humanidades en su capacidad de hacer afirmaciones sobre lo real, lo que existe, sin caer en el reduccionismo físicista o del materialismo del tío Raúl.
¿Cómo? Asociar la existencia a una propiedad que tienen las cosas dentro de un campo de sentido. Superman no existe en el sentido estricto en que el materialismo esceptico lo entiende. No hay un tipo de Kripton volando por ahí. Pero no se puede negar que en los comics de DC, existe Superman, es más existen varios. Y tampoco podemos negar que es posible hacer afirmaciones de veritativas: "Superman es de Krypton". Si entendemos cada campo de sentido como un plano conceptual propio estamos en libertad de discutir objetivamente sobre Superman.
El caso es que este libro de Markus tiene la intención de divulgar esta corriente filosófica al tiempo que muestra alguna de las debilidades de otras posturas epistemológicas comunes pero lo hace tan al pasar que te deja con más dudas que certezas. O le seguís la corriente y le das para adelante, o comenzas a perder la fe en el éxito de la empresa.
Por otro lado, el libro deja un poco atras el campo del conocimiento, el lenguaje y la lógica para meterse en un capítulo en el de la religión y en otro en el arte. Dos cuestiones que son caras a la filosofía y especialmente espinosa para el realismo. El tratamiento que hace, especialmente de la cuestión religiosa, me parece una bosta. La religión vendría hacer una visión posible de lo infinito o de la infinidad, y no solo eso, sino necesaria y hasta necesaria la multiplicidad de las mismas.
El problema no es la tesis. El problema es que la argumentación debería tomar más que un capítulo y muchas afirmaciones flotan en el aire. Lo mismo ocurre con la cuestión del arte aunque acá la teoría de los campos de sentido parece más provechosa.
Y el epilogo parece un agregado para cumplir el mínimo de páginas acordado con la editorial. Un ensayo que hubiese encajado sin problemas en un blog pero que se articula pobremente con el tema del libro.
Three stars because the author is gifted when it comes to writing and I adore the topic, thinking about the fundamental ontology of the world. However, in my humble opinion, the book and the reasoning reveals not only fundamental ontology but also fundamental weaknesses. I think the author lacks, matching his academic background, knowledge about (or appreciation for, I do not know) the natural sciences e.g. general relativity, quantum physics but also system theory and complexity science. All these sciences are discovering and discussing elementary patterns in the world and contribute a lot to a profound understanding of natural philosophy including constructivism and realism. Unfortunately these perspectives are completely missing here.
How can you claim to be a realist and at the same time say that «the world does not exist»? This can be done if, in a catchy act of sophistry, you say that, actually, what you meant by «world», was not the real world we can touch and see, but the collections of mental representations we, humans, have of it. But still, if I’m not wrong, which would be also strange, as per Markus’ claim that the list of represented objects and perspectives humans can create is infinite, this hardly equates to non-existence! All Markus is saying is that, even if we put them all together, we don’t have a complete human representation of the world. Old news is so exciting.
Estoy cada día más cercano a convertirme al nuevo realismo. También, se dedica casi todo el libro a hablar mierda de Heidegger, y pegarle a un nazi siempre es bueno. En este caso, la tesis central es que no podemos hablar de la existencia de un concepto de mundo, aka un objeto que abarque todos los objetos, por así decirlo. Es más complicado que eso, pero es una tesis interesante, con consecuencias epistemológicas, morales, etc, que son explicadas en un lenguaje bastante simple (al menos hasta los capítulos finales, donde el análisis se basa en críticas a otros autores y se complica un poco).
Meer filosofen zouden moeten schrijven als Gabriel: leesbaar, humoristisch, soms persoonlijk, startend in het concrete leven (keuken, trein) en gebruikmakend van (moderne) kunst en literatuur op momenten dat het te abstract begint te worden.
