Having recently returned from a six-month sabbatical leave, during which Austin
took over for me as Kowloon Branch Organiser, I have decided to change the
way I prepare the "post-game" summaries, beginning with this one. From now
on I shall write up a shorter statement of some of the "high points" of the meeting
--more of a "compendium of insights gleaned by the moderator” than an attempt at
an objective, blow-by-blow account of what happened. Contrary to the practise
adopted in my previous summaries, I shall not mention any specific names.
Moreover, I shall feel free to weave into the "summary" my own
further/subsequent thoughts on the subject.
I introduced the 4 February meeting on the topic: "Does it make sense to talk
about nothing?" by explaining in some detail what I believed the topic was *not*
about. There were at least two problems with my approach. The first was that
my introduction was too complex and long-winded. My verbiage droned on
for at least five minutes longer than the 15-minute limit specified in the
"Guidelines for Introducers" which I normally give to others who introduce at
the Kowloon Branch. I suppose I rationalized this at the time by telling myself
how difficult it is to understand and convey the special Heideggerian notion of
"nothing" I was trying to explain, whereby "nothing" serves as the necessary,
though self-contradictory, starting-point for all metaphysics. The second and
more genuine problem was that, once my introduction was finally over, it seemed
as if there was--quite literally--"nothing" left to talk about!
Throughout most of the meeting, I felt like my idea to discuss this topic was a
flop. The fifteen of us attending the meeting seemed to be wandering aimlessly
trying to figure out what, if anything, we were supposed to be talking about. I
kept insisting that there are very good reasons to talk about this topic, even
if we cannot fully grasp what they are. One person correctly pointed out that
the main question is just a species of a broader question: Does it make sense
to talk about things that are self-contradictory? Opinions seemed to be split
on this, though my view is that it can make sense, if we have good reasons to
do so.
Another interesting insight that came up is that talking about "everything"
shares many (if not all) of the same characteristics as talking about
"nothing". Indeed, they rise and fall together. Interestingly, concepts like
"the universe" seem far easier to accept than the strange concept of "nothing";
yet we have no more direct objective experience of the latter than we do of the
former.
About the time we normally would have divided into small groups, it was decided
that this would be pointless on this occasion, because the attendees felt like
they simply had "nothing" to talk about! Faced with the prospects of a meeting
ending after less than an hour, I decided to do something I had not originaly
intended to do. I gave more details on what *Heidegger's* reasons were for
believing there are good reasons to talk about nothing. I didn't intend to do
that because all too often the affect of giving "the answer" is to stifle new
ideas, which I did not want to do. But on this occasion it seemed there was
little choice.
Heidegger's view, in a nutshell, is that it makes sense to talk about "nothing"
because this word refers to the existential source of human anxiety, and the
latter is at the very root of what it means to be human. Situations of anxiety
are those that put us in touch with our nature and face us with the issues that
determine whether or not we will live an "authentic" life. He readily admitted
that such talk is self-contradictory, so we mustn't try too hard to make
logical sense out of it. It is the experience that counts in this case, and the
experience that forms the true foundation for metaphysics, not some rational
theory.
(This, by the way, is one of the few instances I know of in which a
professional philosopher uses the term "metaphysics" in a way that seems to
bridge the two very different meanings it typically has: as a branch of
theoretical philosophy on the one hand, studied for instance in university
courses in a way that is rarely very exciting or meaningful to the student, and
as a deep form of quasi-religious experience, typically defended by "new agers"
as the golden road to a meaningful life.)
After I "let the cat out of the bag", so to speak, our discussion continued,
though it was never as active as our discussions typically are. People still
seemed to be having to work very hard to think of something to talk about. For
awhile we talked about whether silence is a good enough way to engender this
metaphysical experience. But some of us, at least, felt that there is at least
*sometimes* a need to talk about it as well. The myth of the cyclops being
injured by "nobody" was also brought in as an indirect/symbolic expression of
the same general idea as Heidegger's. For some time we also discussed
Heidegger's Nazism. But this was definitely "something", so we eventually put
that to one side as well. Finally, we discussed whether the existence of human
beings is really necessary for this "nothing" to have any significance.
For me one of the most memorable points of the evening came very near the end,
when someone sitting near me leaned over and asked me: "Steve, did you get
anything out of tonight's meeting?" Without thinking, I spontaneously answered
"no". The inquirer seemed to be quite relieved by this response, since she was
obviously finding it difficult to see any point in the whole thing. However,
upon further reflection after the meeting it occurred to me that, while our
sense of intense frustration during the discussion may have made the experience
a highly unusual one, we may nevertheless have accomplished something quite
profound. For, if we are to believe Heidegger, the purpose of talking about
nothing is precisely to bring us face to face with our own inner anxiety, and
thereby to reveal our own humanness to ourselves. From this point of view, on
second thought, I judge the meeting to be a success.