Op 23 juni 2011, rond half twee ’s middags, start volgens G. het nieuwe realisme, tijdens een lunch van de auteur. Met dit nieuwe realisme gaat hij het gevecht aan met zo’n beetje alle grote monistische en dualistische filosofieën. Met het dualisme is hij snel klaar: absurd (waarom twee substanties en niet tweeëntwintig?; p. 59). De grootste monistische tegenstanders zijn voor G. het natuurwetenschappelijke terugbrengen van de wereld tot de materiële werkelijkheid én het absolute idealisme à la Hegel. ‘Gedachten over de wereld ‘als geheel’ hebben geen waarheidswaarde, want er is geen object waarop ze betrekking hebben.’ (81) G. verzet zich tegen een monistische ‘supergedachte’, een theorie die alles tegelijk beschrijft. De wereld – het zinveld alles zinvelden – existeert namelijk niet. Er kan niet zoiets bestaan als ‘alles tegelijk’. (87)
Als alternatief voor monisme en dualisme blaast G. het stof van Leibnizs rationele pluralisme: er bestaan nu eenmaal vele substanties. G. transformeert dat tot de stelling dat er oneindig veel substanties bestaan. Deze moeten niet absoluut, maar relatief onderscheiden worden (65). Anders gezegd: er bestaan oneindig veel werelden die elkaar deels overlappen en dé wereld bestaat niet. In een tweede front positioneert de auteur zijn nieuwe realisme t.o.v. het nominalisme (114-6), de filosofie van de mentale representaties (117-8) en het (hermeneutisch) constructivisme (121-8). Zijn belangrijkste kritiek is de eindeloze regressie in ‘concurrerende’ filosofieën. Dit droste-effect laat geen laatste supergedachte toe én laat representaties/constructies in het luchtledige hangen. De aanname die G. doet is dat het denken en representeren lineair geordend zijn. Echter, vanuit de mystiek, maar ook vanuit de wiskunde (Gödel) en de theoretische computerkunde (‘vreemde lussen’; Douglas Hofstadter) is het denkbaar dat hogere hiërarchie-elementen terugvouwen in de lagere. G. raakt aan deze zelfverwijzing met zijn beschrijving van de fractale geometrie (84-5) en citeert zelfs een strofe uit een gedicht van Rainer M. Rilke waar ‘de wereld als het ware oneindig vaak in zichzelf belichaamd is’ (84), maar doet deze denkrichting snel van de hand door ze te karakteriseren als ‘poëtische slimmigheden waar we ons gelukkig niet mee bezig hoeven te houden.’ (85). G.s nieuwe realisme is dus niet per se overtuigend. Erg is het niet.
* Lo que el autor cuestiona en este libro es la idea de que el mundo existe como un todo, como una totalidad cerrada y abarcable.
Su tesis se basa en tres postulados:
1. La realidad está compuesta por múltiples "campos de sentido". 2. No hay una totalidad que los unifique a todos en un solo "mundo" objetivo y completo. 3. Lo que no existe es “el mundo” como totalidad absoluta. Solo existen múltiples realidades parciales dentro de campos de sentido.
En cuanto a la religión y a su relación con estos postulados, se puede entender que la inabarcabilidad de la realidad, la imposibilidad de acceder a “el mundo” como totalidad, como propone Gabriel, puede verse justamente como una de las principales razones por las que los seres humanos han buscado sentido en lo religioso.
1. Angustia ontológica Frente a una realidad fragmentada, múltiple, muchas veces contradictoria, los humanos se enfrentan a una angustia ontológica: ¿Qué une todo esto? ¿Por qué estoy aquí? ¿Qué sentido tiene la vida, el sufrimiento, la muerte? Esta angustia nace precisamente de no poder comprender el todo, de no poder “ver el mapa completo" (el límite de la consciencia).
2. La religión como estructura de sentido que lo abarca todo Las religiones históricamente han ofrecido una narrativa totalizante: un origen común, una finalidad, un propósito, una moral universal.
3. El misterio y lo sagrado como respuesta al límite Como no podemos conocer o controlar la totalidad, muchas religiones postulan lo sagrado, lo trascendente, lo inabarcable pero significativo. Lo que en Gabriel sería un vacío ontológico, en la religión se vuelve la presencia de un absoluto, aunque no totalmente comprensible.
Gabriel no niega esta necesidad que tenemos de encontrar sentido, él simplemente afirma que ninguna narrativa (religiosa o secular) puede agotar el sentido de la realidad. No porque esté mal intentarlo, sino porque la realidad es estructuralmente abierta. En ese sentido, sería más afín a una espiritualidad no dogmática, o a una filosofía que reconoce el misterio sin clausurarlo.
De esa concepción no totalitaria o abarcan te del mundo deja una reflexión ética muy poderosa:
"... Renunciar a las búsqueda de una estructura fundamental omniabarcante y, en lugar de ello, intentar conjuntamente entender mejor, sin prejuicios y con mayor creatividad, las muchas estructuras presentes para que podamos juzgar mejor qué debe permanecer y qué debemos cambiar. Pues solo porque exista todo, no significa que todo sea bueno. Todos nos encontramos en una expedición gigantesca: llegados desde ningún lugar avanzamos juntos hacia la infinitud."
Ich hatte hohe Erwartungen an das Buch, welche anfangs sogar teilweise erfüllt wurden. Markus Gabriel hat ein grosses Wissen in erkenntnistheoretischen Fragen und stellt interessante Überlegungen an. Seine Sinnfeldtheorie ist an sich ein interessantes Gedankenexperiment und ist mehrheitlich konzis. Die unprätentiöse und klare Sprache sind ein grosses Plus.
Markus Gabriel muss sich meiner Meinung nach aber eine der grössere Sünden entgegenhalten lassen. Ich begann früh zu befürchten, was die Sinnfeldtheorie bezweckt. Falls der Zweck der Theorie neue Perspektiven und neue Erkenntnisse ermöglicht hätte, wäre ich begeistert gewesen. Insgesamt erscheint die ganze Theorie aber auf eine Begriffsverschiebung angelegt zu sein, die gerade gewisse Schlussfolgerungen ermöglichen soll. So führen seine Begriffsdefinitionen von Existenz und Welt zu den Schlüssen, dass die Welt nicht existiert, ansonsten aber alles. Gleichzeitig ist aber dieser Existenzbegriff wenig hilfreich und hätte leicht vermieden werden können. Markus Gabriel macht sich an einer Stelle sogar selber über Philosophen lustig, welche durch Wortakrobatik zu absurden Schlussfolgerungen gelangen: Genau dieses Vergehen begeht er aber selber. Noch absurder wird es, wenn Markus Gabriel Religion definiert: Er kommt zum Schluss, dass die Naturwissenschaft Religion ist, Religionen (so wie sie im üblichen Sprachgebrauch bestimmt werden) aber keine Religionen sind.
Immerhin bleibt Markus Gabriel in den ersten erkenntnisphilosophischen Kapiteln präzis und argumentiert stark. Diese Qualität nimmt dann aber rapide ab. Es fängt schon damit an, dass hier eindeutig der Pluralismus im Gegensatz zu Monismus vertreten wird, Markus Gabriel diesen Vorzug aber nur schwach begründet. Am meisten stört mich aber, wie verschiedene Positionen, insbesondere von "Neoatheisten" komplett falsch dargestellt werden und wie unvollständig beispielsweise den Existentialisten eine Stimme gegeben wird. Offensichtlich erlaubt aber nur Kierkegaard durch ein Hintertürchen das Konzept vom "Geist" einzuführen.
Insgesamt schätze ich Gabriels Fähigkeiten, uns philosophische Theorien zu erklären, viel zu hoch ein, als dass ich mich mit dem Erkenntnisgewinn dieses Buches zufrieden geben könnte.
Markus Gabriel's "Why the World Doesn't Exist" is like a mind-bending adventure through the rabbit hole of reality. If you're up for a deep dive into existential questions that'll make you rethink everything, this book is your guide to a philosophical roller-coaster.
Gabriel doesn't just dip his toes into the big questions—he cannonballs right in: What does it mean for something to really exist? Can we trust our perceptions to tell us what's real? These aren't just abstract musings for Gabriel; he tackles them with a mix of curiosity and intellectual rigor that keeps you hooked.
What makes this book so intriguing is Gabriel's knack for blending profound ideas with a laid-back, conversational style. He takes complex theories and breaks them down in ways that make you go, "Ah, I never thought of it that way!" Whether he's dissecting Kant's philosophy or riffing on the latest theories in physics, he makes deep thoughts feel like a lively conversation over coffee.
Gabriel also throws in everyday examples and pop culture references to illustrate his points. From sci-fi movies to quantum mechanics, he shows how our understanding of reality is shaped by more than just textbooks—it's part of how we navigate the world around us.
But beware: this isn't light reading. Gabriel dives deep into philosophy's deep end, and you might find yourself stopping to wrap your head around his arguments or pondering the implications of what he's saying. It's all part of the journey of grappling with the mysteries of existence.
"Why the World Doesn't Exist" isn't just a book—it's a playful challenge to rethink what you know about reality and how we come to know it. Whether you're a philosophy buff or just someone curious about life's big questions, Gabriel's fresh perspective will leave you pondering long after you've closed the book.